The Lies About Truth(32)

I opened the letter and braced myself for regurgitated words. This one was from my freshman year.

Gina and I convinced Trent, Gray, and Max to skip school and go to the water park. Best idea ever.

—From a friend who cares

Just last week, Sonia brought up this very occasion in the dressing room.

I leaned back onto my bed.

A friend who cares? Sonia would never call herself a friend; she was a parent.

But Gina would. And she’d surely heard Sonia’s reference.

The friend hadn’t shown up in the first note, but had in the second, and now he or she claimed to be a caring individual. Awesome. Someone had been poorly trained in the rules of affection. Regardless, the letters had a progression to them. The first one, skinny-dipping, was about Trent and me. The second one, bridge-jumping, was with Gray. This third one was about all five of us. The five of us hadn’t been together all that often.

Did that mean anything?

Also, Gina and I weren’t mentioned in a specific memory, except within this group one. Did that implicate her?

I thought back through that day and searched for clues.

I was the first to notice the sun was too perfect for school. The sidewalk beside Coast Memorial High School led to boredom and monotony on such a fabulous day.

“You guys, I can’t . . .”

“Can’t what?” Trent said.

“Be here. Look at this day. It’s practically a crime to be inside.”

Trent and Gina paused. We never skipped school, which meant we could. Our faithful obedience to the system meant we’d earned some flextime.

Gina scrunched her forehead, curious enough to listen. “What are you thinking, Sade?”

“It’s a perfect day to race down the waterslides at Cannon Balls.”

Gina looked at Trent, who was already nodding.

“Yes indeed, Sadie May. You have said a true thing, and we have an obligation to follow you.”

“What are you? Yoda?” Gray asked as he mocked Trent’s words.

Max was the only one still focused on school.

“If you skip, you still have to pick me up,” he told Trent.

Trent tapped the top of the Yaris, excited about a prison break. “You don’t want to come with?”

Max’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “I’m invited?”

“What can I say? I’m feeling generous,” Trent boasted, sticking out his chest.

Max didn’t look comfortable going to Cannon Balls as a fifth wheel, so I threw an arm around his shoulder and coaxed him into going along with our stupid idea. “Come on. It’ll be fun to have you along,” I told him.

That was all it took. He climbed in the backseat while Gina and Gray—who always carpooled from their side of town—grabbed their always-ready beach bags and left his mom’s van in the parking lot. Five of us in the Yaris were a snug fit, but we couldn’t skip school in a mom-mobile.

“You got trunks on you, little bro?” Trent asked.

“I can roll,” Max said. “I’m calling it now: Mom will find out about this.”

Trent bent his arm into the backseat and patted Max’s knee. “She won’t find out unless you tell her.”

“Lips are zipped,” Max promised.

We arrived at Cannon Balls, and as usual, Max trailed along two steps behind the four of us. I caught his eye, and beckoned him forward. He sped up quickly then. The day shaped up even more perfectly when the five of us walked to the ticket booth to pay and a recent Coast Memorial alum, Winter Halson, waved us through without charge. Even the universe didn’t want us inside today.

Trent leaned through the window and punched Winter on the arm. “Thanks, man.”

“Anything for a brother,” Winter said.

Trent had a talent for making brothers.

“You’re ballsy, McCall,” Winter called after us.

“Sadie May gets the cred for this one,” Trent yelled back, and kissed Gina on the cheek.

An hour later, Max and I were at the top of the speed tubes. He gave me a “Race you” challenge, and I nodded, eyes blazing. So far, I’d beaten Trent, Gray, and Gina to the bottom. Four for four sounded good to me, but Max was in total beast mode.

Just before we hurled ourselves down the plastic chutes, his expression softened, and he said, “Thanks for inviting me today.”

I did what anyone in my position would have done. I pushed off from the top ahead of him and screamed, “No worries!” as I dropped and spun.

The words echoed around me. The water propelled me forward, faster, faster, faster into my perfect day. I was sure I would win.

Dammit if Max didn’t emerge two seconds ahead of me. Dammit squared. He shot so far out he crashed into a woman wading across the pool to the lazy-river entrance. A Cannon Balls employee blew her whistle.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Max said without looking, flipping his hair back and spewing droplets everywhere. Then he whipped around to me and smirked. “Creamed you, Kingston.”

Technically, he’d creamed Sonia McCall, his mother, since she was the lady he’d mowed down into the cement bottom of the pool.

Sonia came to her full senses well before Max realized his mistake.

“Maxwell Lincoln McCall, why aren’t you in school?”

Whoa. Full name.