June still hadn’t gotten up the courage to tell Angie about his current roommate situation. Not to mention, he enjoyed spending time with Aaron more and more each day.
“I’ve been hiking a lot,” he lied. “Doing a lot of art too.” Double lie.
Angie took another drink. “You hear from your parents?”
“Not a word,” he smirked, “I’m pretty sure I’ve just been disowned at this point.”
“That’s not the worst thing in the world,” she mused. “You could have ended up a slave to your parent’s business instead.”
Despite Angie’s obvious distaste for working her summer away at the ice cream shop, she looked at the back of the pink building fondly. It was like the Central Park of all their memories together. Where it once stood bright and freshly painted, it now stood faded and loved. The upholstery on the chairs inside stained from years of grubby hands. The smell of fresh sugar cones to make a scuffed knee okay again. The 80’s pinball machine in the far corner still getting good use from time to time.
June considered the building kindly, silently raising his cup too many more years under Angie’s guidance. Half the time she acted like she wanted bigger and better things for herself than to run a shop way up here in these mountains, but June could see otherwise. Angie was as deeply rooted in these woods as the giant sequoia trees.
June wanted to tell her the business would be hers before she knew it, but the words didn't feel right on his tongue. For now, he settled for a shrug and another drink. His face felt warm, heated from being out all day both in the sun and in the crowded shop helping Angie. He felt his nerves unwind with each sip. The cool sorbet lasted seconds on his tongue before the vodka lifted a tingle to his skin.
Somewhere around the other side of the building, facing the dusty parking lot, a voice called for them. Angie straightened up instantly, blinking in surprise. Her name was called again. Twice. She made a move only to place her half-finished cup behind the wall they sat on.
“Who is—”
“Charlie,” she said a second before the gangly teenage boy with dark curls appeared around the corner. He took in June’s presence before making a move toward them.
June had only seen Charlie once before when he surprised Angie over a week ago. And as far as first impressions went, he seemed to be just another geeky teen trying to scrape together money for his first car. He was slightly younger than Angie, with mild acne, dark hazel eyes, and bandages on his elbows from where he had probably fallen attempting to skateboard. He wore a baggy striped shirt and heavy jeans that were definitely some 90’s hand-me-downs from an older sibling.
“H-Hi,” Charlie began, eyeing June suspiciously.
Angie crossed her legs and shook out her thick hair before speaking. “Wassup, Curls?” There was something notable about the way she greeted him—playfully. June would have to harass her about it later.
“I was, uh…” Charlie rubbed the back of his neck and shifted from one foot to another. “Just coming to check and see how busy it was… But then I remembered it was movie night and I… I guess there was no reason to think I might have to work, huh?”
Angie snorted, rolled her eyes, and finally reached back behind the short wall they sat on to retrieve her cup. She snatched the bottle of vodka as well and cradled it in her lap innocently. “You’re a riot, Curls,” she began, “you know that my mom doesn’t expect you to show up to work after seven if she hasn’t called you in.”
“Ah hah… Yeah… Right. I guess I forgot.”
June, feeling misplaced in the moment between them, decided to clear his throat. They could fumble around work schedules later. He reached up and offered his knuckles to the gangly boy (not a friendly gesture, more of a challenge). “We haven’t met. I’m June Crow.”
Charlie hesitated a little before bumping fists with him. “I’m Charlie…you’re not from around here, right?”
“He is,” Angie said immediately. “At least, notoriously every summer.”
June chugged the last of his drink and ignored the vodka burn in his throat.
“I know this area like the back of my hand. And I know that you aren’t from around here.”
Charlie turned slightly pink at the assumption. Had his lack of style and grace not given him away, his lack of confidence would have.
“I’m from Bakersfield. My father just moved out here this year, and he asked me to spend the summer with him.”
“And he got a job because his father wanted to get him out of the house and stop him from feeling sorry for himself,” Angie finished with a snicker. She pulled the bottle of vodka from her lap and held it out toward the boy. An invitation. “Have a seat.”
Charlie hesitated again, looking around for other people who might see them. He looked well aware of the fact that this end of the lake was deserted tonight, and even Angie’s mom had taken off to do some much-needed shopping down the mountain. Angie wagged the bottle at him again, waiting.
“Alright,” he said, taking it gingerly and proceeding to sit in front of them in the grass. He crossed his legs, uncapped the vodka and sniffed at the top.
June couldn’t help but laugh.
“Your alcohol virginity is showing.”
Charlie shot him a pouty-glare and took a sharp, fast swig at the clear liquid. A tremor of distaste ran through his whole body as he swallowed.
“Guhh...”
“You don’t get out much, huh?” Angie shifted, unlocked her crossed legs, and lowered herself down into the grass, so she was on eye-level with the younger teen. “Why is that?”
June held a hand out for the bottle before Charlie could “accidentally” spill the rest of it, and followed his best friend into the grass. The three of them sat facing each other.
June wondered what Aaron might look like sitting there instead of Charlie. Would he look nervous sitting with a new face? Probably not. Aaron didn't seem shy, despite his quiet nature. He might—hopefully, would be—better at drinking than this other boy as well. June pictured his nose scrunching up in the same distaste as Charlie’s and decided it wouldn’t look as pathetic on him.
Maybe he was just biased. Or something.
“I don’t have any friends here,” Charlie was saying. He folded his hands in his lap. “I didn’t exactly choose to come here either, but it is what it is. My father doesn’t make much of an effort to go do things.” There was a hint of bitterness in his voice.
“Must be hard.” June tilted his head back toward the slowly darkening sky. It had to be at least eight o’clock by now. He’d been gone from the cabin all day. “Having a parent that doesn’t care what you do and wants you out of his house? Tragic.”
Charlie was glaring again. June shot him a wicked grin.
“Don’t feel bad, Curls.” Angie laughed. “June is just bitter because his family cares too much.”
“It’s very distracting from my delinquent ways,” June agreed haughtily. He passed the bottle back to the other boy. “I’m just saying. You’re upset that you have a free-range parent, here, in one of the most amazing places in the whole world.”
“Excuse me?”
“Oh, don’t get him started.” Angie shoved June lightly. “He acts like this mountain is God’s gift to Earth.”
Charlie snorted, muttered under his breath. “It’s more like a big mud puddle if you ask me.”
“Nobody asked you.” June sniffed.
“Be nice!” she insisted at him. “You’re so bad at making friends, I swear.”
June shrugged, looking away. He’d managed to make Aaron his friend plenty quickly. That had to count for something. Just because he didn't want to make friends with the nerd transplant from Bakersfield didn't mean he was bad at it.
Although…in their history of friendships, neither he nor Angie exactly had a good track record. They’d spent every summer together, but with the exception of June’s sisters and one old friend from Angie’s school, they’d never exactly extended a hand to anyone.
<
br /> June looked between Charlie and Angie and found himself staring at invisible strings. Thin as spider webs floating between the two of them, not quite pulling them closer but connecting them in a way June had never seen before. He wanted to roll his eyes. Or puke. Or both. Angie must have a thing for Charlie if she was willing to invite him into their circle. Charlie definitely had a thing for Angie judging by the way he’d shown up for no apparent reason on a quiet night (ironic that it was movie night too. June saw right through him).
June pictured himself taking a stick and drawing a circle around him and Angie and locking Charlie outside of it. Let him be bitter about his wasted summer on the mountain and his daddy issues. It was June’s last summer here, and he didn't like the idea of sharing it with anyone else.
His brain flickered back to Aaron.
What a hypocrite he was. Leaving Aaron home alone all day long to spend time with Angie, knowing well enough he was only being selfish. Guilt tickled his chest. The vodka must have gotten to him by now. He couldn’t figure out if he were keeping Angie a secret from Aaron, or keeping Aaron a secret from Angie. And either way, he couldn't figure out why. Especially, not with Charlie sitting here.
The other two teens had gone off topic and were discussing work-related things now. That only made June mad at himself and mad at the situation. He wasn't stupid enough not to realize feeling excluded was irrational, but he sure was stubborn enough to pretend it didn't exist.
“M’gonna go.”
Angie stopped mid-breath, obviously caught off guard. “What? But June, I thought—”
“I should start walking before it gets too dark.” He tried to sound aloof and pointed toward the setting sun. It was a bullshit excuse considering he’d stayed out after dark hundreds of times before, but it would have to work for now.
“Well…why don’t we go eat something and then I can at least drive you home.”
“Nah.” He waved her off. “It’s all good. I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
Charlie and Angie exchanged confused looks, one significantly more honest than the other.
“I’ll…see you tomorrow then,” Angie called after him. She knew better than to push her best friend when it came to things like this. “Be careful!”
Eventually, Aaron’s empty stomach stirred him from his boredom. June had not come back despite the setting sun, and Aaron thought it was pretty pathetic to be waiting around this impatiently. He was an adult (although he didn't feel like it most of the time) and he was more than capable of feeding himself. June being home wasn't necessary.
It had been a while since he’d had take-out anyway.
Aaron took his time getting together his wallet and keys, fixing his honey-colored hair, and finding the cell phone he’d thrown behind the shitty guest bed days ago. It was out of battery, but he decided to take this opportunity to get some cell-service. He had a car charger, and the larger town down the mountain would be much more reliable to make a phone call.
It was a forty-some minute drive despite no one being on the roads, yet Aaron watched the setting sun with a level of anxiety he should be used to by now. Everything about driving at night made him uncomfortable, but the mountains were especially frightening. The shadows, cast long and harsh across the road, shimmered and swayed in the breeze. Occasionally, a raccoon or opossum would stray into the road, and their eyes would flash like lightning in the path of his headlights. He played Nirvana because it reminded him of his cousin. A familiar sound in a forest of whispers. It calmed him.
The winding road eventually gave away to a few rolling hills and finally the open valley where the town sat. It was complete with streetlamps and windows throwing light into the black sky. The moon was much more visible here as well. Safe.
Aaron wasn’t much for talking about it, but he was explicitly afraid of the dark. Especially in unfamiliar places. Especially when alone.
Lucky for him, the town seemed lively. He rolled through an In-N-Out drive-thru and parked underneath a large stadium-style streetlamp to stuff his face. It was louder around here. There was a group of high schoolers playing hackysack and throwing fries at each other nearby. Aaron watched from behind the safety of his tinted windows and briefly wondered how old they were. Wondered if they too had silly fears like the dark. He felt detached for a moment. Lost.
The sound of messages coming through on his phone caught him off guard. He’d forgotten he’d plugged it in to charge on the drive down, much less that he had turned it on. And now there must be sufficient service. Mouthful of fries, he stared at the little screen, feeling his heart sink. Four missed calls… Five missed calls… Eight missed calls. Three voicemails. Seventeen text messages.
Almost all of them were from his cousin, Arco.
Aaron was relieved in one way but completely mortified in another. The first time he’d checked his phone, no one had tried to reach him at all. He’d been upset enough about it to not bother with his phone much afterward. Perhaps that had been a poor, immature decision on his part, but he had also been busy with June’s daily shenanigans…
He chewed his bottom lip nervously, didn't bother to listen to the voicemails or read the texts, and just dialed Arco’s number.
It rang all of once before a familiar voice picked up. “Aaron!”
“H-Hey—”
“Aaron, what the fuck!” Arco demanded, voice angry and low like he was trying to be quiet. Aaron could picture his icy blue eyes and his mouth twisted in disapproval. Arco wasn’t much of a father-figure to him, but he had his moments. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for almost a week!”
“I-I’m sorry!” Aaron began.
“I almost called the police!”
“Arco, I—”
“My mom is worried! Your mom is worried!”
Aaron waited for him to finish. Closed his eyes and accepted the lecture like a five-year-old caught stealing candy. His stomach churned by the end of it. He hated when people—especially Arco—were upset with him.
“Fuck, Man. Where even are you?”
Aaron peered out the window at the group of high schoolers. They had settled down and now sat at the outside tables laughing. He wished he was sitting with friends enjoying the night rather than explaining himself to his angry cousin.
“I’m sitting in my car in an In-N-Out parking lot.”
Arco scoffed.
“Look, I told you already.” Aaron pressed his temple to the window, afraid of causing more waves. “I’m at my parents’ cabin.”
“Still?”
“Yes, still.” He squashed the small voice in the back of his head telling him to keep June a secret. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone why an eighteen-year-old would want to hole up in a dusty cabin with no cell service by himself. Aaron wasn’t stupid; trying to make a story convincing wasn’t happening and lying to Arco was a lost cause as well. Not to mention, after the panic he had caused by not answering his phone…maybe the guy deserved some of the truth.
“Why?” Arco demanded. “Why won’t you go back to Portland?”
“It’s not that I won’t go back, Arco,” Aaron fiddled with the volume on his stereo until it was almost silent, “I just… I… Look, you promise not to tell?”
Arco paused. Voice skeptical. “... Maybe?”
Aaron sighed. “When I got to the cabin, I met someone and…I don’t know. I’m having fun. We’ve been hanging out.” He paused, wondering again where June had run off to today. Wondering why it bothered him so much. “But you can’t tell anyone, okay?”
Arco’s whole demeanor changed then. The anger and frustration in his voice replaced with thick curiosity. Maybe even a little amusement. “You met someone, eh?”
“Yeah.” Heat spread from Aaron’s neck up to his cheeks. He couldn’t help it when Arco teased him like that. Knowing what he’d implied. “But you can calm down. It’s a dude.”
“Oh.”
Aaron could picture Arco’s face as he went through the emotions of unders
tanding his situation. The curl of his lip and the tilt of his head as he looked on thoughtfully. “Then why are you so concerned with people finding out?”
Aaron hesitated. He could skip the part about meeting June inside the cabin, but at this point, Arco would probably be able to tell he was lying. He cleared his throat.
“He’s staying at the cabin.”
“With you?”
“Kind of? I showed up in the middle of the night, and he was already there. His family rented the cabin from my mom every summer, but I guess this year he came alone.”
“Isn’t your mom supposed to make money renting it out to people though?”
“Yes. Which is exactly why I don’t want you to tell anyone. Because if my mom gets wind of it, she’s going to throw a fit that he’s there when he’s not supposed to be.”
Arco was silent for a long moment. “He’s not like…squatting there is he?”
Aaron shook his head, picking crumbs off his lap and dropping them into the cardboard box in the passenger seat. “No. No, I don’t think so…but I don’t really know why he came alone either. He only talks about being here for the summer, though.”
“The whole summer?”
“I…think so?” He thumbed at his steering wheel, trying to remember if June had ever mentioned any length of time. He only remembered him saying this was his last summer here.
“Are you going to be gone the whole summer then?” The unhappiness trickled back into Arco’s tone ever so slightly. “You’re really far away from home…”
Aaron sighed. “You know, Arco, you’re also going to be gone for the whole summer. And you’re far away from home too.”
His cousin was part of an exclusive internship in Monterey right now, so he didn't have much room to talk. A small part of Aaron wanted to argue again. Wanted to point out that Arco’s absence was a contributing factor to him leaving Portland to begin with.
He shook the negative feelings away as best he could and reminded himself Arco was doing what he loved and always dreamed of. Leaving for the internship wasn’t personal.
“Let’s just…” Arco was obviously trying not to start another argument. “Let’s just agree to keep in touch with each other, okay? No matter how long you decide to stay at the cabin.”
The Maple Effect Page 7
