Invincible Summer(12)

Noah looks at me and coughs, his eyebrows up in his bangs.

“What?” I say.

With a straight face, he recites, “‘I may not have been sure about what really did interest me, but I was absolutely sure about what didn’t.’”

“Come on. It’s foreplay? Seriously?” “You’re too young.” He flops backward. “You wouldn’t understand. You are a fetus in a world of Camus and spermi-cidal lubricant.”

“And you’re an *.”

“I’m just cynical. And you have no idea how far that’s going to take me.”

“Neither do you.”

“Au contraire, little brother. I know exactly how this college game works. I will arrive, the dark horse in a band of mushy-hearted freshman. College will pee itself in terror of my disenfranchised soul.”

I roll my eyes. “Beautiful.“


“Look. Listen to my words of wisdom. College’s only role these days, for a upper-middle class kid going in for a f*cking liberal arts degree, is very simple. Do you know what that is?”

“A diploma. A good job. Yay.”

“No. College exists only because it thrives on the hopes and dreams of the young and innocent. College is a hungry zombie here to eat your brains. It wants to remind you that your naivety is impermanent and someday, English major or no, you’ll wear a suit and hate the feeling of sand between your toes.”

It’s not going to happen to me.

Noah continues, in a low mutter, “Like that’s not already forced into our heads every single f*cking minute of every winter.”

“So you’re, like, essentially already educated, just because you’re an *?”

“Because I’ve resigned myself to my fate, yeah. I’ve pre-colleged myself. I’m rocking the institution, entering it already all disillusioned and shit. I’m going to single-handedly change the world of higher education.”

I clear my throat. “‘I may not have been sure about what really did interest me, but I was absolutely sure about what didn’t.’”

“Go to sleep. Asshole.”

I never have a hard time falling asleep, but I do tonight. It takes a while of thinking of Bella’s lips before I drift off. f o u r

I’m playing with a yo-yo under our house, sitting on one of the stilts that holds the foundation off the sand. All the houses here are raised at least eight feet off the ground.

Otherwise they would wash away in a storm. A few years ago, I got tall enough to hoist myself up here and perch.

My eyes are focused on the Hathaways’ house. I feel like you’re supposed to see a girl after you kiss her. My father always said that girls will take any excuse to feel ignored. I don’t want to go down that road. It would ruin everything.

When I see the front door to their house open, finally, I let the yo-yo sleep. It’s Bella, but she’s with her mom.

They’re screaming at each other—something about

spending time with the family and paying too much for shoes.

There’s so much about girls I don’t understand. I don’t know how I’m old enough to kiss them but not old enough to talk to them.

Whatever it means, in the grand scheme, right now it means that I don’t talk to Bella for a while. I guess I’m a little scared.

Cake.

I sign tomorrow, not that time means anything to a six-year old.

Cake now.





Birthday tomorrow.


I try to distract Gideon with the sunset over the ocean, but he’s not having any of that. Then Shannon and Noah run past with the dogs at their heels, and his hands scream at me to let him down so he can chase them.

“Be careful!” I yell after him.

From behind me, Melinda laughs. “All these years and you still shout at him.”

I turn around and watch her walk toward me, long arms

swinging against the hem of her skirt. I look away. My siblings and her siblings are all running around barefoot together.

“Habit, I guess. I have two other siblings to yell at.”

“And number three on her way. You excited?”

“Yeah, totally. Hoping it’ll . . . ” I drift off, my eyes follow-ing Bella as she collects seashells down by the shore.

“Was there a sentence to be completed there?”

I smile. “Put us back together. I’m hoping it’ll put us back together.”

She puts her hand in my hair. “Something got you down, Chasey?”

“I was just telling Claudia about how stuff used to be, and it’s just so . . . used to be.”

She nods and slips her hand back into the kangaroo pocket of her hoodie. “Noah used to be around more.” But she’s not with Noah now, even though he’s here. She’s standing here with me, and I don’t know why.

I say, “Noah used to be around a lot more. But that feels forever ago.” I rub my hair. It’s dry as dust. “Before we knew that Gid was deaf, I guess. Made stuff get complicated.”

She says, “You guys do okay, though. I mean, he’s happy.

Playing with Bella and Shannon.”

“He can’t talk to them. We can barely talk to him.”

“What’s the point of talking?”