Send Me a Sign(8)

“What is it?” I asked, hoping her latest plan wasn’t a reincarnation of last month’s “Let’s all get tattoos.” I’d barely talked her out of it. Maybe in her new idea I could find a sign for how to proceed with my own announcement.

“It’s the summer before we’re seniors—our last year together—and I want to make it the best one yet.”

“I already agree,” interrupted Lauren.

“Last year I was so busy with Keith and all his stupid college drama. We spent so long obsessing about long-distance relationships and where he should apply. Now that we’re broken up—thank God—I realized how much I missed out on and how much I missed you guys.”

Ally gave Hil a hug. “We’re glad to have you back. But you’re doing okay with the breakup, right?”

Hil nodded. “I forgot how much fun it is to go to a party without a boyfriend to worry about. So here’s my idea: we stay single for senior year. If we want to hook up, that’s fine. Mia can continue on her path to heartbreak with Ryan, but nothing real or serious. No boyfriends. Thoughts?”

“I’m in,” Ally said. “I’m bored with all the East Lake boys anyway.”

“No boyfriends? Like, none?” Lauren’s forehead was crinkled with horror.

“Oh, you can do it. You’ve gone through enough boys already,” Hil said. “Mia? What’s your verdict?”

“First, my heart is not in any danger. Second, I’m in.” Giving up boyfriends would be easy; Ryan would never commit. It was giving up the rest of my life that worried me.

Lauren twirled a curl around her finger. “If you’re all going to do it, I guess I’m in too.”

“Excellent.” Hil lifted her soda and we mirrored her action. “To us! To the Calendar Girls’ Single Senior Year. It’s going to be fab, wait and see. Drink up, buttercups.”

We clinked glasses and sipped. Lauren waited about ten seconds to launch her first protest, “But it doesn’t seem fair that Mia gets to keep Ryan.”

“Keep Ryan?” Hil scoffed. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“Shh,” Lauren said. “Here they come. Act natural.”

I tried not to snort—nothing in my life seemed natural right now. Was Mom right? Should I keep this a secret? I tried to imagine doing pedicures in a hospital room or watching scary movies with machines beeping around us. I couldn’t picture Ally reading Cosmo quizzes while I wore pajamas instead of a bikini. Hillary wouldn’t be able to sunbathe topless, and I doubted there would be space to recreate the dance numbers from her favorite musicals. Scenes we watched over and over until we had all the steps mastered or collapsed into giggles. Lauren might mind less—she wouldn’t have to worry about burning. Except she never could sit still. Being trapped in a room would drive her—and by extension us—crazy.

“Natural,” Lauren repeated in a whisper before amping up her smile.

Hil rolled her eyes and asked, “Mia, are we still going to the mall later?” When I gave her a blank look, she added, “Remember? To get you a bikini that fits?”

“I can’t.” I pulled my fork through my salad, poking at things but not eating much.

“I’ll go,” Lauren offered as Ryan Winters, Chris Matherson, and Bill Samuels reached us. “Hey.”

Chris and Bill sat by Hil, then commandeered Lauren’s fries. Ryan waited next to me, his face a display of amusement framed by dimples.

“Any room for me?” he asked when I didn’t get the hint. I blushed and moved down the bench.

Hil scoffed, “God, Mia, how much did you drink last night? I thought I was hungover, but you’re a total space case today.”

I forced a smile. “Too much.”

Ryan acknowledged the lie by squeezing my knee under the table. He’d spent last night offering to switch my water for “something more interesting,” and I’d declined each time. His blue eyes appraised me with a look that made me feel naked, both physically and emotionally. A dimple flickered onto his left cheek as he gave me his half grin—the one that made me want to find us a secluded corner.

“Where’d you go last night, anyway?” Chris asked.

“Yeah, and where have you been all week?” Lauren added. “You’ve been totally M.I.A. since that afternoon at your pool. Get it? M.I.A.? Mia?”

Ally laughed a little, the rest of us nodded and groaned. No matter how lame the joke, I was grateful it changed the focus of the conversation—no one seemed to remember I hadn’t answered either question. The first one was innocent enough, but Gyver and my friends ran in different circles; it never went well when I tried to combine them.

“I thought I heard someone say bikini shopping? Can I come?” Ryan teased. His smile settled on me like whiskey, making me feel warm and tipsy.

“I can’t. My mom wants to do something.”

“So? Cancel,” suggested Chris.

“Can’t. You don’t know how she gets if she feels ignored.” The girls nodded and Ally added, “Totally understand. It’s fine.”

Hil asked, “What time do you want us over tomorrow, Summer Girl? It’s perfect pool weather.”

I studied my salad, looking for clues among the lettuce and carrots, but the vegetables didn’t give me any signs. “Sorry, I’m busy.”