The Art of Losing(70)

Five Years Ago



We sat under an umbrella at a table near the snack bar, sitting next to each other so we could both be in the shade. My skin was dry from the chlorine, and my bathing suit was damp because I wouldn’t walk around without my towel covering me. The shouts of other kids in the pool rang in my ears.

Cassidy gave me one of her Reese’s Cups, cold from the snack bar freezer, and I poured half of my Coke into a cup for her.

“Who was working at the snack bar?” I asked. I had been saving our seats while she got the snacks, and now I craned my neck to see the snack bar behind her. Because I knew who was working. We both did.

Cassidy and I had spent the majority of the summer in these seats watching the same guy: Matthew Sanders. He wasn’t a lifeguard, not chiseled and tan from days in the sun. He was more attainable. Tall, thin, with glasses. When there wasn’t a line, he’d read behind the counter. And not summer reading books for school. Actual novels by authors I’d never heard of.

“He was there,” she said.

“How did he look?”

“So hot.” She grinned. “Go and get another cup or some napkins,” she said. “Tell him I said hi.”

I rolled my eyes, but only to hide my nerves as I stood and walked toward the snack bar. The condiment station was right next to the counter and I timed my arrival at the moment that he returned to the register with a customer’s soda.

“Can I have a cup, please?” I said, hating the way my voice sounded high and squeaky.

Matt smiled, said, “Sure,” and handed me a cup. I grabbed a stack of napkins, spun around, and walked as quickly as possible back to the table. I collapsed into a pile of giggles next to Cassidy, and she prodded me until I told her what had happened.

“He smiled at me!” I squealed, and her mouth dropped open jealously.

Neither of us had ever said more to him than giving our orders. But if we had, if he had ever liked either one of us, we would have had no idea what to do. Aside from my kiss with Raf years before, neither of us had any experience with boys.

But our crush on Matt brought us closer. We spent all day together, all summer, at a time when we were quickly becoming different people. When she was growing tired of hearing me talk about comics, and I was growing tired of hearing about her friends on the yearbook. We should have been growing apart, but Cassidy and I clung to each other, refusing to drift apart, like sleeping otters.

And we made it through high school without losing sight of each other. It was practically a miracle.





Chapter Seventeen



I texted Cassidy in the middle of the night, asking her to come by before her opening shift. She let herself into the house using the hide-a-key we kept on the porch and walked upstairs without waking anyone. I’d finally fallen asleep near dawn, so I only stirred when she slipped her shoes off and curled up next to me in bed, taking my hand under the comforter.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

My eyes were dry and cloudy from being awake late into the night. And now, they were blurry with tears, too.

“Neema told me something about that night of the accident,” I said. I tried not to breathe on her since I hadn’t brushed my teeth yet. My mouth tasted like I’d licked a dirty sandbox. “She told Audrey she loved her.”

Cassidy sat up. “Wait, really?” she asked.

“Do you think Audrey initiated what happened between her and Mike as a way to make it clear that she wasn’t interested in Neema?”

Cassidy shook her head slowly, sifting through the information. “It’s possible,” she said. “Would it be easier for you to forgive Audrey if that’s what happened?”

I sighed. “I don’t know. I thought I had forgiven her. But now . . .”

“I get it,” she said. “It was one thing when he kissed her, but knowing it was the other way around? That has to hurt.”

And it did. But I also felt myself understanding why she might have done it. Audrey knew nothing about relationships. She only knew grand romantic gestures like the ones she saw in the romantic comedies she watched. And she knew the massive mistakes the characters made that led to those big moments of reconciliation.

We were quiet for a minute, sitting side by side.

“So, knowing all of this,” Cassidy asked, “do you forgive Mike now?”

The heat that flared in my chest gave me my answer. “No,” I said, my voice cold. “I’m tired of trying to forgive him. I’ve spent years forgiving him, over and over again. Even if Audrey threw herself at him, how could he have cheated on me with her? She’s my sister. What kind of monster does that?”

“The insecure kind, I think,” Cassidy said. “I mean, it sounds like he had a really hard time being alone. Like he needed someone to constantly reassure him. And you weren’t doing that anymore.”

I knew she wasn’t blaming me, that she was trying to help, but I still felt guilty. God, I was so tired of feeling guilty.

“You know, he was always self-conscious about his weight.” I sighed. I hated talking about weight, even when it wasn’t my own. “I always assumed that was why he could overlook my flaws.”

Cassidy squeezed my hand, but she’d learned not to argue with me when I talked about things I hated about myself.