Page 52 of The Summers of Us

Coward. My best friend stabbed the rest of my cool into the thin air. The room almost couldn’t hold it all. Her words cut through me and my chest tried to pump them out. Heat peppered on my cheeks. My shoulders bobbed in sync with my quick breaths.

My tears fell from my eyes, straight to my feet.

I caught the first whimper in my hand and ran out onto the balcony of Haven’s room. I slammed the door shut behind me so hard that it shook under my bare legs. I knew Haven felt it in the room, and I knew she saw me crying, and I didn’t care what she was going to do about it.

The smooth wood pressed into the sunburn on my thighs. I looked toward the ocean’s call. The ocean was somewhere beyond here, but it was hiding behind the pine trees. A widow’s walk roof peeked through the treetops, looking at the white-capped waves and everything else beyond the horizon.

I pictured a woman from wartime waiting for her husband to come back and wondered if it was easier to lose a man who still loved you or lose one because he didn’t love you enough.

I folded my legs into my arms.I love me enough. My chest rose and fell faster and faster as I cried into my kneecaps. The tiara slipped from the crown of my head. I forgot I even had it on.God, I must look so stupid. I whimpered quietly enough that the frogs couldn’t hear me croak. Frogs didn’t give kisses to girls who still cried about something that happened six years ago.

Frogs didn’t kiss girls who couldn’tget over it.

I knew I needed to get over it.

I knew it was irrational.

I knew not every man crossed his fingers behind his back during his wedding vows and slept with women that weren’t his wife. I’d never forget the sound of my mom crying from her room. Our apartment was small, so no matter how quiet she thought she was being, I heard everything through our shared wall. I heard every “fuck her!” that I thought for years referred to me. I heard every wail she hid behind shaking palms. I heard every half of every argument they had for the four months he was sleeping at his girlfriend’s house. I couldn’t forget the feeling of being stretched out on the floor in the doorway of my bedroom. How my jaw ached from resting it on my forearms too long. The smell of dust trapped in the floor. The headaches that ripped through my temples from blinking too many silent tears into the carpet.

I’d wake up at 3am with carpet prints on my cheeks, wipe the line of drool from my chin, and sneak into my mom’s bed to give her the comfort in sleep that I didn’t know how to give her awake. Mom was never in the bed when I woke up. The only thing that stayed was my headache and dried tears.

How could I ever believe that I was good enough, if my own mom wasn’t enough? How could I be sure that my boyfriend wouldn’t need another woman to make him completely happy?

I was half of a woman who wasn’t enough and half of a man who couldn’t find enough.

My dad couldn’t find a reason to stay loyal to his wife, or a reason to fight for custody of me. If I wasn’t good enough for my father, how could I be good enough for anyone else?

I love you, Quinn. I will never leave you.

The seal on the door broke and Haven walked out with two wrapped popsicles. Her dress was still tightened around her frame. She closed the door behind her with her toes. The evening breeze blew baby hairs across her face, hiding a remorseful smile that stayed on her face while she sat down. The wooden slats creaked. Her dress bunched up at her side.

She handed me a popsicle and smoothed out the tulle on her lap.

My popsicle was orange. This gave me a millimeter of a smile, no matter how much I tried to fight it. Maybe that was why it took her so long to come outside—she had to hold the freezer door open and squint her eyes to see the color through the paper wrapper. Maybe she was just doing what she always did when Saray bought a new box of popsicles, or maybe she didn’t know how to approach her best friend after making her cry.

Maybe it was both, which was why Haven tapped my toes with hers and tore the wrapper off her own red popsicle. She cleared her throat, cherry juice on her lips. “I’m sorry for what your dad did. I can’t pretend to understand what you went through and I shouldn’t have acted like I know better. I was an asshole and I shouldn’t have said those things. I’m sorry. I don’t think you’re a coward. You’re the bravest person I’ve ever met.”

I watched popsicle juice drip down my stick, not knowing what to say. So Haven took a different approach.

“You deserve a rollercoaster.”

I looked at her, swallowed the pain with mucus. “A rollercoaster?”

“Yes, I wish you could see that you deserve a rollercoaster.” She looked at me with sunset eyes. They bled the color of steeped black tea. “You deserve someone who shows you the ups and downs of relationships. Yes, thereareups and downs, but you need someone to show you that most people stay strapped in with you through the downs.”

I thought about that day at the Boardwalk two summers ago. I met Everett that day, but I was too afraid to ride Tsunami. Still, he was excited to ride the carousel with me instead. I knew that wasn’t what Haven meant—I knew she was speaking in metaphor—but if I couldn’t even find the courage to ride a measly rollercoaster, how would I ever get the courage to ride a relationship?

Did a carousel count?

“I swear on cherry popsicles there’s a guy out there who’ll wait in line as long as it takes to ride a rollercoaster with you.”

I thought about when the carousel stopped. Children filed off their bejeweled porcelain horses, their arms outstretched for their parents. Their eyes glimmered with excitement. If I had been one of those children, my dad wouldn’t have been there to greet me and my mom wouldn’t have let me ride it in the first place.

I looked at the falling sun. “Every rollercoaster has an end.”

“So does everything good in the world. And everything bad too! Our popsicles won’t last longer than we or the heat allow.” She held one hand upside down. A drop of cherry juice ran off her ring finger and soaked into the thirsty balcony. It barely missed the yellow tulle sprawled out around her. She licked the rest off her hand. “There’s always a freezer full of ‘em.”

I smiled so weakly I wasn’t convinced it was visible at all. I looked at my own orange popsicle melting fast in the sunset. The juice caught the sun and glinted when I turned it in circles.

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