It's Not Summer without You (14 page)

But it was all make-believe. I knew that. There was no mother, no brother, no Susannah here.

Even though I had gone to bed early the night before, I slept late. It was already almost eleven. I had slept for twelve hours. I hadn’t slept that well in weeks.

I got out of bed and went to look out my window. Looking out my bedroom window at the summer house always made me feel better. I wished every window looked out at an ocean, nothing but miles and miles of sand and sea. Down the beach, Jeremiah and Conrad were bobbing on surfboards in black wetsuits. It was such a familiar sight. And just like that, I was hopeful. Maybe Jeremiah was right. Maybe Conrad would come back with us after all.

And then I would go back home, away from him and from everything he reminded me of. I would lay out at the neighborhood pool and I would hang by the snack bar with Taylor, and pretty soon the summer would go by. I would forget how it used to be.

This time really was the last time.

Before I did anything else, I called Taylor. I explained how we were all in Cousins, how we just needed to convince Conrad to go back to school and finish out summer session.

The first thing she said was, “Belly, what do you think you’re doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. This whole situation is retarded. You should be at home where you belong.”

I sighed. No matter how many times I asked her not to say “retarded,” she still did. She even had a little cousin with Down Syndrome. I think she did it on purpose because she knew it bothered me.

“What do you care if Conrad is a college dropout?” she said. “Let him be a loser if he wants.”

Even though I knew no one could hear me, I lowered my voice. “He’s going through a lot right now. He needs us.”

“He needs his brother. Who, by the way, is hotter than him, hello! Conrad doesn’t need you. He cheated on you, remember?”

I was whispering now. “He didn’t cheat on me and you know it. We were already broken up. It’s not like we were ever even a real couple in the first place.” The last part was hard to say.

“Oh, right—he didn’t cheat on you, he dumped you right after the prom. What an
amazing
guy. Gaylord.”

I ignored her. “Will you please still cover for me if my mom calls?”

She sniffed. “Duh. I happen to be a loyal friend.”

“Thank you. Oh, and thank you
so much
for taking all my clothes.”

“You’re welcome,” she said all smug. “And Belly?”

“Yes?”

“Don’t lose sight of the mission at hand.”

“Well, Jeremiah’s been working on him—”

“Not that, dummy. I’m talking about
the mission
. You have to get Conrad to want you back, and then you have to rebuff him. Brutally.”

I was glad we were on the phone so she couldn’t see me roll my eyes. But the thing was, she had a point. Taylor never got hurt because she was the one who was in charge. She called the shots. Boys wanted her, not the other way around. She was always quoting that line from
Pretty Woman
, the one about being a hooker. “I say who, I say when, I say who.”

It wasn’t that the idea didn’t appeal to me. It was just that it would never work. Getting Conrad to notice me the first time around, however briefly, had been nearly impossible. It wouldn’t work a second time.

After Taylor and I hung up, I called my mother. I told her that I was staying at Taylor’s house again that night, that she was still too upset for me to leave. My mother agreed. “You’re a good friend,” she said. There was relief in her voice when she asked me to tell Taylor’s parents hello.

She didn’t even question the lie. I could hear it over the phone: All she wanted was to be left alone with her grief.

After, I took a shower and put on the clothes Taylor picked for me. A white camisole with flowers embroidered across the top and her famous cutoffs.

I went downstairs with my hair still wet, tugging on my shorts. The boys were back inside, sitting at the kitchen table and eating dirt bombs, the big sugary cinnamon muffins that Susannah used to get up early to buy.

“Look what I got,” Jeremiah said. He pushed the white paper bag toward me.

I grabbed the bag and stuffed half a dirt bomb inside my mouth. It was still warm. “Yum,” I said, my mouth full. “So . . . what’s up?”

Jeremiah looked at Conrad hopefully. “Con?”

“You guys should head out soon, if you want to miss the Fourth of July traffic,” Conrad said, and it killed me to see the look on Jeremiah’s face.

“We’re not leaving without you,” Jeremiah told him.

Conrad exhaled. “Look, Jere, I appreciate you coming here. But as you can see, I’m fine. I’ve got everything under control.”

“Like hell you do. Con, if you’re not back on Monday for your exams, you’re out. The only reason you’re even taking summer school is those incompletes from last semester. If you don’t go back, then what?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll figure things out.”

“You keep saying that, but dude, you haven’t figured out shit. All you’ve done so far is run away.”

The way Conrad glared at him, I knew that Jeremiah had said the right thing. Conrad’s old value system was still there, buried underneath the anger. The old Conrad would never give up.

It was my turn to say something. I took a breath and said, “So, how are you going to become a doctor without a college degree, Conrad?”

He did a double take, and then he stared at me. I stared right back. Yeah, I said it. I would say whatever I had to, even if it hurt him.

It was something I’d learned from watching Conrad in pretty much every game we’d ever played. At the first sign of weakness, you attack full force. You strike and you use every weapon in your arsenal, and you don’t let up. No mercy.

“I never said I was going to be a doctor,” he snapped. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Then tell us,” I said, and my heart was beating so fast.

No one spoke. For a minute, I thought he might really let us in.

And then finally, Conrad stood up. “There’s nothing to tell. I’m gonna head back out there. Thanks for the dirt bombs, Jere.” To me, he said, “You have sugar all over your face.” And just like that, he was up and sliding the porch door open.

When he was gone, Jeremiah shouted, “Shit!”

I said, “I thought you were gonna work on him!” It came out sounding more accusing than I meant it.

“You can’t push Conrad too hard, he just shuts down,” Jeremiah said, crumbling up the paper bag.

“He’s already shut down.”

I looked over at Jeremiah and he looked so defeated. I felt like bad for snapping at him. So I reached out and touched his arm, and said, “Don’t worry. We still have time. It’s only Saturday, right?”

“Right,” he said, but he didn’t say it like he meant it.

Neither of us said anything more. Like always, it was Conrad who dictated the mood of the house, how everyone else felt. Nothing would feel right again until things were right with Conrad.

chapter
twenty-one

The first time it hit me that day was when I was in the bathroom, washing the sugar off my face. There was no towel hanging up, so I opened the linen closet, and on the row below the beach towels, there was Susannah’s big floppy hat. The one she wore every time she sat on the beach. She was careful with her skin.
Was
.

Not thinking about Susannah, consciously not thinking about her, made it easier. Because then she wasn’t really
gone
. She was just off someplace else. That was what I’d been doing since she died. Not thinking about her. It was easier to do at home. But here, at the summer house, she was everywhere.

I picked her hat up, held it for a second, and then put it back on the shelf. I closed the door, and my chest hurt so bad I couldn’t breathe. It was too hard. Being there, in this house, was too hard.

I ran up the stairs as fast as I could. I took off Conrad’s necklace and I changed out of my clothes and into Taylor’s bikini. I didn’t care how stupid I looked in it. I just wanted to be in the water. I wanted to be where I didn’t have to think about anything, where nothing else existed. I would swim, and float, and breathe in and out, and just be.

My old Ralph Lauren teddy bear towel was in the linen closet just like always. I put it around my shoulders like a blanket and headed outside. Jeremiah was eating an egg sandwich and swigging from a carton of milk. “Hey,” he said.

“Hey. I’m going to swim.” I didn’t ask where Conrad was, and I didn’t invite Jeremiah to join me. I needed a moment just by myself.

I pushed the sliding door open and closed it without waiting for him to answer me. I threw my towel onto a chair and swan-dived in. I didn’t come up for air right away. I stayed down under; I held my breath until the very last second.

When I came up, I felt like I could breathe again, like my muscles were relaxing. I swam back and forth, back and forth. Here, nothing else existed. Here, I didn’t have to think. Each time I went under, I held my breath for as long as I could.

Under water, I heard Jeremiah call my name. Reluctantly I came up to the surface, and he was crouching by the side of the pool. “I’m gonna go out for a while. Maybe I’ll pick up a pizza at Nello’s,” he said, standing up.

I pushed my hair out of my eyes. “But you just ate a sandwich. And you had all those dirt bombs.”

“I’m a growing boy. And that was an hour and a half ago.”

An hour and a half ago? Had I been swimming for an hour and a half? It felt like minutes. “Oh,” I said. I examined my fingers. They were totally pruned.

“Carry on,” Jeremiah said, saluting me.

Kicking off the side of the pool, I said, “See ya.” Then I swam as quick as I could to the other side and flip-turned, just in case he was still watching. He’d always admired my flip turns.

I stayed in the pool for another hour. When I came up for air after my last lap, I saw that Conrad was sitting in the chair where I’d left my towel. He held it out to me silently.

I climbed out of the pool. Suddenly I was shivering. I took the towel from him and wrapped it around my body. He did not look at me. “Do you still pretend you’re at the Olympics?” he asked me.

I started, and then I shook my head and sat down next to him. “No,” I said, and the word hung in the air. I hugged my knees to my chest. “Not anymore.”

“When you swim,” he started to say. I thought he wasn’t going to continue, but then he said, “You wouldn’t notice if the house was on fire. You’re so into what you’re doing, it’s like you’re someplace else.”

He said it with grudging respect. Like he’d been watching me for a long time, like he’d been watching me for years. Which I guess he had.

I opened my mouth to respond, but he was already standing up, going back into the house. As he closed the sliding door, I called out, “That’s why I like it.”

chapter
twenty-two

I was back in my room, about to change out of my bikini when my phone rang. It was Steven’s ringtone, a Taylor Swift song he pretended to hate but secretly loved. For a second, I thought about not answering. But if I didn’t pick up, he’d only call back until I did. He was annoying that way.

“Hello?” I said it like a question, like I didn’t already know it was Steven.

“Hey,” he said. “I don’t know where you are, but I know you’re not with Taylor.”

“How do you know that?” I whispered.

“I just ran into her at the mall. She’s worse than you at lying. Where the hell are you?”

I bit my upper lip and I said, “At the summer house. In Cousins.”

“What?” he sort of yelled. “Why?”

“It’s kind of a long story. Jeremiah needed my help with Conrad.”

“So he called
you
?” My brother’s voice was incredulous and also the tiniest bit jealous.

“Yeah.” He was dying to ask me more, but I was banking on the fact that his pride wouldn’t let him. Steven hated being left out. He was silent for a moment, and in those seconds, I knew he was wondering about all the summer house stuff we were doing without him.