Girl Out of Water Read online

  I cut in. “By literary pursuits, she means thinly veiled erotica.”

  Tess rolls her eyes. “Like your Detective Dana books are great works of American literature. Don’t be a snob, dude. A good book is a good book.”

  “Very cool.” Lincoln nods. “I always mean to read more, but I have trouble staying still for that long.”

  “You should totally try audiobooks,” Tess says. “Listen to them while you skateboard or whatever.”

  Lincoln grins. “I’ll definitely do that. Do you have any suggestions?”

  Tess starts to respond, but I cut her off. “SO,” I say loudly. “Surf Break.”

  “Right,” Tess says. “Surf Break. Marie’s party isn’t for hours. You sure you don’t want to meet up with everyone before then?”

  I shake my head. As excited as I am to see my friends, I’m also overwhelmed and nervous at the prospect. For this afternoon I want to enjoy Tess and Lincoln in solitude. Besides, Tess told me she accidentally slipped up on the Lincoln secret, so now everyone including Eric knows about us, and I don’t know how to handle that.

  “Okay. We’ll see everyone tonight then.”

  Everyone. My nerves churn. Tess isn’t mad at me, but Tess is my best friend. She’s prone to be more forgiving than everyone else.

  “Motel/Hotel is playing near there, so we’re going to meet around eight, pregame some, go to the show, and then wander around and watch drunk people doing irresponsible shit.”

  “Also be drunk people doing irresponsible shit,” I say.

  “Yes, that’s a legitimate possibility.”

  “So what do we do until then?” Lincoln asks.

  Tess and I exchange looks and then we start laughing.

  “What?” Lincoln looks bewildered.

  Tess leans forward on the table and takes Lincoln’s hand in her own. “Lincoln, darling, sweetie. Anise just got back to her beloved Santa Cruz after a two-month separation. What do you think she’s going to do?”

  “Oh,” he says. “Right.”

  I grin. “Hey Lincoln, want to learn how to surf?”

  • • •

  “You disgust me,” I say as Lincoln trudges through the shallow water and back to shore, surfboard tucked under his arm, ocean water beading down his dark abs, that infuriating self-assured smile pinned to his face.

  “No, I don’t.”

  I grab Dad’s surfboard from him, and his smile widens. “There’s no way you learned to surf that well in one afternoon.”

  Lincoln inches closer to me, sweeps down, and plants a quick kiss on my lips. The taste of salt is sharp. “I have a really good instructor. Plus, having one arm gives me eighteen years of off-center superhero balance. Come on, give me the board back. I want to go again.”

  “No, you’re not allowed. At this rate you’ll be better than me by then end of the weekend.”

  “I’ve seen you out there. We both know that’s not true. Come on.” He reaches for the board, and I step away. He follows, and I step back again. Then he gets this look in his eyes, and he smiles, that dimple popping out.

  “What are you—”

  He leaps forward, and I yelp, struggling to get full control of the board while turning and breaking into a sprint down the damp shore, feet pounding on the packed sand, little splashes of water kicking up behind me. “I’m faster than you!” Lincoln yells.

  I’m not sure if that’s true, but he’s definitely faster than me when I have a heavy surfboard in my arms. He gently tackles me from behind, and we both fly to the ground, the surfboard cast to the side as Lincoln pins me, his body flush against mine. “Hi there,” he says.

  “I hate you,” I say.

  “Okay,” he says.

  And then he kisses me.

  • • •

  Five hours later, I’m lying on the beach between Lincoln and Tess, our backs pressed into damp towels, the early evening sun stalking us between scattered clouds. I know I’m home because with closed eyes I can identify each familiar sound.

  Bark, a dog racing down the coast.

  Crash, the waves rolling onto the shore.

  Squawk, the seagulls circling overhead.

  The sounds mingle with each other, and yet I can pick out each distinct one. My fingers twist idly in the sand, every so often brushing up and against the warm skin of Lincoln’s nub and then away again. He sleeps soundly next to me. Surfing exhausted him. Teaching him surfing exhausted me because I ended up competing more than teaching.

  Tess is on my other side, a paperback open across her stomach, sunglasses over her probably closed eyes. Even asleep, her presence is unspeakably comforting. I wish I could freeze this moment. I wish Lincoln wasn’t going back to Nebraska, wish Tess wasn’t going to leave in a year. I wish here and now would just stay here and now.

  • • •

  Later that evening, while Lincoln naps more and before Tess comes over, I’m organizing my room because, somehow, it’s already a giant mess. I move my tote bag to sort a pile of unfolded clothing, but then I pause. The weight doesn’t feel right. I rifle through the bag until I find my copy of Detective Dana’s The Last Stop on the Train. A sticky note from Emery is on the cover.

  Found this after we cleaned up your mess. Didn’t want you to forget it.

  But I don’t remember bringing this to—I glance up at my bookshelf. I have the same exact book there. This isn’t mine. Unless I have two copies. But I don’t think so…

  My fingers tremble as I open the book. There’s a signature and a personalized note from the author to my mom.

  May your travels take you further than the last stop.

  Aunt Jackie’s words echo in my mind. “Your mom was terrified to end up like our mother, to live and die in the same place without seeing the world…so she left.”

  It’s odd. My mom was terrified of ending up like her mom, so she left home, and I’m terrified of ending up like my mom, so I was scared to leave home.

  And in an hour I’ll discover if my fear was justified.

  I hear the front door open. “Anise!” Tess calls out.

  My heart races. This entire summer, I was so eager to discover something of my mom’s, but now it feels like I’m about to get caught with contraband. I stuff the book and thoughts of my mom in the back of a drawer. When Tess bursts into my room moments later, she declares we’re going to go all out for Motel/Hotel tonight. She drops a pile of neon and spandex clothing on my bed. Where and when she acquired all of this clothing is beyond me; she’s definitely never worn a bright orange spandex jumpsuit to school.

  After picking through all the clothing, Tess ends up in a black tube skirt and multi-colored neon midriff shirt, and I end up in neon purple leggings and a bright aqua sports bra. Lincoln, with limited wardrobe available, wears his trusty jean shorts and borrows a tie-dye T-shirt from Dad’s collection. It’s not exactly the right fit for an EDM show but decidedly better than his dark flannels.

  After getting dressed, we spend a half hour tracing our skin with neon and glitter paint. Lincoln seems more fascinated by the paint than Tess or me, and he spends a solid twenty minutes in front of the mirror perfecting the swirling neon mask around his eyes.

  “I didn’t know you had an artistic streak,” I say.

  He puts down a tube of glitter and wraps his arm around me. “I have an everything streak.”

  I roll my eyes. “My turn. Stop hogging the mirror.”

  However, my own attempts at the paint are so terrible that both Tess and Lincoln have to fix it for me. We then crack glow sticks and slide them on our wrists and necks. “All right, all right,” I finally say. “We’re properly decorated. Can we go now?” My nerves have kicked into high gear. I just want to see my friends and get whatever will happen over with.

  “Oh, almost forgot!” Tess says. She opens the freezer door and pull
s out a bottle of chilled liquor she must have put in there this morning. “Shots!”

  I wince. I hate shots. When I do occasionally drink, I mostly stick to beer. However, before I can mention this, Lincoln says, “Hell yes,” and sidles up next to Tess at the counter.

  “Come on,” Tess says. “You’re not getting in the water tonight. You’re not driving a car—not that you ever do that anyway. Your dad is in another state. And, most importantly, you’re about to have the most awesome night ever with your most awesome best friend ever.”

  “And me,” Lincoln says.

  “And him,” Tess agrees. She holds the bottle out to me. “Also, this is Bacardi Dragon Berry, and I promise you’ve never tasted anything so delicious.”

  I take the bottle from her. This night could be the best night ever, or the worst night ever. Either way, a little liquor won’t hurt.

  I unscrew the metal cap and fill the three shot glasses.

  • • •

  Thirty minutes and three shots each later, we’re all walking (stumbling, giggling) down the beach toward Marie’s house. The beach is ten times as crowded as usual, filled with Surf Break attendees. Unfamiliar faces pass, not just strangers but out-of-towners. I can always recognize when someone isn’t from Santa Cruz, and Surf Break always flips the ratio of natives to visitors.

  My body is warm and fuzzed around the edges. Dragon Berry doesn’t exactly taste good, but it doesn’t exactly taste bad either, which is probably why I ended up taking three shots and why I’m feeling quite drunk. But there’s nothing to worry about—I’m buffered by Tess and Lincoln. Nothing bad can possibly happen with a net so strong.

  We approach Marie’s house, and there are about thirty people on her back deck. Just a little further down the coast I see the main stage and hundreds of people already milling in front of it. The quick and low beat of the preshow music is loud enough to reach us. “Come on!” Tess waves Lincoln and me forward as she climbs the stairs to Marie’s deck.

  I hesitate, thinking of all my friends up there. Cassie, Spinner, Eric—oh fuck. I never told Lincoln about Eric, our kiss, our start of nothing. It’s not like I did anything wrong, but still, I should have told him. It’s one thing not to tell Eric about Lincoln—but Lincoln, I’m dating or whatevering him. I would’ve wanted to know if he’d hooked up with Wendy before we’d arrived at her house. I drop Lincoln’s hand. “Are you okay?” he asks. I’ve stopped in the shadows at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Anise?” Lincoln asks again.

  I play with the three glow sticks on my wrist, twisting them round and round. I shouldn’t be nervous. This is Lincoln. Lincoln is calm. Lincoln is reasonable. And it’s not like I lied to him. I simply forgot to share information.

  “Anise?” he asks again.

  I take a deep breath, wishing I could have one more shot of Dragon Berry to help me through this, and then tell him in quick words about Eric and the start of summer and that one kiss. Lincoln watches me the whole time, though it’s hard to see his eyes in the shadows, the enclave of the stairs blocking the light from the moon.

  After, I’m so nervous part of me wants to duck under his arm braced against the wooden railing and sprint down the shore, away from him and toward home. I’m nervous because I realize how much I care what he thinks. How much I care about him, his feelings. How much I care if this information will make him mad, or worse, hurt him. When I finish speaking, I want to grab for his hand, close the gap between our bodies. Instead I wait for him to speak, worried that he won’t.

  But then he lowers his arm, and his fingers thread through mine, and he nudges his forehead against mine so that we’re looking into each other’s eyes, and he says, “Don’t be nervous. It’ll be fine.”

  And I realize while I’ve been worrying about his feelings, he’s been worrying about mine. And that soothes me, cradles me like the water does on a tranquil day. I have this sudden urge to explain exactly what I am feeling, but I’ve never been good at that, so I lean forward and kiss his left cheek, and then his right, and then his lips.

  “What’s taking you guys so long?” Tess asks. I look up and find her halfway down the stairs.

  “Coming!” I say.

  With renewed confidence, I head up with Lincoln, my hand wrapped in his. He’s right. Everything will be fine. I have nothing to worry about. It’s not like Eric and I were in a relationship. We kissed once, and maybe if I’d stayed it would’ve happened again, but I didn’t stay, and that’s the end of it. And you can’t destroy years of friendship with a couple of unreturned texts, right? I’ve been psyching myself out for no reason.

  As we climb onto the deck, someone I don’t recognize hands Lincoln and me red Solo cups that are filled to the brim. I take a small sip. It tastes like vodka with a side of pink lemonade and burns going down. I spot two girls, arms wrapped around each other, black and white, short and tall—Cassie and Marie. My friends. Their backs are to me, and they’re talking in a group. I take a deep breath, wishing Lincoln would put his cup down so I could hold his hand again.

  I thread through the crowd and then stop right behind them. “I’m back!” I say. Okay, maybe I scream it. There might be a little more Dragon Berry in my system than I’d thought.

  I wait for them to turn, jump on me, and scream with equal enthusiasm.

  But they don’t. Cassie turns, gives a big smile that seems forced, and a hug that seems even more forced. “Tess told us you were coming, but we didn’t know if you’d make it. It’s good to see you. I missed you,” she says, voice subdued.

  “Welcome back,” Marie adds, the words chopped. She doesn’t hug me or smile at all.

  The warm air turns cold on my skin. This isn’t how my close friends should greet me. This isn’t right. Are they mad or is this just awkward since so much time has passed? Maybe we don’t know how to act around each other anymore. Or maybe I had reason to worry.

  I take another sip of the vodka lemonade, wincing at the burn, and force myself to soldier on. They’ve returned to talking to each other, so I have to speak over them. “So, um, this is Lincoln. I think Tess mentioned him.”

  Lincoln steps forward and grins wide, his dimple popping out. “Hey guys!” he says brightly. “Love the tie-dye,” he says, gesturing toward Cassie’s bandanna and then his own shirt.

  “Thanks,” she says. “You too!”

  I swear she gives him a warmer smile than she gave me.

  Lincoln, either sensing the tension or genuinely curious, then says, “I’m going to have Anise introduce me to everyone else. It was nice meeting you guys.”

  Cassie nods and gives another smile without meeting my eyes. Marie turns away from me. My stomach clenches. I’m not overreacting. Something is definitely wrong. My friends hate me. Should I apologize? Maybe, probably. I hurt my friends, abandoned them, like my mom always does to me.

  I take another sip of my vodka lemonade and then another and another as we weave through the crowd. The reunions with my friends continue to be tense, off-balance, not as icy as with Marie, but like talking to strangers and not close friends I’ve skinny-dipped with a dozen times. And I haven’t seen Eric. I keep Lincoln close to my side and scan the crowd for Tess since they’re the only two people I know for sure want me here.

  “ANISE!” someone shouts with actual enthusiasm.

  I whirl around to find Spinner running up to me, his hair loose around his shoulders, twenty glow sticks wrapped around his neck. He gives me a huge hug. “So good to see you! Shit, dude, it’s been way too long.” Then without pause he turns to Lincoln and hugs him too. “Nice to meet you man!” Spinner ushers us forward. “Come on, we must celebrate with shots.”

  I’m not sure if that’s such a great idea. I already drained my cup of vodka lemonade, and that combined with the Dragon Berry from earlier is more alcohol than I’ve ever consumed at once. But I’m just so glad—so relieved
—that at least one of my friends is actually happy to see me that I nod and follow him through the crowd.

  “I’ll be there in a minute!” Lincoln shouts. “I think that guy has glow-in-the-dark face paint.”

  I almost say wait, stay with me because I’m nervous to be left alone.

  I wonder how fucked up it is that I’m nervous to be left alone at a party with my own friends.

  • • •

  Everything blurs. One second I’m at the folding table with Spinner taking shots of something that tastes a lot worse than Dragon Berry, and the next second I’m in the crowd for Motel/Hotel, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, eyelids dipping closed then open, moving to the rapid electronic beat of “Sparkflash,” head and stomach swirling, sweat dripping. Someone passes me a cigarette, no a joint, and I take two long puffs, coughing afterward and taking a sip of—oh, the beer in my hand. Not sure where I got that, but it’s helping with the cough, so I take another sip, and then decide I don’t want to hold the can while I’m dancing, so I chug the rest and drop it to the ground, dimly guilty about littering my own beach.

  The song switches to one of Tess’s favorites, and I spin around to find her, but she’s nowhere in sight. Lincoln isn’t here either, and my heart races from more than the dancing. Spinner is to my right but dancing close with a girl I don’t recognize. Where is everyone? I push through the crowd, but the crowd pushes back. It won’t let me leave, a million hands coming toward me and holding me in place. I shut my eyes and count to three.

  When I open them again, the hands aren’t coming for me. I make my way through the crowd more forcefully now.

  When I get to the edge of the fray, I spot Marie and run up to her, stumbling in the sand, forgetting her anger from earlier tonight. “Have you—” My tongue feels thick, “Have you seen Tess or Lincoln?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” she speaks so softly that I swear I don’t hear her right.

  “What?”

  “I said,” her voice louder now, “are you fucking kidding me?”

  “I don’t—” I feel queasy, the Dragon Berry mixing with the vodka lemonade mixing with the beer and pot. “I don’t understand.”