A Summer of Chances

by Roxanne Tully

  “I don’t think I really know where that is, Sarah,” I said, biting the inside of my lip.

  “I think you do.”

  I shrugged. “Thanks.” I forced a smile for her, knowing she meant well with her unintelligible advice. “What about you? Did you ever find what you were looking for? Where you belong?”

  “I did. This camp is my life, Amy.” She looked out into the half-risen pink sun, her words drifting. “I don’t know where I’d be without it.”

  I glanced at her, frowning at her words. She seemed to have gone to a distant place in her head. Then my expression turned thoughtful when I saw the way she was looking out at the sunrise. It was with the same hopeful trust that the new day would come through for her in some way.

  I walked back thinking about what Sarah had said. Why would she think that I knew what I wanted? Did she think I belonged here? What did I want? I closed my eyes, and the first vision that came to my head was junior year of high school. I had just been called up to my art teacher’s desk.

  Mrs. Venner was a strict teacher, even for an art class. She had that critical expression on her face before she would even look at a piece. And her grading made our faces look a lot like hers. Her grades rarely went over 92 percent, un-less our pieces were exceptionally detailed. Once, there was a 99.9 percent for a kid who designed an entire mansion-sized bathroom out of carved soap.

  It was the best thing ever created—in her classroom. She never gave out 100s, since in her eyes, no one’s work was ever 100 percent, not even her own.

  That was until she gave her first 100 percent grade ever—on my three-dimensional cartoon painting. I thought I was seeing things. But there it was, all three digits on the back of my art project. I looked up at her, and she smiled at me—another first for Mrs. Venner.

  She told me out of all the years she’d been assigning this project, she’d never seen characters and animals look as though they were about to come to life. The details were beyond any student’s capabilities, she had told me. I’d even detailed things she wouldn’t have considered. She said she stared at my piece for forty-seven minutes, determined to find something to suggest improvement about, but was simply blown away each time.

  Something about Sarah telling me she thought I knew where I belonged triggered that memory. I slowed in my steps back from the beach, stopping to turn to stare at the bright-blue sky. A slow, genuine smile formed on my face for the first time in days.

  I knew what I wanted. I had the same feeling the last time I’d thought about Mrs. Venner’s words. I wanted to be an artist. Not the kind who paints all day and then tries to display her Picassos in second-rate galleries. But a cartoonist. My characters weren’t something I ever took for granted. They were alive to me. I never drew anything that didn’t tell a story just by looking at it.

  I did have a dream I was chasing. And I was full-blown ready to do it.

  Walking back into my apartment, I lightly tossed my sandals off, careful not to wake Rachel, and made myself a fresh cup of coffee. It was Saturday, after all. I didn’t have to work. I could spend all day on this. I pulled out the folding chair by the kitchen and popped open my laptop. I started my research on a few schools in New York; some had amazing art programs with a variety of focuses. I remembered many from when I had considered applying before I graduated high school, but this time I had nothing and no one stopping me. As far as I was concerned, I was already halfway there.

  I couldn’t tell if it was the smell of the morning air or the coffee, but the thought of a fresh start jolted me into action.

  Throughout the rest of the day, I’d taken breaks to refuel, get some air, consult with Rachel on details, and get her input. But mostly I spent the day glued to my computer and putting together application materials for submission. Rachel seemed more excited than I was, offering to do research on one school while I was applying to another. I appreciated her enthusiasm in helping me multitask, but just having her support meant a lot.

  “I don’t think you need to look any further. There are really only two I’m interested in,” I told her.

  Late Saturday night I called my dad to check in and make sure he’d landed safely. I did take the opportunity to tell him about my plans. He was more than thrilled that I had one and offered to help in any way he could, and not only financially.

  “Actually, there is something you can do for me.” I said, taking his offer. “Can you go to my room and pull out the box from under my bed?”

  CHAPTER 24

  What are you going to do with your car?” Rachel asked Sunday morning at breakfast. I wasn’t in the mood for going out so Rachel offered to stay in and fry up some eggs. “You’re not going to need it in the city.”

  “Probably donate it. I’ll make more back on the tax write-off than if I sold it.” But at that point, it had all been hypothetical, since my applications to the two schools were less than one day in process and I was already past deadline on one of them.

  “That’s too bad. I may have been willing to take it off your hands.”

  “Really? I thought you didn’t need one where you are.”

  “No, but I would probably need it to come see Peter throughout the year,” Rachel said playfully.

  I was happy for her, but the thought immediately made my stomach drop. I swallowed. “Have you guys made any plans for after the summer?”

  “Not really, but he asked me to meet him at Emmons café today.”

  I took another sip of my coffee and lifted my eyebrows. “Here’s your chance.”

  “No.” She protested immediately. “I’m not just going to go running every time he calls. Besides, I’m not leaving you today.”

  “What? I don’t need a babysitter,” I insisted. “You should go and spend time with Peter before you guys are miles away from each other.”

  She stared at me, as if she needed another push.

  “Go.”

  “Promise me you’re not going to stay in and be miserable all day.” She started backing toward the door.

  “I’m not going to be miserable. I’m going to have a lovely time pulling up everything I need to submit with my application.”

  “Promise me you’ll go out.”

  I sighed. “I promise.”

  “Great.” She smiled. Then her expression turned definite. “Pick me up a key chain at Jake’s Souvenir Shop.”

  “What, you want proof?”

  “Damn right.” She stomped. Then her face fell and she shrugged. “Besides, if Peter turns me down, I’ll need something to remember this place by.”

  “What if I don’t head that way?”

  “There are six souvenir shops in town. If you can’t reach one, you haven’t gone far enough.” She grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

  “Fine,” I yelled as she shut the door behind her.”

  I sipped my coffee until the temperature was undrinkable and cleared the table. I put on my violet, solid, two-piece bathing suit and threw a pair of light-blue denim shorts on with a vintage floral blouse. I tossed my cell phone, wallet, and sunscreen in a soft canvas shoulder bag, slipped on my sunglasses, and walked out.

  The sun was beaming and felt warm on my bare legs and arms. I pulled off my hair tie, letting my hair fall loosely around my shoulders.

  Moments later, I was walking past the wooden fence along the boardwalk and down the ramp that slowly descended into the warm, lumpy sand. Slipping off my flip-flops, I eased my toes onto the hot sand. The grains covered my toes with every step. I walked along the wet, even shore for a few minutes before trying to remember where Jake’s Souvenir Shop was.

  I walked past the rocks, where I sat to watch the sunrise, scanned the storefronts along the boardwalk, and even reached the boats and yachts lined up by Emmons, where I’d run into Chris during one of my classes. Still no sign of this shop. I shook my head at Rachel’s comment that if I hadn’t reached one souvenir shop, then I hadn’t walked far enough.

  After the boats, I was approa
ching the pier, where Rick had held a water sports session with the boys. An image of eight boys jumping off the pier and catching a green ball flowed into my mind and then disappeared. When the vision cleared, the only thing left sitting on the very edge of the planked walkway was a young girl. It was hard to tell her height and age, but her profile suggested she was early teens. I did a quick run-through in my head of the older campers to see if she resembled anyone. She wasn’t one of Bay’s Summer Camp girls, yet she looked somewhat familiar, and I was oddly drawn to her.

  I walked up behind her and dropped my bag behind me. She glanced up at me and moved to her left, gripping the wooden pillar. Her feet barely touched the water, but as I looked closer, I saw she was hardly letting her feet sink below the surface.

  “Nice day to soak your feet,” I said, sitting down and sinking my own into the cool ocean water.

  She kept her eyes on her feet. “This is as far as I get.”

  “Well, this is as far as the pier gets.” I knew there was more to what she was saying, but responding with matter-of-fact statements is almost always better than prying.

  “No. I mean, I don’t go in the ocean.”

  “You know how to swim?” I asked, looking at the boats ahead.

  “Oh, I can swim. Really well, actually. My brother taught me when I was five. I just prefer to…see what’s floating around me.”

  “It’s mostly seaweed,” I reassured, splashing my feet a little.

  “Not always…” Her voice trailed off.

  “That’s really cool you learned to swim at a young age. You know, I didn’t learn until I was, like, thirteen. This boy I liked threw me in the pool once and then laughed at me for doing the doggie paddle.”

  She made a disgusted face and finally looked at me. “Ugh, what a jerk. So what did you do?”

  “What any grown-up, mature young woman would do. I pulled myself onto the ledge, and when he was too busy laughing to notice, I grabbed his ankle and yanked him in.”

  She laughed.

  I laughed along. “But the next day, I told my dad I was ready to learn to swim.”

  At that moment, another Jet Ski whooshed by us and I noticed the girl watching the wave runner closely. “You ever ride one of those?” she asked me casually.

  “Yeah. At a beach back home. Why, you interested in riding?” I asked mischievously.

  “I think so.”

  I smiled. “No time like the present.”

  Her face lit up with excitement. “Really? Could we go now?”

  I hadn’t meant that exact present. “Oh, with me? Oh, I don’t know. Where are your parents?”

  “Oh, my brother won’t mind.”

  “What won’t your brother mind?” A male voice came from behind us and chills went up my spine at the sound of his voice.

  Rick.

  Still sitting, I turned my head up and to the side to look at him. He looked down at me with no sign of emotion. It was just an empty gaze. I on the other hand, was finding it really hard not to stare at his bare chest. Since he wore nothing but his swim shorts, it was incredibly hard to avoid.

  “Hi,” he said flatly.

  “You must be Jill,” I said, leaning into her and ignoring Rick’s pitiful greeting. “I’m Amy.”

  “My brother talks about me?” she asked quickly. Then cut herself off. “Amy is going to Jet Ski with me.”

  “Is she?” He returned her enthusiasm. He stretched out his arms, helping his sister up, and wrapped them around her shoulders from behind her. The top of her head didn’t reach past his chest. I’d seen him with kids before, but this was a new kind of warmth—and it nearly made me melt on the spot.

  I stood. “I didn’t really say that.” Although thinking back at my words, I could see how she would have misunderstood it.

  “This one was stung by a jellyfish when she was nine and refused to set foot in the ocean since. Especially her left one.” He shook his sister lightly. But he didn’t sound like he was talking to me.

  I nodded. “I had a feeling it had something to do with a sea creature.” I nudged her on the arm lightly and bent down to pick up my bag. I stepped around them to make my way back to the beach, fearing that dawdling would only make me look weak—that, and increase the chance of slipping my eyes to his body.

  “You won’t take me today?” The disappointment in her voice was eating away at me.

  Why wasn’t he saying anything to object? I opened my mouth, still trying to figure out what I was going to say. “Uhh…if it’s okay with your brother.

  “It’s okay with me. Although I’ve never seen you on a Jet Ski before. Can I trust you?”

  “How hard could be?” I winked at him. “I know what I’m doing.” As long as she didn’t freak out and jump off, we’d be fine.

  “Jill, you sure you’re ready for that? I mean we could just go for a swim closer to shore.”

  “That’s actually being in the water, Rick. At least on those things, I’ll be above it.” She pointed to the lineup of Jet Skis along the side of the pier.

  “Good point,” Rick surrendered.

  Jill and I boarded the cruiser. I hopped on first, and Jill sat behind me.

  “Where are the seat belts?” she asked as I put the key into the engine.

  “There aren’t any. Hold on tight.” As soon as I felt her grip tighten, I pressed my foot against the pedal and took off. From the corner of my eye, I saw Rick wave at us. Then he walked backward a few steps to sit on the beach.

  I slowed us down to take a breath and make sure Jill was okay. She was breathing heavily, but I still felt the excitement in her. I looked for Rick on the beach. I didn’t see him, though. I looked in the same spot where I thought he’d settled. Seeing more clearly now, I noticed he was still sitting in the same spot. I hadn’t spotted him right away because I was looking for a guy sitting alone. Rick wasn’t alone now. A tall, thin redhead was sitting next to him.

  Haley.

  I felt my heart sink and land somewhere in the pit of my stomach. My knees went numb, and I feared I couldn’t operate the machine much longer. I had to get back before I tipped us over.

  No.

  I took a deep breath and forced myself to take back control of what was happening to me. I turned to Jill. “You ready for another round?”

  She nodded once, and I swooped her around once more through white-water splashes, this time with a little extra force. I glanced back every few seconds to make sure she was okay. By the looks of it, she enjoyed every jump, crash, and swerve. Finally, I slowed the Jet Ski to a float and motioned Jill to hop off. She ran off immediately to her brother.

  “Rick! Rick! Did you see us out there?” she cried.

  “Jillie, I was watching you the whole time,” he cheered, matching her excitement.

  Rick was looking at me with kinder, grateful green eyes. I caught a glimpse of a smile playing on his face as I loosened the knots in my hair with my fingers.

  “Hi, Amy,” Haley said with a sweet smile that I saw right through. She looked a hell of a lot better than I did at that moment. She wore a white-knit bikini top and a sheer pink skirt. Her hair was redder than ever in the sun, and compared to the wet mop I was displaying on my head, she looked ready for a photo shoot.

  “It was great meeting you, Jill. That was really fun.” I smiled at Rick and Haley, although most would confuse it with squinting from the sun. “See you guys.” I picked up my bag and made my second attempt to leave.

  “Amy,” Jill called and ran up behind me.

  I turned and nearly fell over when Jill embraced me in one of the biggest hugs I’d gotten in months.

  “Thank you,” she whispered over my shoulder.

  “Thank you, Jill. I really needed that,” I whispered back.

  With that, I picked up speed and took off in the direction of Bays House.

  CHAPTER 25

  I felt the tears burning in me but refused to let a single drop fall. When had I become this weak, pathetic, lovesick pers
on? Where was the strong, independent, young woman who never let anyone bring her down? I learned very early that when life takes something away from you, you move on and never look back. Or as Rachel would now say…

  Damnit. Rachel.

  The keychain. I stopped in my tracks and spun around on the boardwalk to head back to Jake’s Souvenir Shop. I found it by a crowded section of the beach, so with any luck, I’d get lost in the crowd if I ended up anywhere near Rick and Haley again. Still, I reached into my deep bag for my sunglasses in case those tears did decide to fall any second.

  I ran into the shop and went directly for the key-chain display. I scanned and spun the wheel, looking for anything that resembled Rachel and her time here. The one that got my attention was a single silver key ring holding two identical chained links with rubber white-and-red lifesavers on each one.

  Perfect. I smiled to myself.

  I paid for it at the checkout and turned to leave. That was when I saw them again, right over the boardwalk: Rick and Haley. He looked distracted, glancing back and forth between Jill, who was now jumping the waves, and then to his feet. Haley seemed to be following Rick, babbling away and trying to get his attention. I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that she was just irritating him and that he had no real feelings for her. Until I saw what happened next. He spun around and kissed her. It was aggressive and fast. And it made me sick to my stomach. Seeing them together at the beach had been bad enough—shocking, if anything. But seeing him kissing and touching another girl was beyond anything I’d ever felt.

  As I ran home from the beach, I opened the door to my apartment and shut it behind me, locking it. Not that Rachel didn’t have a key, but I needed to disappear from the rest of the world, to hide out under my covers until the pain went away. Just as I pulled the covers off my bed to crawl under them, I stopped myself.

  I hadn’t come here to get my heart broken. I followed a sign to get out of town for the summer, maybe even for good. I went on a search to find a new beginning, not find someone to break my heart.

  Thursday morning an e-mail and text message went out to the entire staff of the summer camp to meet at the gymnasium before the first sessions started. The CITs were assigned to meet the campers as they got off the buses and keep them in the cafeteria for breakfast until our meeting was over.