The Sweetness of Salt(11)

Sophie inhaled deeply and then took another sip of water. The heavy clink of silver against Mom’s good china echoed throughout the room. Dad chewed violently, the sides of his jaw flexing in and out, while Mom ate in small rabbit bites. I speared a wilted piece of lettuce and snuck a look at Sophie, who was busy twirling another forkful of pasta. “I hate you,” I thought to myself. “You ruin everything.”

Suddenly Sophie set her fork down on the side of her plate. “You know what? This is going to be my last visit to Silver Springs.”

“Sophie.” Dad’s voice had assumed the exhausted-impatient tone reserved strictly for her. “Please. Don’t start.”

Sophie held up her hands, palms out, as if surrendering. “I am not starting anything. On the contrary, Dad, I guess I’m ending something.”

“What?” Dad’s lips had begun to twitch. “What are you ending?”

“This.” Sophie encompassed the table, the living room, the entire house with a swoop of her wide-open arms. “All of this. It’s a lie. And you know it’s a lie. Until you tell her the truth about what really happened in Milford all those years ago…”

Three hours. It had only taken her three hours to bring up Milford. If there was one thing I could say about my big sister, it was this: she did not disappoint. Not when it came to Milford.

“Sophie, come on!” I said. “I already know what happened—”

Sophie cut me off with a stab of her index finger. Her eyes were still boring down on Mom and Dad. “And I’m talking about the stuff she doesn’t know about…”

“Can you stop?” Mom begged. “Please, Sophie. You’re ruining Julia’s whole celebration.”

Sophie stared at Mom. “When are you going to stop living on another planet?” She shifted her eyes toward Dad. “And you…what alternate universe have you settled down in? When are the two of you going to stop pretending like everything is so perfect in this family, and start…”

“God Almighty!” Dad cut Sophie off, throwing his napkin on top of his plate. “I cannot believe you’re seriously thinking of getting into all of this right now.”

“Yes,” Mom said. “Please stop it. You really are being selfish.”

Sophie looked down at the word “selfish.” She began to work her lower lip with her teeth.

Dad’s teeth were clenched. “You want to talk about Milford, we’ll talk about it. But there is no need to do it right now. Right now, we are celebrating Julia’s graduation and…”

Zoe’s signature three-beep alert came blaring from the street. I stood up hurriedly, gratefully, and pushed back my chair. “That’s my ride. I have to go.”

I practically ran for the door, taking my first real breath as I pushed it open.

“Ten o’clock, Julia!” Dad’s voice followed me. “No later than ten!”

The door slammed behind me, loud as a gunshot.





chapter


7


I had already decided, while running out of the house, that if Milo was not in the car, I wouldn’t go with Zoe to the party. I just didn’t have it in me tonight. But there he was in the passenger side, one elbow resting on the window. Just like always.

“Hey, guys!” I tried to sound excited as I got in the backseat, as if I had not just left a train wreck behind me. Milo nodded at me. He looked weirdly handsome in a white button-down shirt and pair of green swim trunks dotted with red lobsters. Only someone like Milo could pull off an outfit like that. He’d slicked his hair back too, and I could make out the faint scent of soap as he leaned his arms over the top of his seat.

“You guys ready to party?” Zoe had done her eyes up in some kind of glittery purple eyeliner. Her own outfit was a study in dichotomy: black leggings paired with a hip-length T-shirt that said I LIKE CATS; I JUST CAN’T EAT A WHOLE ONE BY MYSELF, and a bright red pair of cowboy boots.

“Chill, rock star,” Milo said. “And keep your hands on the wheel.”

“Oh, you’re such a fart,” Zoe said. “Relax.”

“I’ll relax when you get us there without getting into an accident.”

Milo turned and looked out the window. He stayed that way too, as Zoe yammered on about the party, not so much as even turning his head in my direction for the entire trip. It was as if the whole conversation we’d had after graduation had never even happened.

Like we were strangers all over again.



Melissa’s backyard looked like something out of MTV’s Spring Break. Dark purple material had been draped canopy style over the pool umbrellas, while disco balls, spinning tiny coins of light, swayed lightly underneath. A rap album blared from the outdoor speakers, and tiki torches, standing well over seven feet, blazed against the lengthening shadows. Then there was the food. Aside from the usual pretzels and chips, there were two tables filled with platters of triangular pita toasts, seeded crackers, bowls of strangely hued dip, and small phyllo-dough pockets. Whole sides of ribs were buried deep inside a charcoal pit across the yard, and pieces of chicken sputtered and sizzled on a large silver grill on the patio.

Off to the right was a kidney-shaped pool, complete with a diving board and circular steps. It was filled to capacity with students from Silver Springs High, including Melissa, who was sitting like a queen on the top step, surveying her subjects, and Cheryl, who was sitting in a lawn chair next to a few other girls.