Invincible Summer(34)

W hen we’re almost done packing up the car to

go home, Shannon comes and sits on the towel

next to me. I’m throwing clods of sand down toward the ocean. But I’m so far away that they’re just smashing on the beach, like tiny, worthless bombs.

It’s three days post-birthday. They should all three go down in the awkward hall of fame. There’s nothing worse than two rival teams in one house. Eating together, watching TV together, sunbathing together. Washing their socks and underwear and team uniforms together. Unwilling unwilling unwilling to cut the trip short “just because of what happened at dinner.”

No wonder I spent most of my time hidden away in Melinda’s room.

“So you’re going home now?” he says.

“Yeah.” I’m not sure why he’s asking this. It’s pretty obvious. I turn toward the house and look at everyone hauling suitcases and shit to the car. “As soon as everyone’s packed up.”

“Uh, what home are you going to?”

“There’s only one home, Shannon.” I stop throwing and

pull my knees up. “My dad’s going to get his own place soon enough. And Claude and I will live there. At least at home they’ll be safe. Places to go. Here, everywhere is the beach.

Can’t get a vacation from vacation.”

“Like, same city as your mom?”

“Yeah, I think so. So I won’t have to switch schools. So theoretically I should see them still, except . . . except Noah will be at college, and Gid’s going away to deaf school, so it’ll just be Mom and the baby.”

“What about summers?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you’ll—”

“Hey.” I turn to him and stick my hand in his hair. “I’ll be here. Next summer. I’m coming back here. Okay?” I dig my feet into the sand. “Nothing could stop me from coming here.

Nothing.”

He nods, squeezes my hand for a second, then shoves me off of him. “Okay.”

“Chase?”

I turn around. It’s Mom. I totally feel like I don’t have to listen to her anymore. That might turn out to be a problem.

Maybe not.

She says, “Could you please find your brother?”

“Which one?”

She sighs, like I ask this question just to annoy her. “Noah.”

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do.” I stand up and give Shannon a hug. “I’ll see you next summer, man. Send my love to Bella.”

“Um, Melinda wanted to—”

I’m totally gone before he can finish that sentence.

Though I’m not going to lie, a part of me wonders what else Melinda wanted to do. What else is there to do?

Noah went over last night to say good-bye to her. That’s enough for all of us, I think.

I walk down the beach for a while. I’m pretty sure I’ll eventually run into Noah. I saw him less than an hour ago. He couldn’t have gone far.

And there he is. He’s down where there are no more houses, throwing sand into the ocean just like I was. Except he’s close enough to the water that his throws actually make it in.

And I’m pretty sure that he’s crying.

I say, “Noah?”

He breathes hard. “Say good-bye to your f*cking beach, Chase.”

I put my hands in my pocket to stop me from putting

them on him. It’s not the time yet, and I know it, but that doesn’t stop me from instinctually wanting to touch him.

Claudia’s been trying to train me not to be too affectionate, but I don’t know how well it’s working.

I say, “We’ll be back, man.”

“We’ll be back in f*cking pieces! We’ll be back with a huge f*cking dune on our beach, Chase!” His arm whirlwinds, scattering sand everywhere. “Fuck this f*ck this f*ck this f*ck—”

I can’t take it anymore. I stand behind him and put my arms around his waist.

He stiffens immediately, then relaxes his weight back into me. I feel his backbone against my chest. He heaves.

I hear the ocean and my brother crying and that’s it.

“We will come back here,” I tell him. “All of us. I promise.”

“Won’t be the same.”

“Dude,” I say, letting go. “Camus. It’s ‘ ever the same sky throughout the years.’” Noah wipes his nose. “‘ I live in my family, which thinks it rules over rich and hideous cities built of stones and mists.’”

I give him a little smile. “That’ll do.”

He says, “Chase . . .” and draws circles in the sand with his foot, concentric ones, smaller and smaller and smaller until he can’t draw them anymore. He says, “I wish we were together.

So much. You know that, right?”

I nod.

He holds out an I love you and says, “Stay absurd.”

I show it back and say, “Stay happy,” because the concepts are supposed to be linked. They’re supposed to both be possible. Different, but maybe a little bit the same.

He might not be a great brother, but he’s always been one to me.

Back at the house, I hug stupid Mom and blabbermouth

Gideon and sleeping Lucy; I hug them extra hard and prepare for the long ride home and the longer wait for next summer. When we will come back. 17th s u m m e r