Girl Out of Water(82)

“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.