Girl Out of Water(6)

As we wait for the others to arrive, I tell her everything—everything except for the postcard because if I don’t tell her about it, then maybe it won’t exist.

Tess suggests alternate solutions to Dad’s plan, ranging from moving in with her for the summer to flying Aunt Jackie to Santa Cruz to recover, anything to keep me from disappearing for months. But I know there’s no other solution because Dad loves me, and he knows I love home, and he wouldn’t move us out to Nebraska for the summer unless he had to. And beyond that, I know I should want to go, I should want to help my family.

But knowing and wanting are two very different things.

“Maybe I can visit,” Tess says. Her hand leaves mine as she sits up, jarring me more than it should. The longest we’ve ever been apart was when she visited her extended family in Samoa for two weeks last summer.

“Maybe,” I say. “But what about work?”

Tess works at her parents’ restaurant, a small café off one of the crowded tourist strips that serves up authentic Samoan dishes, like these sweet coconut buns so obnoxiously delicious they were featured on one of those Food Network shows.

“The problem isn’t getting off work so much as not being able to afford a plane ticket. As much as my parents love you, I don’t think they’re going to foot the bill for a trip to Nebraska.”

“Why? Don’t they know it’s a destination hot spot?”

We both laugh, then fall silent.

“Look.” Tess nudges my leg. “The others are coming. And I spy a very striking sir by the name of Eric.”

Eric. I dig my fingers into the sand. I think of our bodies drawing nearer all afternoon and the way our eyes kept meeting. This summer could have changed everything for us. We could have pressed closer each day until there was no distance between us. Tomorrow, I’m not just leaving Santa Cruz—I’m leaving the possibility of us.

No Eric, no Tess, no surfing, no Surf Break—the punishments continue to pile up for a crime I didn’t commit. Before I can give it more thought, Eric, Marie, and Cassie arrive, laden with surfboards, drinks, and food. Tess and I stand to greet them.

“What’s happening with this Nebraska trip?” Eric asks. I imagine his eyes wide with panic. It’s hard to tell in the dark.

I quickly relay the story once more. My friends look as devastated as I feel. “But dude,” Marie says. “It’s final summer. You can’t miss final summer.” Along with Cassie, Marie will be gone next year too, starting prelaw at Northeastern on the other side of the country. By the time I get back we’ll only have a couple of days together.

Maybe this was a bad idea, inviting all my friends out tonight, giving myself a taste of what I’ll be missing for months…and then forever. Even though I still have another full year with Tess and Eric, they’re both applying out of state for college, and I’m staying here and applying to the University of Santa Cruz.

I’m not ready to know what good-bye feels like.

“Come on,” Cassie says. Her dark skin is luminous in the moonlight. Between her toned muscles and confidence, she always looks so strong. The navy should put her in one of their brochures. “Let’s get some driftwood and get this night started. If this is the only Anise I’m going to get all summer, I want to make it count.”

We split off to hunt for whatever sticks and brush the sea has churned out for us, baked dry from a day under the blistering sun. Eric walks by my side. He seems to be nearer than usual. But the night does that to your senses, makes it feel like everything is closing in.

We walk in silence, drifting down the coastline and occasionally picking up bits of wood. I want to say something, but the words don’t form. As we turn back toward the Litchfield Dunes, Eric reaches out and grabs my hand. The scraps of wood I’ve gathered almost fall to the ground as I turn to face him, my heart pounding in my ears, like that ten footer is staring me in the face all over again.

He catches my gaze.

This is it. He’s going to kiss me.

But then he doesn’t.

He takes a small object out of his pocket and hands it to me. My body tightens at the sight. I have to shift the pile of driftwood in my arms to accept it.

“I found it on the walk over here.” He takes a short breath. “Anise,” he says, his voice taut. “This summer won’t mean anything without you.”

I look down at a milky-blue sea marble in my hand.

When I glance back up, Eric is heading back to the dunes alone.

? ? ?

An hour later, more friends have arrived. A small campfire burns away, Motel/Hotel, our favorite electronica band, plays lightly from someone’s iPhone speakers, and marshmallows crisp by the flames. I’m sitting nestled between Eric and Tess, my two anchors. Conversation flows over me as my eyes flit between the fire and the waves.

“Anise.” Tess pokes me in the shoulder. “Anise,” she repeats.

“What?” I snap back to attention.

“Truth or dare.”

I laugh. “You can’t be serious.”

“Come on,” Spinner says, pulling his hair into a tangled ponytail. Spinner moved in across the street from me six years ago and has been using my boardwalk to access the beach ever since. “We haven’t played in forever. It’ll be fun.”

“There’s a reason for that,” I say. “Remember the incident with Cassie and the sea bass and the annoyed paramedic?”