Lessons from a Dead Girl(25)

I turn my back to Jess while we both get dressed. I’m sweating.

Please don’t let me have any weird feelings.

Please don’t let her look at me.

Please don’t let her be like Leah.

I dress as fast as I can, trying to hide myself as I do.

But when I turn around, suit on, Jess is already in her bikini, not even paying attention to me. I tell myself to get a grip. I put my T-shirt and shorts back on over my one-piece and we head out.

We spend the day on our towels, pushing our toes into the hot sand as we watch the waves. Jess rates the guys that walk by us and I say higher or lower. Usually I say higher. Jess tells me I should be more picky. But I doubt any of the guys we see would be interested in me. A few of them check out Jess, but their eyes pass right over me.

The first night, we walk down the pier and buy cheap jewelry. Jess wants to get a tattoo, but you have to be eighteen. The whole time we’re walking she keeps brushing up against me. The first few times, it surprises me and I flinch.

Jess isn’t Leah, I tell myself. She isn’t. Is it too much to ask to have a normal friend?

I’m starting to think there is no normal. Not for me.

That night in Jess’s room I spread my sleeping bag out on the floor.

“There’s room for you in here,” she says, patting the bed.

My body tenses.

No. Not another Leah.

I shake my head. Too confused to speak.

“Oh, phew. I was hoping you’d say no.” She laughs. “This bed is way too small.” She takes a folded quilt from the foot of her bed and arranges it under my sleeping bag. “At least let me give you some cushion. I’ll trade if you want.”

“No, that’s OK,” I say, giddy with relief. “I’m fine.”

The next night we walk out on the beach. We lie down next to each other on a blanket Jess brought and look up at the stars. A group of people have a bonfire party going down a ways, but we don’t join them. I watch the half-moon above us and listen to their music. Every few minutes there’s a collective laugh.

“School’s gonna suck with Web gone next fall,” Jess says.

“Yeah,” I agree.

“It sucked enough with him there last year. You two are, like, my only friends.”

I don’t answer at first. The two of them are plenty for me. So I say “Yeah” again.

She rolls over on her side to face me. “You used to have lots of friends in elementary school and stuff, though. Weren’t you and Leah Greene best friends or something? What ever happened to her, anyway?”

One of the bonfire people squeals and I hear splashing. I close my eyes and see myself with Leah and the other girls, thinking we’re so special. We were awful.

“She went to private school,” I say. I sit up and move to the edge of the blanket so I can push my feet into the sand. “After she left, the girls we hung out with kind of drifted apart.”

I don’t admit to her that they were never really my friends. It sounds so pathetic.

“Oh, yeah. Right,” Jess says. “Now I remember. She was really screwed up, wasn’t she? Didn’t she try to kill herself or something? I always wondered if that rumor was true. Was it?”

“I don’t know,” I say quietly.

She sits up and joins me at the edge of the blanket. She nudges me with her shoulder.

“I’m glad I got to know you, Laine. I always thought you were such a snob.” The side of her thigh touches the side of mine. “Now I know you were just weird.”

She elbows me.

I move away a little so our legs don’t touch.

“I was only kidding,” she says, moving closer again.

“I know,” I tell her. But I still don’t want her touching me. All this talk about Leah. If she could see me now, she’d probably think I was a total loser, hanging out with Jess. Or she’d tell me I was attracted to her. But I’m not. I don’t feel anything. Only scared.

I stand up and walk toward the water. I stop where the sand gets hard and let the ice-cold waves reach my toes. With each wave, my feet sink deeper into the sand. It reminds me of when Christi and I were younger and we pretended we were sinking into quicksand.

“You better pick up your legs, Laine!” Jess calls to me. “I’m not getting my feet wet to save you!”

But just then some guy runs by us and starts puking into the water. I turn and run back to our blanket. Jess and I pack our stuff and take off, giggling.

Jess walks me to the bus stop the next day. Before I get on the bus, she wraps her arms around me and squeezes me tightly. “I’ll miss you, Lainey,” she says in my ear. Her breath is warm and wet and familiar.

I jump back.

She looks confused. “Have a safe trip.”

What just happened?

“Thanks,” I say, trying to sound normal. “For everything. I had a great time.”

I heave my backpack up over my shoulder and climb onto the bus. From my window, I watch her standing on the curb. She waves and holds her hands up, pretending she’s typing. “Send me a message,” she mouths.

All the way home, I feel her breath in my ear.

When we first met, Leah asked me if I knew what forever really meant.

“Of course,” I told her. But I didn’t.