“Sydney?” I say.
She turns toward me, her lips pressed softly together.
“I’m going to say hi to my friends for a minute.”
She looks down the shore to where Tyson, Kellan, and Emma are sitting in the sand around a medium-size fire. “Was that your friend who just shouted ‘yo, dumbass’?”
“Tyson,” I say. “I’m sure he meant it with love.”
“I’ll go with you,” she says. She stands up and shimmies the top of her dress higher on her chest. There’s no denying that she looks amazing tonight.
As we start walking, Sydney steps closer to me. “I haven’t really talked to Kellan or Emma since fifth grade.”
“I’ll be fine,” I say, both to Sydney and to myself. I know Emma will behave, but there’s no telling with Kellan. Earlier this week, she was calling Sydney a skank.
We pass the largest bonfire, where twenty or thirty kids from school have gathered. Most are drinking beer, and a few are smoking. Several girls wave at Sydney as we pass, and then quickly lean into each other and whisper.
When we approach the next bonfire, Emma is resting her head against her knees. I wonder what made her decide to come here after all. She acknowledges me with a faint nod, and then gazes into the flames. Kellan is sitting beside her, rubbing Emma’s back. Tyson glances at Sydney’s chest, and then jumps his attention to me.
“Hey there,” he says. “I didn’t realize you two were here already.”
“You mean the ‘yo, dumbass’ was for someone else?” I ask.
Tyson grins and slaps me five.
“Thanks for letting me borrow Josh for the night,” Sydney says. “I know you guys are really close. Did you all drive out here together?”
Emma and Kellan don’t respond, but Tyson shrugs and says, “I drove my truck. Some seniors needed help bringing out the firewood.”
“Then thanks for keeping us warm,” Sydney says, leaning against my arm. As she does, I catch Emma’s eyes flicker in our direction.
“It’s your dad’s truck,” Kellan says to Tyson. She stands up and wipes the sand off her jeans. “So, Josh, who are you two hanging out with?”
It feels like she’s challenging me, even though I’m not doing anything wrong. “We’re with Sydney’s friends.”
“Shana’s my friend,” Sydney says, “but I’ve never met those other people before. They go to Hemlock State.”
Tyson throws another log onto the fire. As Kellan looks between Sydney and me, there’s an awkward silence. I shouldn’t have come over here.
Finally, Sydney smiles at Kellan. “The last time we hung out was at your fifth-grade birthday party, wasn’t it?”
Kellan pulls her head back. “You remember that?”
Sydney nods. “We were on the same team for the water balloon toss.”
Tyson pokes at the fire with a stick.
Emma remains facing the fire, slowly rocking her chin between her knees.
“We didn’t win,” Sydney says, “but I take full responsibility for that. It was a bad throw.”
Kellan smiles. “You’re forgiven.”
Tyson slides over, patting the sand next to him. “Why don’t you guys sit down?”
Emma pushes herself up. “I’m getting something to drink. Does anyone want anything?”
Without waiting for an answer, she walks down the beach.
60://Emma
KELLAN APPROACHES ME at the coolers. “Are you okay?”
“I just want to leave,” I say. “Has it been an hour yet?”
Kellan dips her hand into the cooler, fishing out some ice. “I’m so sorry. It was stupid to make you come out here,” she says. “I was hoping things would be different.”
“They’re not,” I say. But in truth, they’ll never be the same.
Kellan throws an ice cube into the lake.
I glance over to our bonfire. Josh and Sydney aren’t there anymore. Tyson is laughing at some guys who are spitting beer on the flames.
“It was a dumb idea,” Kellan says, “but I was hoping you and Josh might—”
“Josh is with Sydney now,” I say firmly. “Didn’t you see them? If I had a chance with him, I missed it. No, I didn’t miss it. I threw it away.”
Kellan stares at me, but there’s nothing for her to say.
“Please,” I say. “I just want to go home.”
“Who’s going home?” Tyson strolls over and slings one arm around each of us. “No one’s going home yet. We just got here.”
Kellan looks from Tyson to me.
“You should stay,” I tell her. “I’m fine driving home by myself.”
“No way,” Kellan says, touching my hand with her cold fingers. She turns to Tyson. “We’re going to head out, maybe go over to Emma’s to watch a movie.”
“Why?” Tyson asks. “Aren’t you having a good time?”
“I’m just not feeling—” I catch a glance between Kellan and Tyson. She’s not ready to leave, but she’s too loyal of a friend to tell me. “I’m too tired for a movie. When I get home, I’m going straight to bed.”
Kellan studies my face. “I can leave right now if you want.”
“You should stay,” I say. “I’d feel bad if you left.”
Tyson grins at Kellan. “I can drive you home.”
When I was grabbing wood from the back of Tyson’s truck, I noticed a couple of rolled up sleeping bags. On their way home, what if Tyson and Kellan pull onto a side road in the middle of nowhere? What if they hop in back and unroll the bags beneath the night sky?
Ta-da. Lindsay is conceived.
“Are you okay?” Kellan asks me. “You made this weird face for a second.”
I point a finger at Kellan and then Tyson. “Don’t move. Seriously. Don’t go anywhere.”
I turn and sprint up the beach.
I STOP RUNNING as I near Sydney’s group.
Behind the log Josh and Sydney are sitting on, the pine trees cast huge shadows. I walk through the darkness and tap Josh’s shoulder. He shifts his body around. When he realizes it’s me, he smiles.
Sydney turns around, too. “How’s it going, Emma?”
“Hey, Sydney,” I say. “Sorry to bother you guys, but I . . .”
Everyone around the bonfire is staring at me now.
Josh scoots over to make room on the log. “Want to sit?”
“I can’t,” I say. “I was just wondering . . . would you mind . . . can I borrow your sweatshirt?”
As he unzips it, I lean close to his ear and whisper, “And your wallet, too. I’ll bring it back in a second, I swear.”
Josh must realize everyone’s watching because he sets his sweatshirt on the log before slipping his wallet into it, and then he passes them both to me.
“I’ll be right back,” I say.
I disappear into the shadows. Draping Josh’s sweatshirt over one arm, I slowly open his wallet. I slide my finger into the fold behind his student I.D. and . . . there it is!
I pull out the condom, its wrapper creased and worn, and stuff it into the pocket of Josh’s sweatshirt. Then I sneak up behind him again. I press the wallet against his side and he casually takes it.
“I’M STILL HERE,” Kellan says when I get back. “But Tyson went down to spit Mountain Dew into the fire. That boy is hard to control.”
Kellan tries sounding annoyed by Tyson’s antics, but I know she loves it.
“So why did you want me to wait?” she asks.
I look down at Josh’s sweatshirt in my hands. I feel stupid for what I’m about to say, but I don’t know what else to do. “It’s getting cold,” I tell her, lifting the sweatshirt between us.
Kellan stares at the sweatshirt, and then at me.
“I just thought . . . you’re going to need this,” I say.
She raises one eyebrow like I’ve gone insane. When I don’t move, she takes the sweatshirt and slides her arms into the sleeves. If Kellan and Tyson are going to have sex tonight, she needs to at least have th
e option of using protection. Of course, she may not discover the condom in time. Or she may find the condom but decide not to use it because it’s too ratty. But if I can’t warn her about the pregnancy, this is the best I can do.
“Is this Josh’s sweatshirt?” she asks. She holds the cuff to her nose. “Have you ever noticed how Josh smells like a pine forest?”
My throat squeezes up tight. I give her a hug and say, “It’s a great sweatshirt. You should put your hands in the pockets. They’re so warm.”
Then I say goodbye and walk to the path between the trees.
61://Josh
I SIT WITH MY FEET buried in the sand, my sneakers beside me. With my knees facing the fire and a thick blanket around my shoulders, I’m able to stay warm. I’m not sure whose blanket this is, but Shana was wrapped in it before. When she left with one of the college guys, I claimed it.
Sydney went up to the parking area a few minutes ago. Someone called her cell phone saying there were hot drinks available. A few of her friends are still sitting on the log on the other side of the bonfire. They’re juniors like her, but I don’t know their names.
The fire where Emma, Tyson, and Kellan were sitting has almost burned out. All that remains are glimmering orange embers. A few times, I saw Tyson and Kellan walking along the shore, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen them. And I haven’t seen Emma since she brought back my wallet.
I turn and look out at the water. The dark sky and the trees blend seamlessly. The lake is nearly black, with small moonlit ripples lapping toward the shore.
“Do you have room for me?” Sydney asks. She’s standing above me, her fingers wrapped around a Styrofoam cup.
I take the warm cup and she sits in the sand next to me. The steam rising from the opening in the plastic lid smells like hot chocolate.
“I’ll share it with you,” she says, “if you’ll share the blanket.”
I lift a corner of the blanket and she scoots her body close to mine, wrapping us together. The voices around the bonfire settle into a hush.
Sydney holds out her hand and I give her the cup. She takes a small sip. “That was sweet of you to give Emma your sweatshirt. I always knew you were one of the nice guys.”
I turn to her. “How do you mean?”
She smiles and offers me the cup. “Trust me, not every guy would give up his sweatshirt just because a girl asks.”
I take a sip of hot chocolate. “Emma and I have been close for a long time.”
Sydney exhales slowly, tilts her head back, and looks up at the stars.
“If you told me you were cold,” I say, “I would’ve given my sweatshirt to you, too.”
She hugs her knees against her chest.
“And to be fair,” I add, “I think you’re one of the nice girls.”
“Unfortunately,” she says, “being nice doesn’t mean you get everything you want.”
It feels like she’s talking about us. Even though a relationship with Sydney isn’t what I want, hearing her say those words makes me sad.
I pull the blanket tighter around us. If Sydney wanted to rest her head against my shoulder, I would let her. But she doesn’t. So we just sit here, side by side, sharing the warm drink until it’s gone.
62://Emma
I DON’T TURN ON my bedroom light or even my desk lamp as I sit in front of my computer and sign onto AOL.
“Welcome!”
I click on Facebook in my Favorite Places. The white box opens and I type in my email address and password. The moment my finger presses Enter, the monitor crackles and flashes. As the light fades, the AOL screen reappears.
“Welcome!”
When I look in Favorite Place again, it no longer lists Facebook. I turn away from the computer and stare into my dark room.
Fifteen years from now, I did exactly as I said I would.
It’s over.
I’M RELIEVED that my mom and Martin are still out. I head into their bathroom, where I brush my teeth and pull my hair into a scrunchie. It’s strange to see myself without my E pendant on.
When I get back to my room, I take the broken necklace out of my backpack and set it next to the blue vase on my dresser. At some point I’ll get around to having it fixed.
I change into a long T-shirt and climb into bed.
Maybe my future self really did need to focus more on the life around her. Maybe it’ll help make things better. Or maybe my future self feels a connection to my current self, and she knew that I needed to focus on my here and now.
I reach over to my stereo and slide in Kind of Blue. My dad used to play Miles Davis for me when I couldn’t fall asleep.
Outside, I hear a car drive up the street. For a moment, I think it’s my mom and Martin returning from their night out, but it idles in front of Josh’s house, the headlights reflecting onto my window.
I don’t have to look outside to know it’s Sydney’s car. She’s probably leaning over to kiss Josh’s cheek right now. If she leans in again, he’ll turn, pressing his lips against hers.
I didn’t feel it coming, but suddenly tears are pouring down my face.
I’m crying because Josh is going to marry Sydney and they’re going to have a beautiful life together. And maybe I’ll have an okay life, too, but I’ll never meet someone like Josh again. Josh is loving and kind, and he knows me better than anyone. He knows the real me, and he likes me for who I am. Josh is . . . Josh. And now he’s gone.
I press my wet face into my pillow. This is what heartbreak feels like.
63://Josh
“DON’T TURN OFF the engine until you get home,” I say. “It might not start again.”
Graham pulls his hand away from the ignition. “Good idea.”
When I left the bonfire, I asked a few people for a ride home, but everyone was heading to other parties. Then I noticed Graham Wilde about to jumpstart his car. I helped him hook up the cables and then he offered me a lift.
When I open the passenger door to get out, Graham says, “Say hi to Emma for me.”
I lean my arms against his lowered window. “Can I ask you something? When the two of you were going out, did you ever really like her?”
His headlights dim slightly, so he taps the accelerator and they brighten again. “You’re her good friend, right?”
“Yes,” I say. “I am.”
“I did like her,” he says. “But neither of us wanted anything serious. It was just fun, you know?”
I look away for a second. I can still see him groping Emma in the dugout.
“Emma’s awesome,” Graham says. “If I did want something long-term, she’d be hard to top.”
The headlights weaken again, and I step back from the car. Graham puts it into reverse and backs away, waving out his window.
When I open my front door, Mom and Dad are reading magazines, pretending they haven’t been waiting up.
“That didn’t sound like Sydney’s car,” Dad says.
“It wasn’t,” I say, walking up to my room.
I TURN MY RADIO to a low volume and then sit on the floor, my back against the bed. Next to me are the eight charcoal sketches from earlier.
Downstairs, there’s a knock at the door. I can hear Dad answer it, followed by they voice of . . . Tyson? Seconds later, two pairs of feet come charging up the stairs.
“Get up!” Tyson says, flinging open my bedroom door. Kellan stands beside him, wearing my black sweatshirt. “You heard the man!”
I put my hand on the mattress and push myself up. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re here to make sure you and—” Kellan stops talking when she notices the sketches. “Did you draw those?”
“Focus!” Tyson says to Kellan. “Besides, I can’t even tell what they are. Go back to drawing Tweety Bird, Picasso. Okay, so here’s the deal. We’re kidnapping you.”
“You and Emma,” Kellan says.
“Obviously, neither one of you were having fun tonight,” Tyson says.
“Not j
ust tonight,” Kellan says, looking at Tyson. “They’ve been like this all week!”
“Guys!” I say. “What’s going on?”
Tyson steps forward. “What we’re saying is, the night’s not over.”
“And this time, it’s going to be all four of us.” Kellan puts her hands on her hips. “Just the four of us. We talked to your parents, and they’ve extended your curfew until one o’clock.”
I can’t believe it. “Seriously?”
Tyson nods toward Kellan. “The girl’s got charm.”
“Now we need to get Emma,” Kellan says.
When Graham brought me home, I noticed Emma’s car in her driveway. I looked up to her bedroom window, but the light was out.
“She went to sleep early,” I say.
Kellan raises her hands in mock frustration. “I don’t care! She doesn’t have a choice.”
“How are you going to get hold of her? You can’t call her this late.”
Tyson pulls a flashlight from his back pocket. “The four of us go way back,” he says. “I know how you and Emma used to communicate.”
Kellan picks up my sketchpad, then she pulls a marker from my desk, and starts writing a note.
Tyson walks to the bathroom, slides open the window, and shouts, “Emma! Wake the hell up and look outside!”
Kellan laughs as she tears the note out of the sketchpad. “Oh, there’s no way her mom heard that.”
I shake my head and follow my friends into the bathroom.
64://Emma
SOMEONE SHOUTED outside my window, pulling me out of my sleep.
The last thing I remember is my mom peeking into my room around eleven. I didn’t say anything as she kissed my cheek and then closed my door.
I stretch across to my nightstand and press the top of my alarm clock, lighting up the red numbers. It’s only 11:20 PM.
The voice isn’t as loud this time. “Hold it steady.”
Is that Tyson?
I push off my covers and walk to the window. When I look out, I cover my mouth so I don’t laugh. Tyson has his forehead pressed against the screen of Josh’s bathroom window. He’s holding a sheet of paper against the glass. Someone else in the bathroom is shining a light on the note. Thankfully, my pink binoculars are still in the top drawer of my desk.