My Best Friend, Maybe Page 14

  He sighs. “It’s best when those three things are all the same, isn’t it?”

  I nod, and I think he can tell I’m nodding even though he can’t see me.

  “But, if it’s that hard to figure out, it’s probably best to be who you want you to be.”

  “Right.” Duh. It makes so much sense that I wonder how it was even a question. I keep the phone to my ear and rush into the bathroom, pulling a strap of my racing suit down off my shoulder.

  “I knew this vacation wasn’t going to be all fun and games, kiddo. I knew there’d be some growing and decision making, too, but—”

  “I gotta go, Dad,” I say, barely hearing him.

  “Okay, little lady, thanks for calling. I’m praying for you.”

  It’s the thing we always say to each other. I’ve only been away from my family for, like, forty-eight hours, so I don’t know why it seems like a line from ancient history, something from a faraway land. I don’t know why it makes me roll my eyes.

  But for some reason my dad keeps talking. “And I don’t mean I’m praying for, you know, your soul or anything. I’m just praying for you to be happy and safe and have a good time.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” I say. “Have a good day.”

  He laughs.

  Ω

  An hour later, when I’m lying on the netting on the front of the catamaran, with Sadie’s chatter to my right and the ocean sloshing underneath me and the sun beating down on all of the exposed parts of my skin, the bikini doesn’t seem that skimpy. It’s like the environment itself covers me up, the sunshine clothes me where the bikini leaves off. Sadie’s in a bright pink one of her own, her blond-and-purple hair spread out beneath her head, a gossip magazine propped up on her stomach and a stream of cheerful words coming out of her mouth. She is wearing a lot of makeup, too. I only have on a little lip gloss.

  “Look at that.” Sadie shakes the magazine and tilts it toward me so I can see some model in an angular black-and-silver dress.

  “Are you still hoping to end up on the red carpet one day?” I ask. Sadie’s dreams, like everything else, might have changed. We covered the past when we shared all those secrets two nights ago, but we still haven’t updated each other on our futures.

  She props herself on her elbow, facing me. “I forgot all about that,” she says. Even though it’s the whole reason she started putting those colors in her hair, and the colors are still there. And now, as we face each other smiling and remembering Sadie’s boardwalk strut from almost half a de cade ago, I’m not sure if she’s changing back or if I’m stretching to meet her where she went.

  Everyone else on the boat is behind us, behind the controls and the little indoor part, in the very back. They’re sitting around a table sipping sodas and wine and eating snacks. But Sadie and I couldn’t resist the water.

  The catamaran is like a square-shaped platform between two canoes that prop it up and guide it through the sea. In the very front, where we are right now, nets sag between the two canoe pieces and we can lie on them like hammocks and be as close to the water as possible. It’s saltier than any water I’ve ever been in; I can tell by the smell as the waves rush under my body. And it’s so blue. I can’t wait to get in, to feel it all over my skin.

  Sadie puts the magazine down. “No red carpet anymore,” she says. “I’m a little more logical now.”

  She smiles at me and I don’t smile back because obviously she had to grow up, but it still feels sad.

  “I’ve been asking Mom to get me voice lessons, actually. I could be a good singer, right? Maybe I’ll be on American Darling. Or try out for Star Challenge. You know, something like that. Something that leads to a real career.”

  Now I smile because American Darling and Star Challenge are TV shows, which means they aren’t that much different from being a movie star and strutting your stuff on the red carpet. Sadie hasn’t changed as much as she thinks.

  “Okay, everyone,” one of the crew members says, clapping her hands. The two of us look up at her and giggle because it’s funny for two people to be called “everyone.” “I was just explaining to the rest of the boat. First, we sail past the red beach, there.” She points and I follow her finger to the side of the island. Sure enough, a rust-colored cliff rises out of the sea and at its base is a shoreline of bright-red sand. The people on the beach are only little specs from this distance, but I can see them, swimming and sunning themselves and reading under umbrellas as if they’re on a beach that’s any normal color. “Then the black beach. We break for lunch. Then we swim in the hot springs.”

  “The hot springs?” Sadie asks.

  “By the volcano,” the guide says. “The water is hot. You swim right into it.”

  I feel my heart race and Sadie looks at me with big excited little-girl eyes. We’ll swim in water that’s like none we’ve felt before.

  The crew member disappears and Sam, Charlie, Mary Anne, and Rose come join us on the front part of the boat. Rose settles her body right next to Sadie’s on the same net. Sadie scoots over a bit to make room for her.

  “Hey,” Rose says softly.

  “Hi.” Sadie studies her toes.

  Rose is in a stylish one-piece, not the kind made for racing and not a skirted one like my mom’s dorky suits. I’ve never seen one like this before. It’s deep purple, which shows off the richness of her skin. It swoops low between her breasts and it cuts wide to show her whole back but it still covers her stomach. She’s not fat exactly, but she’s a big girl, tall and curvy. Her one-piece is somehow more sexy than my bikini.

  She leans closer to Sadie and Sadie scoots away. Rose moves like an elephant, each muscle shifting with exact precision.

  “How was your dinner?” Rose asks. It sounds like she’s trying to be nice.

  Sadie stares at me.

  “Delicious,” I say. But I’m not sure if Rose hears. She’s looking at the back of Sadie’s striped head while Sadie stares at me, and it feels like we freeze that way for too long.

  “What? Does novia have a problem with me lying here?” Rose says. She’s talking to Sadie and I don’t know what that means, but I know it is about me by the way her eyes are challenging me.

  My face burns when I realize I’ve been studying her.

  Sadie shifts away from her, not saying anything.

  “No,” I say. “No problem.”

  I yank one of Sadie’s magazines onto my knees and start turning pages even though what I want to do is smell the sea, watch the multicolored beaches go by, and wonder out loud with Sadie what it must be like to swim in volcanic waters.

  I angle my head around to see where everyone else is. Charlie and Mary Anne have climbed up to the pads on top of the catamaran. Sam is still leaning against the pole like he doesn’t know where to sit.

  “What’s her problem?” Rose says to Sadie again. “Did you guys have a fight?”

  Not recently, I think.

  I half hope Sam is going to settle his body next to mine even though I know I shouldn’t hope that when I still have a boyfriend. Sam is Sadie’s brother anyway and he’s so much older than me. There’s no way he’d ever think of me like that. Probably.

  “She doesn’t have a problem,” Sadie says. I hate when she talks about me like I’m not there.

  I twist back to Sam again. In a quick motion he rips his T-shirt over his head and then he’s wearing only royal-blue board shorts. His abs contract under his skin and his chest expands as he takes a deep breath. I’m in trouble.

  But I’m going to be the me I want to be.

  That me does not have a crush on Sam.

  And that me is not intimidated by Rose. Or by Sadie.

  And that me is friendly.

  “Have you ever swum in hot springs?” I ask both girls.

  “No,” Sadie says quietly. Her eyes are glued to her magazine.

  “Oh, she’s cute,” Rose says again.

  It’s one too many times.

  “I’m right here you know, Rose. I can he
ar you.”

  I say it calmly. I say it like I can be as intimidating as Rose is herself. But Sam, Charlie, and Mary Anne start whooping, and I realize they’re laughing at what I said, at me. They can hear me.

  I forget how water is tricky like that. How the splashing and crashing of little waves beneath my butt will make it difficult for the person next to me to hear something, while my voice will reflect off the water to be carried far away.

  Rose’s cheeks turn pink and it makes her look a little nicer. Almost pretty. She’s beautiful all the time, in that scary way, but embarrassment suits her.

  “Sorry,” she says, softer. “But it’s not like we’re actually going in the hot springs, right, Sadie?”

  “What?” I spit it.

  Sadie sits up and so do I. Sitting on the nets we’re almost eye level with Rose. We both stare at her.

  “The sulfur will ruin my bathing suit. It will ruin all of our suits. And you girls don’t want to ruin your bathing suits, do you?”

  Who cares about this stupid bathing suit?

  “Well, Coley,” Rose says, and I wince. “You do what you want. We’re not going in the hot springs, right, Sadie?” Rose gives her some meaningful look.

  Sadie turns her head to me, but she doesn’t say anything.

  “We haven’t been swimming the whole time. We have to get in the water,” I say. Plus yesterday, you promised. You promised we’d go swimming today.

  “How much did you spend on this suit?” Rose snaps one of Sadie’s straps and Sadie jumps away from her hand. “It’s BCBG. It probably cost over a hundred dollars. You don’t want to drown it in sulfur the first time you wear it, do you?”

  Sadie turns to me.

  “This is our chance to swim in a volcano!” I almost shout. “How many times in our lives are we going to get to do that?”

  Somewhere on the boat I’m aware of the crew pointing out the black beach and somewhere in my brain I know that I probably won’t get to see that ever again in my life and that I should be paying attention to the sea and the sky and the sun and the scenery rather than engaging in some twisted tug-of-war over my ex-ex–best friend.

  “If you wanted to go swimming,” Rose says, her eyes hard on me like black marbles, “you should have told her to wear a different suit.” Now she’s talking to me like Sadie isn’t there and I’m no more comfortable on this side of one of these backward conversations than I was on the other one.

  I sigh, trying to bring it down a notch. “You’re going swimming, right?” I ask Sadie as quietly as I can.

  She shrugs.

  “She won’t,” Rose says, all confident and mean. She smiles smugly down at Sadie’s blond head.

  Before I can stop it the words tumble out of me, hot pelts of flame. “What’s your problem with me anyway?”

  Rose leans across Sadie, her mean eyes zeroing in on me like I’m the worst person in the world. She speaks slowly, her words as exact as her movements, and so quiet that even with the water there’s no way anyone except Sadie and I can hear them. “You know damn well what my fucking problem is.”

  My eyebrows scrunch together and I tilt my head, more confused than angry.

  “Don’t curse,” Sadie says quietly. “Colette doesn’t curse.”

  But who cares about that right now?

  Rose straightens up and looks at Sadie. All of her armor has fallen off and instead of being scary she’s sad. “She doesn’t know?”

  Sadie doesn’t say anything.

  Rose speaks louder. “She doesn’t even know about me?”

  Sadie shakes her head.

  “How can she not know?” Rose demands. Her cheeks are on fire and this time it’s terrifying, not pretty.

  “Okay, okay, okay!” Sam says, coming up behind us. “Everyone should decide whether or not she wants to go swimming regardless of whatever anyone else is doing.” Sadie and I turn to look at him, but despite the proximity of his half-naked body I’m too angry and confused to register him standing there. “Rose, no one’s going to make you go swimming. Colette, no one’s going to stop you,” he says, smiling directly at me. The small part of my brain that wishes I’d watched the black beach go by also wishes I could enjoy that smile.

  “She doesn’t even know about me?” Rose demands again, standing up and towering over my shrinking friend.

  If Sadie brought me here to protect her from Rose, maybe that’s what I need to do. I twist my torso across Sadie like a shield. “What’s to know?”

  Rose turns on her heel and storms down the boat with remarkable grace considering the way it’s teetering back and forth. We feel each footstep shake the nets as she disappears.

  Once she’s gone, everything about what Rose just said clicks through the gears of my brain until it processes the truth. There’s something I should know about Rose. There’s something everyone on this boat knows except for me. Sadie has me on this boat and everyone knows something that has something to do with me and something to do with Rose and I don’t know what it is.

  I take a breath to stay calm. I try not to let the anger rushing through my veins flood out onto Sadie because I can hear my mother’s voice in the back of my head telling me that yelling never solves anything. I ask her very quietly, “Sadie, what’s to know?”

  She opens her mouth. She closes it. “I really thought you knew . . .” She trails off.

  “Thought I knew what?” I feel the heat in my veins building and building.

  She whips her head around. Mary Anne and Charlie are still a few feet away from us. Two crew members are to our left anchoring the boat.

  “I can’t tell you in front of everyone,” she says.

  The crew calls us for lunch.

  There are two tables for lunch on the boat, each spread with platters of fresh fish, bread, vegetables, and Greek sauces and spreads. Edie, Sadie’s aunt and uncle, and Rose’s parents are already sitting at the smaller, outside table, so Sadie and I have to climb down the steps into the main cabin and squeeze around a table with Rose, Sam, Charlie, and Mary Anne. Throught the open boat door, I hear the adults make jokes about the kiddie table as they laugh and clink glasses together Inside it’s stony and silent.

  We chew. The boat rocks us back and forth.

  Sam and Charlie manage a forced conversation about basketball. Mary Anne tries to ask the rest of us what we’re wearing to the wedding tomorrow. No one answers.

  I chew my cod, barely tasting its deliciousness. And I think. What could this entire boat know about Sadie and Rose that I wouldn’t know? That Rose would be angry that I didn’t know? That Sadie wouldn’t want me to know?

  And of course I can come up with a theory. But it can’t be what I think it must be. Because there’s no way that Sadie has been lying to me about something that huge for that long.

  So, I don’t talk. I won’t talk. I’ll sit here and turn into a human volcano, the hot angry words I want to yell sloshing in my stomach like lava.

  When we all climb back outside, the sun is lower in the sky and the wind pummels our bodies, trying to knock them over. Goose bumps crop out across all of the inches of my very exposed skin so I wrap myself in one of the beige, catamaran-provided towels and attempt to keep balanced on my way back to the front of the boat. It’s empty except for one member of the crew.

  “That’s the volcano,” she says.

  And there it is, rising up out of the sea directly in front of us, an angry black rock on the horizon. I sink onto the net, holding my knees in front of me to make myself as small as possible as we approach the volcanic monster.

  Eventually the rest of the “kids” come out and watch the volcano, too. But they don’t sit down on the nets. They stay behind me where I can’t see if they’re watching the mountain or staring at me, a tiny pebble on the edge of a catamaran, being sprayed by sea and blown around by wind.

  “You’re a quiet group,” one of the crew teases.

  Charlie and Mary Anne start talking about the volcano. But I hear Rose�
�s smooth, round voice beneath them. “So . . . you aren’t going in, right?”

  I don’t hear Sadie’s answer.

  The volcano gets closer. I can see that it’s not in the shape I expected—perfectly round like a fourth-grade science-fair project. Instead it’s full of bumps and planes, parts jutting out into the sky and parts that look like they fell away. It’s like any mountain, except surrounded by waves. The sea has lines of pale, almost white water streaking through the blue and they get larger and gather together as the monster gets closer to us so I know it’s changing the sea somehow. The smell of rotten eggs wafts around us, replacing salt and sunblock.

  Then it’s right next to us and I see that it’s actually not a mountain at all. It’s a desolate pile of black rocks, each the size of a giant’s fist. They stick out at sharp haphazard angles, like a bunch of coal-black giants drowned reaching for the sky, then froze. It looks angry. It matches how I feel. The ship is now surrounded by whitish water chopping against us.

  We stop.

  “Okay!” the crew member says, too perky. “Who’s going in?”

  I’m terrified. I’ve never been afraid to swim before, but I can see that swimming in the hot springs is not the cheerful experiment I imagined. Instead, we have to jump off the side of this boat, drop four feet into the water, and swim our way into the crack on the side of an angry mountain.

  My mother would absolutely tie me to the boat and refuse to let me move. But she’s not here.

  “When you first jump in, the sea will be cold,” the guide is saying. “But as you get closer, it gets warmer. It’s the sulfur. That’s what smells, too.”

  It smells awful. The wind whips my hair around my face and the boat rocks jerkily with the force of the waves. But I have to go now. I can’t back out after everything I said.

  “I’m going!” I hear her voice behind me, and I watch as Sadie drops her towel, trips across the boat’s surface, and propels her body, BCBG and all, into the sea.

  “Me, too!” Sam cannonballs off the boat.

  “Anyone else?” the guide asks. “It’s best if you stay together!” She’s still calling, but I’m already in the ice-cold water, propelling my arms and kicking my feet so I move like a dart toward the angry black hill.