The Season of You & Me (12 page)

I laughed. “I hate that nickname.”

“I’ve come to think of it as kind of an endearment. Even the benny part.”

“Okay, friends.”

“Also . . . I’m kind of stumped—I want to teach healthy breakfasts for class next week. All I’m finding is really boring stuff, and I figure since you live at a B-and-B you probably have access to cool recipes. Something for the tweens. Maybe a meal they could whip up themselves? I know it’s short notice, but—”

“Yes, I’d love to.”

“Great.”

I got out of the car, pushed open the gate, and ran through the rain toward the porch. I was soaked so the attempt to get to cover faster was a bit silly.
Breakfast.
I could do that. That would be something to think about, to occupy my mind. Maybe Tori would include me in more of her plans if I came up with something good.
Benny Barbie
. I laughed at the nickname. I was back on track, the phone call forgotten.

I love you, Cass.

Okay, maybe not totally forgotten. But I would
not
call him.

I love you, Cass.

The words woke me.

I sat up, looked around the room.

They were only in my head, haunting me from my earlier call with Gavin.

Still.

There’s so much . . .

What had he been about to say before Emma came in and interrupted him? There’s so much . . . what?

I kept torturing myself with it.

I’d plugged in my phone across the room to charge before going to bed. Hoping, once again, that my trick of out-of-sight, out-of-mind, across-the-room-seems-so-far-away-when-I’m-comfy-in-bed would work. I’d resisted, but now, with my
room dark and everything so quiet . . .
I love you, Cass.

I wanted to talk to him.

I didn’t want to talk to him.

Only.

I did.

Why?

Deep down, I did miss him. In spite of everything.

The girl he worked with . . . Kaitlyn. It was easier to distance myself when I didn’t think of her name, or her, or when exactly whatever it was that happened between them happened. I never asked how she got the flask—I was too stunned when her friend came up to me, giggling and smirky, and handed it to me in front of school before first bell. I didn’t need specifics. I could see it in Gavin’s eyes when I gave the flask back to him. He hardly looked at me.
Something
happened. At work, after work, whenever. Not only had I been tagged in a picture of the flask on StalkMe, but a picture of him and Kaitlyn together from her account. Sure, they were side by side; nothing was going on in the photo but they were close, and the look on her face . . . the flashy smile, the way she leaned in, the way they leaned together. Was she the one who sent the
Dimples
card?

He protested.
Why would she tag you if anything had been going on
?

I didn’t know, but soon other people around school seemed to.

I’d gone from being invisible to gossip fodder over a weekend, and I wasn’t even in the picture. It was torture, feeling that exposed when I’d done nothing. My private life suddenly public. And the question I was left with, the one I still hadn’t gotten a satisfying answer for, was
Why?
I wasn’t sure there’d ever be one. Gavin hadn’t gone to prom either, but shortly after, Emma told me he’d been hanging around with Kaitlyn again.

And yet . . .

He’d been lurking on my StalkMe account.

He said he missed me.

I’m not with that girl anymore. I never really was. . . .

He’d be off to college before I got home. I wouldn’t see him again.

He. Called. Me.

I darted out of bed and grabbed my phone. Gavin’s number was still in my contacts.

I stared at it.

Then, before I lost my nerve or came to my senses, I called him. I walked over to the bed and flopped down, my hands clammy. One ring . . . then two . . .

If it goes to voice mail, I’m taking it as a sign and won’t leave a message.

He answered.

“Cassidy.”

“Hey,” I said.

“You called.”

“I did.”

We were silent for a bit, breathing. I didn’t know what to say or where to start or if talking to him even made sense.

“I’m sorry about before, Cass. Taking Emma’s phone, I just knew—”

“It’s okay,” I said. “You were right, I wouldn’t have answered. What were you about to say before Emma found you?”

“Um . . .”

“You said something like
there’s so much
. . . and then she came in. So much what?” I was insane; what did I think he was going to say? He didn’t even remember.

“Oh, right. I miss our talks. You listened. I knew I could always count on you to help straighten things out in my head.”

I rolled to my side.

“I’m listening now,” I said.

“How are you?”

“I thought we were talking about what’s going on with you,” I said.

“I’d rather talk about you. Why did you leave for the summer?”

“Gavin.”

“You could have said good-bye.”

“I’m pretty sure I covered that when we broke up.”

“Do you like it there?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Are you going to say more than single sentences to me, Cass?” There was humor in his voice. “C’mon, what have you been doing, what are you up to?”

I told him about Hunter. Camp. The scavenger hunt. The cooking class with Tori. Little details, no specifics.

“Have you met anyone?”

Ha. Was this whole conversation just to ask that question? I thought about what Emma said—I imagined telling him I’d been with half of Crest Haven then hanging up, but I couldn’t lie.

“I’ve met lots of people.”

“I think you know what I mean.”

“Gavin, what’s the point?”

“C’mon, have you?”

Bryan’s face popped into my thoughts. An unexpected rush warmed me. It was nice, but I wasn’t about to share my morning swims with Gavin.

“No.”

“I want to visit you.”

I sat up again. “That’s an awful idea.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have the time. And anything you have to say, you can say it now.”

“I’d rather see you, talk to you in person.”

“I’ve got to go.”

“Cass, please, just think about it. We could hang out, do
something fun. Remember how we used to talk about going to Ship Bottom? I’d love to go to the beach with you. See you for real in that blue bikini.”

I couldn’t pretend that it didn’t feel good to hear that, that for a split second I saw us together on the beach, the way I used to imagine, but no, it could never be like that.

“Good night, Gavin.” I pressed end before hearing his reply.

What can of worms had I opened?

“IS IT JUST ME, OR IS THIS SONG DOUCHEY?”

Field day had been rained out and postponed until the following Wednesday, which meant the whole day was unscheduled. Owen had been shuffling between our different groups, assigning us to various places—he’d had a contingency plan, but putting it into action was another thing.

We’d been sent to the multipurpose room to learn the group song with the music director—a sophomore who could play piano—for camp showcase night. Every group was required to do something for the show, I guess to prove to the parents that their money was well spent. The six-to-sevens were assigned “Somewhere Out There.” Lesson learned: kids who thought they were going to spend the day at the beach did not enjoy learning show tunes. Not that I blamed them.

And yeah, it was sort of douchey.

On the upside, Wade and I had nothing to do but chill until Owen told us where to go next. We hung toward the back of the room, keeping an eye out in case we needed to step in, but the kids had settled down by the third run-through and it sounded more like a song than random screeching.

“What do you want them to sing? ‘Black Parade’?” I asked, popping my chair and balancing.

Wade laughed. “That would be something. Keep the parents awake.”

Owen rushed into the multipurpose room, papers on his clipboard fanning as he made his way over to us. He gave a thumbs-up to the kids on stage before calling Wade and me over for what felt like a team huddle.

“You guys are off to free swim next, then cooking after lunch, and we’ll probably end the day in here. Maybe a Monty dance party—that’s what we were going to do at the beach. The ice cream guy said he’d serve rain or shine, so there’s that too. We’ll deal with this. First rained-out field day in ten years.”

“Monty was supposed to lead a dance party at the beach?” I asked.

“Yeah, only for a little bit. It’s too hot for him to be in that costume for long. Have you seen Nick?”

Wade and I shook our heads.

“Well, be ready, Wade—if Nick’s a no-show, I nominate
you to be Monty,” Owen said with a wink as he left.

“You’re kidding, right?” Wade called. “Mr. Beckett?”

“Relax, Nick loves the Monty thing. He’s here somewhere,” I said.

“He better be or I’ll hunt him down. Costumes and jumping spiders, my kryptonite.”

“And Tori?” I teased.

“Ha, right. I think we’re okay.”

“You so rarely sweat, man, it’s nice to see you’re human.”

“You okay going to free swim?”

“Don’t know, not sure if I’m up to the
how do you get undressed if you can’t stand up
questions in the locker room. It’s busy in there today.”

“Lake, you should go in. I’ll watch the kids while you get changed. You can take all the time you want. I told you Colby still hangs on to the sides of the pool. It might help with you there.”

“I’ll think about it.”

If noise could be used as energy, then the rec center pool would have powered all of Crest Haven for the year. That alone made me rethink going in. Jena was still on duty from the morning, and had two other guards for help, one who walked up and down the side of the pool with a flotation device, and another stationed on the far side. Out of habit I parked my chair at the end of the lane usually reserved for swimming laps. The lane
marker was still up, but kids were going up and over it. Wade was at the far end with the kids. He waved.

I put it out of my mind that anyone would be staring and let gravity do its thing, my version of a launch into the water. I landed with a loud splash and swam to the end of the lane toward Wade and our group. The moment I reached the wall, the kids swarmed.

You’re swimming!

Cool jump!

Why are you wearing shoes?

Bryan, play Marco Polo!

The last one was from H-bomb, who jumped up and down in front of me. Wade raised his hands. His minions quieted.

“Guys, guys, chill, you’re acting like you’ve never seen someone dive into a pool before. Give Bry some space.”

“Hunter, think you could grab me one of those noodles?” I asked, motioning toward the side of the pool.

“Yep,” he said, swimming toward Jena’s lifeguard stand.

“Not so bad, huh?” Wade asked. I shook my head. Being swarmed by adoring fans didn’t suck either. Hunter returned with the noodle.

“Ready to play Marco Polo now?”

I grabbed the noodle and leaned forward over it, putting one end, then the other, under my armpits. “I want to get used to the water, Hunter. Maybe in a bit.”

“Anyone who wants to play Marco, come over this way.”

The only one who didn’t want to play was Colby.

“You okay with this?” Wade said quietly so Colby wouldn’t hear. I nodded.

Wade took the rest of the boys farther out into the pool while I stayed with Colby. He was against the wall, lips trembling a bit.

“So you don’t like Marco Polo?”

He shook his head.

“Want to swim a lap with me?”

His eyes widened and he looked down the lane before shaking his head even more emphatically. I knew Wade told me he clung to the side, but I didn’t realize how bad.

“Well, okay,” I said, moving away from him. His eyes remained wide, and I realized my
I’m swimming without you
tactic didn’t work. “Can I ask you something?”

He nodded. I didn’t want to come out and ask him if he was afraid—that was obvious; I just thought maybe knowing more about it might help.

“Why does the water bother you?”

He shrugged.

A man of few words. We sat there awhile longer, watching the other kids play as Wade was Marco Polo. The kids splashed him, but he was a good sport about it. He yelled
Marco
and dove in the direction of about four of the kids, who laughed like crazy when he belly flopped without catching one of them.

“I don’t like to be in the deep water,” Colby said.

I turned to him. “Well, they’re not in the deep end.”

“And I think about sharks being under the water and it scares me.”

“Colby-Wan, you do know there aren’t sharks in the pool? I, for one, would not be chilling in this water if I thought that.”

“I know that, but sometimes I can’t help thinking it, and then I kick and can’t feel the bottom, and I don’t like putting my head underwater.”

“Even here? You know, there’s music,” I said.

“There is?”

“Yep.”

“Laaaakewoood.” We both turned to see Nick, in his Camp Manatee polo and shorts, standing next to Jena’s lifeguard perch. Her eyes were on the pool, but she leaned on her elbow in his direction, whistle poised in her mouth.

“Hey, Nick.”

“Looking strong. When we gonna see you at the cove?”

That was a question I hadn’t been prepared to answer.

“I don’t know. Pool’s a lot different, ya know?” I said.

“Your board is looking good. Waiting for you when you’re ready.”

What did he mean by that? “Has Matt been using it?”

“Uh . . . ,” he said, shrugging his shoulders to his ears. “Sometimes. You know, you should just get back to the cove. You’re missed. Hey, did I tell you I changed the name of my
slush? Gonna have a get-together to celebrate. I’ll keep you posted.” Jena glanced away from the pool momentarily.

“You have a slush?” Colby asked.

“Yeah. Pineapple and cinnamon, total flavor beast.”

Colby’s nose wrinkled. I laughed, but pretty much felt the same way about the flavor mix. “Sounds good,” I said.

“Mention my name when you go, you’ll get a discount.”

“Like free?” Colby said. The thought of a free slush trumped fake sharks in the pool, and he pulled away from the wall to look at Nick.

“Maybe for you,” Nick said to him.

That gave me an idea. “Colby, could you go grab me another noodle?”

He kept to the side until he reached the stairs, then went over to the flotation equipment and grabbed a purple one.

“Hey, Mr. Beckett’s looking for you, Nick,” I said. “Monty is supposed to lead a dance party this afternoon.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Guess I better go mop the floor.”

“Huh?”

Nick bent down to get closer to me. “Remember, the kids don’t know I’m Monty.”

I laughed. He was so serious. “Gotcha,” I said.

He stood up and put his elbow on the lifeguard stand. “So, lovely Jena, have
you
tried my slush yet?” he asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

“That sounds perverted.”

“I’d be more than happy to bring in a sample for you.”

“Stop distracting me.” She smiled.

“Fine, fine, duty calls,” he said, backing away. Colby handed me the noodle.

“No, buddy, that’s for you. I’ll make you a deal: you swim with me a little, holding on to your own noodle, and I’ll get you any size slush you want—well, if your mom says it’s okay.”

He looked past me down the swim lane, then nodded.

“We always go to Sip N’ Freeze. She’d be okay with it.”

“Okay then, let’s go.”

The noodle shot out a little in front of him and I pushed it back. He grabbed it and started kicking wildly, but at least he was moving forward. I let my own noodle out from under me and swam slowly next to him. Halfway down the lane he stopped kicking and floated for a second.

“You okay?” I asked.

He nodded, took a deep breath, and dunked himself under the water. He rose up sputtering and blinking.

“Dude, hard-core,” I said. He grinned and started kicking again.

I swam forward, making it to the opposite wall a good five feet ahead of him.

He kept pushing along, determined, until he finally reached the wall.

“You made it,” I said.

He slapped me a high five.

The look on his face said it all.

“So far we have a street name, Monty, a towel, and fireworks. Those seem pretty random to me. I give,” Wade said, leaning his head back into his clasped hands. We were in cooking, and Tori and Cass had given the kids an assignment to make cereal collages, while the four of us sat at another long table trying to figure out what the scavenger clues we had so far meant, if anything.

“You said you were going to work at this. I might have to jump ship and join Cass and Bryan,” Tori said.

“You know, he’s right though, it all seems kind of random,” I said.

Wade gave Tori a smartass grin.

Cass sat next to me, the list of clues between us. I kept sneaking glances at her. Her hair was loose and tucked behind one ear. I had studied her left ear so closely I could shut my eyes and still remember every delicate curve. She had three piercings: two small studs, a pearl and a diamond, and a tiny hoop at the start of the outer fold of her ear. Every time she moved the scent of something flowery filled the space.

“Yeah, I got nothing,” she said.

“Ugh, my brain is fried—why do you think I’m letting the kids do something as prosaic as a cereal collage? This is left over from making the marshmallow treats. I’m all out of
creative ideas today,” Tori said.

“Can I make one?” Wade asked.

Tori cocked her head. “Sure, have at it.”

“Cool,” Wade said, getting up. He came back with four small cups of cereal. Cass reached into one and popped an Apple Jack into her mouth.

“Hey, no eating the art,” Wade said.

“But they’re my favorite,” she said, grabbing another one.

Wade looked at Tori. “What’s your favorite?”

“Me? I don’t eat that crap.”

“You don’t eat cold cereal, ever?” Cass asked.

She shook her head. “That’s like one of Nick’s food groups. I think I’m better off without it. Must kill brain cells.”

“That and slushes,” I said.

Tori put her hand over her face. “Omigod, my brother the slush king.”

“As far as titles go, it’s not bad,” Wade said, gluing another piece of cereal down on the construction paper.

“Some people go through life never having anything named after them. It’s a pretty cool claim to fame,” I said.

“Or pathetic, if that’s your only claim to fame ever,” Tori said. “I have a feeling he’s peaked.”

“Have you tried the slush?” I asked.

“I think I’ve been to Sip N’ Freeze every day this week to pick up one for him. And oh . . . hell no,” Tori said, looking past Cass and me to the door.

We turned. Nick—or rather, Monty—filled the doorway. He shuffled into the classroom waving a flipper. A few of the kids ran over to him, jumping up for a high five.

“Monty, so good of you to stop by,” Tori said, standing up. “C’mon, guys, back in your seats. You can see him later.”

Monty crossed his flippers, or at least tried to, and shook his head in protest. The kids laughed and instead of sitting down, a few more stood up and went over to him. Only Colby continued with his cereal collage.

“Do something, they’re on the verge of being uncontrollable.” Tori looked between Wade and me. Wade focused on making his picture.

“They’ve been cooped up all day, they’re entitled to a little anarchy,” I said.

“Not here, not now,” Tori said.

Cass stood up and clapped. “C’mon, guys, Monty has to save his energy for the dance party. I want to see those collages.”

They reluctantly backed off. Monty grabbed Cass’s hand in his fin, pulled her to him, and dipped her back. She squealed, but smiled until he pulled her up.

“Seriously, dude, watch the flippers,” she said, pulling away from him and straightening her T-shirt. Monty put his flipper up to his mouth and pretended to laugh. Tori escorted him to the door. Cass came back over to the table and flopped down in her chair.

“I think I was just groped by a manatee.”

I turned to her. “So, want to get together this weekend, maybe look for the next clue or . . . you know, whatever, just hang out?”

“Um . . . like, the four of us?” Cass asked.

No, just the two of us, me and you, you and me. Us.
“Yeah, what do you think? Game, Wade?” I asked.

“I’m working Friday night, but other than that, I’m in. Ha, done,” he said, pushing the construction paper away. He’d made a heart out of Apple Jacks and what looked like Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

“Sounds good, then,” Cass said.