You'd Be Home Now (17)

“Well, Ryleigh, you know what?”

She bounces up and down. “What?”

“There’s somebody out there in this big old world who’s very quiet, and you know what?”

“What?”

“You’re going to meet them, and they are going to love every single thing you have to say.”

She smiles and does a handstand. I tickle her water-wrinkled feet.

Upstairs, the light in Maddie’s room switches on and then off again.



* * *



—

Ryleigh has gone home, pushing a lounge chair to the wall to climb back over. I hoisted her as best I could, made sure to listen to the click of her back door, that she got in safe.

    I float for a little bit longer, staring at my stars, before I decide to get out. I’m toweling off when my phone flashes.


Hey



My heart starts pounding so hard my ears swim. Maybe if I’d listened closer in Biology and Anatomy last spring I’d know what this particular sensation is called.

My fingers tremble a little as I type back, Hey.


I’m about to pull up in the drive. You outside?

Yes

See you in 15

Ok



I wait in the pool house. It’s like a tiny house, with a simple shower and some long built-in benches with cushions. Extra towels, sunscreen. Silly signs like beach this way with an arrow pointing outside, toward the pool. I shake out my hair.

The door opens. Moonlight floods the small room.

“Hey, you,” says Gage.

He closes the door, encasing us in darkness. It takes a few minutes for my eyes to adjust, but then there he is, finally home, here in front of me.

“Hey,” I say lightly. I can’t act too excited to see him; he gets weirded out by that. I did that in the spring once and he didn’t text me back for a week.

“Stand up,” he says.

Gage is so much taller than me, I barely clear his chest. Standing so close to him feels electrical, bolts of heat and light that erase the pain in my knee, my thoughts about Joey, everything, because I know in a few minutes I am going to feel better.

    “I missed you,” he says. He snaps the strap on my swimsuit. “I like this. Did you miss me, too?”

But he doesn’t wait for me to answer.





11


IT STARTED WITH ANNE Sexton. Or maybe Arthur Miller. Possibly Henry James. All I know is, three dead writers led to me hooking up with the boy next door. Not the most romantic start, but as Joey would say, it is what it is.

I was waiting up for Joey last spring, in my room, reading at my desk in front of the window, when the light in Gage’s bedroom suddenly came on and startled me. It was late; I thought he’d be asleep. He’s always training and then sleeping and then getting up early to run. In a weird way, he’s like an extremely hot-looking hamster stuck inside a wheel.

I looked up, blinking.

There he was, staring at me. He gave me a little wave and then sat down at his own desk. Pulled out some notebooks, his iPad, lowered his head. Frowned. Chewed on a pencil. Sighed. Fiddled with his phone.

My phone vibrated on the desk. I picked it up. I didn’t recognize the number, but I looked at the message anyway.


U should be sleeping



How did you get my number? I typed back.


I have my ways what are u doing



    I was afraid to look up. Would he be staring at me through his window? Could he tell my face was bright red? Could he see my hands shaking? Stupid stuff like that.


Reading a book for class

Me too, I dont get this book at all haha What is it?

Death of a Salesman

That’s not a book, it’s a play Well it’s IN a book so it’s a book it has pages!

The dad is too sad everybody is sad I would say that’s a very true statement of life in general That’s funny!

I guess

I still remember that party your mom gave. 8th grade, remember? She had you recite that poem.



I remembered. We had to memorize a poem for English. It could be anything we wanted, as long as we learned it by heart. “The Black Art,” by Anne Sexton. I found the collection in Maddie’s room. My teacher said it was advanced, possibly because the word erections shows up. To be honest, I wasn’t exactly clear on that at the time and there was a lot of giggling when I recited it for our class. My parents had a cocktail party and my mother made me put on a nice dress and stand in front of everyone and read it aloud, this time from the book. This time, erections seemed to create a hush in the roomful of adults, but no one was going to question my mother. I remember that my voice shook, and the party guests stood awkwardly in lovely clothes.

    People clapped politely when it was over.

Gage texted, She thinks she can warn the stars It’s a line from the poem. The one that really made me love the poem, in fact, when the rest of the poem is a little weird. But I think there’s something interesting about warning the stars, when in most poetry, the stars would be warning you.


…

I never forgot that line. I don’t know what it means, but I liked it, I guess.

Me too



I decided to sneak a glance at his window and there he was, a half smile on his face, looking directly at me.