Summer's End Page 4

  He leans his head down and whispers through my hair, “Ready, surfer-girl?” His voice is warm, soft, and low like it was earlier at the pool when he was calling me to the fence. It sends a shiver down my neck and along my spine.

  A slight breeze in my face keeps me from hyperventilating at this point. I can still feel him breathing in my hair. Panic starts to well up in my chest. Looking through the windshield for Tobi, my eyes plead for help as Lane starts the count for go. Tobi's response to my unspoken plea, with dash lights bouncing off her nose and mouth, is two thumbs up, mouthing the words, “Okay.”

  “Go!” fills the air, and Tobi presses on the gas. I whip my head around, looking forward where the headlights meet the road, trying to concentrate on keeping my balance, feeling the wave of the road through the movement of the Jeep. The wind increases against my face—acceleration. Lane shouts to even the speed; at least he keeps his mind where velocity is concerned. The speed blows my hair back, knotting the ends. After the initial shock of Lane's whisper, I feel at ease surfing with him holding me. I close my eyes and let the smell of cut hay lighten my thoughts. I wonder if surfing waves in the ocean feels anything like this.

  Five years from now, I could be standing on a warm sunny beach with the wind in my hair and my guy holding me exactly like this. Maybe, when we're both in college, maybe Lane would want to spend Spring Break with me in Florida. I can picture him shaking his hair walking toward me from the ocean as I sit on the beach, waves crashing into him. Warmth fills me at the thought. He flashes those dimples I love. I bat my eyes open and shake that image out of my head trying to get my bearings.

  I notice the deceleration and look in the windshield at Tobi, questioning her with a look. I'm not ready to stop. Her finger points out the windshield ahead of us. We're nearing Lane's house, which means our surfing for the night has come to an end.

  I'm not sure what just happened—what is happening—on top of the hood. I start to pull away to jump off, but Lane doesn't let go. Without turning around to look at him I put my hands on top of his, still grasping my waist, to push them off. He holds on and mutters, “Wait,” then moves past me, leaping off the hood and quickly turns to face me with his arms up. He wants me to grab his hands so he can help me down.

  I cock my head to the side. “I can get down myself, Lane.” He doesn't waiver. I cross my arms and shift my weight to one leg. “I'm not a little girl.”

  Tobi bolts out of the front seat of the car and hops into the back seat. He refuses to put his arms down and grabs me before I jump. “I can see that,” he says, and flashes a wry smile. My eyes narrow, and I purse my lips. “Even in the dark,” he utters low and quiet. I let him help me down so we can get in the car without an argument. Hurriedly, I get behind the wheel and slam my door shut.

  “Mm-hm,” Tobi sounds, from the backseat. I ignore her.

  We wait for Lane to saunter around the car and slide in. I take off without a word. “That was great!” Tobi starts, handing Lane his shoes. “I think surfing did the trick for you tonight, Lane. You perked right up.” She's pleased with herself.

  He turns in his seat, smiling first at me, and then Tobi. “Yeah. That's probably the best time I've ever had surfing. Your giggling and expressions made me laugh so hard I could hardly see the road when I was driving.” He sounds more like my best friend than the guy who's been acting a little weird lately.

  “No wonder I was scared to death while you were driving.” He shoves my arm, and Tobi giggles. We turn up Lane's drive talking about our mad skills as surfers.

  Lane's driveway is lined with trees, more like a wooded area, and sits off the road quite a bit.

  “What's on the agenda for the rest of the week?” Tobi asks Lane when I stop at the garage.

  “I'm working every day this week. I might play ball a couple nights.”

  “How are you getting to work tomorrow with your truck in the shop?” I question.

  “Mom's going to drop me. She's taking my sisters to the dentist or something.” The porch light turns on. “That's my cue.” I can tell he's not ready to get out. “Thanks for the ride.” His eyes sparkle with the light from the dash. He turns to Tobi, “And thanks for the surfing,” he says, with a little laugh. “It did perk me right up.”

  I can't tell what expression he has on his face, but Tobi giggles, and announces, “It's my duty to bring life to the party of my good friends.”

  Lingering, revealing his dimples, Lane slowly turns his back to me and gets out. He takes off his cap, bows and says, “Goodnight, ladies.” There he is again. There's my best friend. The weight on my shoulders falls off as soon as my best friend acts like his old self again. He watches and waves as we back the Jeep and roll down his drive. I wish he would stay present and not lose himself to whatever—whoever is taking his place.

  Tobi crawls over the console into the passenger seat. I crank up the radio. It only takes a few minutes to wind through the oil lease roads to my house. We pull into my drive and park in the shed. Mom's at the kitchen table reading when we walk through the door.

  “Well, hello, Tobi.” Mom's a little surprised to see her.

  “Hi, Sarah, how are you? I hope you don't mind me staying over tonight.” Tobi gives her a hug.

  “Of course, not. I'm glad to see you. It's been too long since you've been over.”

  “Mom, I think we're going to sleep out in the gazebo tonight. The sky's clear and the stars are bright.” I hang the keys up on the hook by the door. “Tell Dad not to wake me up in the morning, please. I'll probably hear him leave anyway.”

  “I'll tell him.”

  “Night, Mom, love you.” I stop and give her a hug.

  “Goodnight, sweetie. I love you, too.” She tilts her head and raises her eyebrows. “No visitors and no leaving the yard.”

  “No problem. Come on, Tobi, let's get the stuff together.”

  “Goodnight, Tobi,” my mom calls.

  “Night,” she softly answers over her shoulder, as she follows me to my room. “Thanks again for letting me stay.”

  I pull out some old gray cotton shorts and a ratty old black T-shirt with cut-off sleeves and throw them to Tobi. She knows my house well and where we keep the extra toothbrushes and things in the bathroom. I get my PJs on, get the sleeping bags off the top shelf of my closet, and pull two pillows from my bed. We load all the stuff in our arms and quietly walk out to the gazebo.

  The gazebo is a great place to be on a cloudless, breezy, summer night. It's situated in an area where there are no tree limbs overhead. It's framed out from top to bottom, complete with a screen door. Dad bought screening by the roll to use for the walls and under the floor. It helps keep critters, bugs, and mosquitoes out.

  We find our way to the middle and dump everything on the floor. A crescent waxing moon provides some light, tonight. I switch the lantern on so we can get settled.

  “I'm getting tired,” I utter through a yawn as I turn off the lantern and set it on the floor. “Hey, I spent the day wrapped up in that Cousteau book I bought online from your house.” Another yawn.

  “Oh, yeah, the one you ordered a couple weeks ago. It's good, huh?” Tobi yawns, too. She sits down.

  “I haven't read much of the text, mostly the captions of the pictures. The photography is so amazing, better than my imagination.” I sit down and sigh. “I'm exhausted. So much has happened in the last two days.”

  Tobi flops back on her pillow, arms stretched above her head, twirling her long, blonde hair. “I know. I checked fence this morning and moved cows to a different pasture early this afternoon. The only thing I had time to eat for lunch was a protein bar and a bottle of water.”

  “You know you're impressive, right? I mean you work like crazy.” Tobi doesn't put work in categories of boys' work or girls' work, and neither does her dad. If it needs to be done, her dad expects her to figure out a way to make it happen.

  “The quicker I get the work done, the quicker I get to go play,” she mimics her d
ad's voice.

  I laugh at her and then twist my hair up in a knot on top my head and lay back on the sleeping bag.

  Tobi twists to her side. She furrows her brow and frowns. “Now that you've gotten over the shock, were those pictures Stacey showed you really that bad? I mean, how could they be? You and Cameron weren't up there by yourselves for more than five minutes before you jumped.”

  “Without looking at them again—yes, they were that bad. It looked like we were the only ones there, and that we were into each other. I mean really into each other.” Stay calm, Regan. Don't get yourself get worked up again.

  “Whoever took the pictures must have some camera,” she says, thoughtfully, considering something. “Or, hmm …” She gasps and sits up. “They took a video and captured stills from it!”

  “I never even thought about that. Who would spend so much time doing something like that to Cameron and me?” I don't go around trying to make enemies, but there’s one person I thought of who's spiteful enough to do it.

  Tobi and I growl at the same time, “Stacey!”

  “It seems there no lengths to which that girl won't go. I guess I shouldn't be surprised. I mean look how she drug Susanna through the gutter. It's like she lays off me for a while, and just as I think she's matured, she starts again.”

  “We need to find out who was in that truck—if we really care enough about this to find out who took the video. My guess is that Stacey is (at the very least) the one who had the idea to capture the stills,” Tobi rattles off quickly.

  “Stacey didn't act like she had any gossip or news brewing about me when I went to work. It was only after work she brought anything up.” I recall my evening at work. “Whatever I do is only going to make it worse for Susanna. Cameron's right, for once. Only the five of us hold the opinion that matters. We have nothing to hide or be ashamed of.” Saying it out loud is a bit freeing.

  “Lane seemed a little upset about it.” Her half-statement, half-question begs a reply from me.

  “I'm still upset over yesterday.” I glance at Tobi to see she's still fiddling with her hair. “Is that how you guys really think of me? Childish—a dreamer?” I try not to allow too much emotion to taint my voice. I want her to be honest without worrying that I'm this upset.

  “Childish? A dreamer? Where’d you get that idea? No one thinks you, of all people, are childish,” Tobi insists in her blunt, yet respectful way.

  “Mainly Cameron. He said holding on to dreams is irresponsible, that he had to put childish ways behind him. And Lane said something like that, too.” I replay the words that are still hurtful. “Lane clearly insinuated it applies to me as well. How’d he put it? We can have our dreams until a certain age, and then it's time to put childish ways behind us … something like that.” I trail off, continuing to remember his words.

  Tobi hurries to intercede, “I don't think they were insinuating you, they—”

  I cut her off. “Cameron basically said I'm a dreamer. That dreams are for children. Do you recall that?” I try to control my voice but the emotion comes out raw. “I'm not trying to force you to shirk your responsibilities.”

  “Maybe we're caught in-between our dream and reality,” Tobi admits with remorse and sadness in her voice. “Maybe they took a little frustration out on you.” She breathes in deep and blows it out. “Maybe we need your support, Regan. God almighty knows we get enough life lectures from our parents. This is why we hang with our friends, right? It's a—a kind of escape.”

  “I do understand the struggle. Really, I do. I don't want any of you to give up. I'm afraid if you give up—I'm next.” This is what I've been carrying around but never quite understood until now. Almost frantic, what I've been holding in comes out, “I'm scared, Tobi. I'm scared to death that if you and Lane and Cameron all fold on your plans, your dreams for your future, that I will, too, and I can't handle staying in this gossip-infested town. The negativity is already such a weight—I'll never be able to be happy here. There's too much to fight.”

  Tobi rolls to her stomach, pulling herself up on her elbows. “Regan, look at me,” she orders, calm and commanding. I sit up and face her. “You're not us. You will make it out of here. There's something great waiting for you in this big world.”

  I pull my legs to my chest and hold on for dear life. “How can it be waiting for me and not the rest of you? How will I be able to go on without you?” Tears are welling up and spilling over. Tobi moves to my side. She puts her arms around me and leans her head against mine.

  “Some people have a certain something, a drive that pushes them to pursue their dream. You have that, Regan. It's constantly revealing itself.”

  Sniffing, I wipe my tears. “What are you talking about?”

  She says slowly, “Stubborn—obstinate—bullheaded–-strong minded, you've heard people call you those things. Right?”

  Tentatively I answer, “Yes.”

  “These things are part of that certain something. You don't quit or give up. You push through difficulties. You keep going. People use these words to describe you because it's true, and it's also what's going to get you out this one-horse town. And though Stacey trashes you a lot, she knows this about you and uses gossip and Susanna to try to manipulate you. She's intimidated by you.”

  I laugh through my tears. “I don't think Stacey's scared of me.”

  “You are a threat to her, Regan. You're smart, and she doesn't like that you’re her competition to be the top of the class. And she doesn't like that you won't bow down to her.”

  “I feel like I cower to her all the time. I'd like to rip her head off, but I keep my mouth shut.”

  “Well, you don't play her game. So, she keeps dishing it out. Forget about Stacey. You'll be gone in a couple years. It won't be easy. What's that saying, nothing good comes easy? But if you don't follow heart—your dream, the Regan I know and love will shrivel up. You'll be someone else, someone that Lane or I won't recognize. You'll become a bitter old woman who constantly looks back at her life wondering, ‘What if.’”

  “Dang.” I sniff. “That was deep, Tobi.” I wipe my tears again. “But what about your dreams of being a medical researcher? You're worth reaching for it, you're smart enough, and you’re strong and tough and gutsy.” I pour out the truth to her.

  She lowers her arms to rest her hands in her lap and pushes back her cuticles. “I don't know, Regan. I really am still considering it, but—don't get mad at me for this or judge me, okay?”

  I change position and fold my legs under me to get a better look at her. “Okay, no judging. But what?”

  Crickets and frogs sing in the background, but all I hear is the silent long pause in our conversation. “I'm not sure I really want it. I mean, I like the idea of it. It's sort of a romantic notion, I suppose, but—” she sighs. She hasn't looked up at me like she's avoiding me in some way. “I'm not certain I want to study neuroscience enough to give up what I could’ve here with the farm, my family, and everything.”

  Wow. I did not expect that. “Really?” Does she feel like she can't talk to me about this? “I wasn't expecting that it might not really be what you want.” I look down and consider what this may mean. A few moments pass. “This is brave, Tobi—and I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I haven't been the friend you've needed. I'm sorry I've expected you to feel the same way about getting out of here as I do.” I put my feet on the floor and hug her tight. “I'm really sorry I shed these tears.” Does Cameron feel that way? What if Lane stays here, too?

  “You are such a chick.” She pushes her shoulder against mine and playfully shoves me. “Brave? What's brave about me wavering?”

  “Honesty can be scary. Admitting you aren't sure because it may be a romantic idea takes guts. It means you aren't really succumbing to the life-suckers of this town, but you’re really thinking about it. You don't get enough credit for your profoundness.”

  “Profound, huh?” she giggles. “That's a new one. I don't think I've ever been called that before
.” She always knows how to lighten the atmosphere. “All right. I think I have more profoundness to reveal to you.” She giggles some more as she lies back down on her belly atop her sleeping bag and looks at me.

  I mimic her sarcastic tone, “Reveal your profoundness.” I'm anxious to hear what goof-ball revelation she has.

  Her eyes are bright, even in the shadows of the night, accompanies by a beautiful and wicked smile. “I believe there’s some unsuspecting chemistry within the group.”

  My brows narrow. “Chemistry?”

  “Chemistry. You know, physical attraction. Hello?” She mocks my naivety.

  “Ohhh. Yeah, I know.” I stop her in her tracks. “Rule number one, Tobi.” I remind her of our rules of friendship and how much I dislike gossip.

  “How can it be gossip if I'm talking about you to you?” She cocks her head to the side.

  I jaunt my head back a bit. “Me? You're not going to start up about those stupid pictures.” I've had enough of Stacey's gossip for the day—for the year—for my entire life.

  “Regan, are you going to look me in the eyes and lie? Are you going to tell me you don't know what I'm talking about?” She narrows her eyes and pushes out her pouty lips.

  With a slight shake of my head, I narrow my eyes right back at her. “I don't have the slightest idea of what you’re talking about. And can tell from your tone, I'm not going to like it.”

  She leans up on her elbows and I tense up, unsure of what she's about to say. “If you don't have any idea what I'm talking about, let me put it to you this way . . .” She pauses for dramatic effect and gives a long sigh as if she's just read the most romantic, sigh worthy passage. “It's becoming clear to me that Lane is either developing or, more likely, already has an affinity for you.” She studies me, waiting for my reaction.

  My muscles relax. “Of course, he likes me; he's my best friend. I thought you had some crazy story you were going to tell me. Maybe I should take back my profoundness comment until you can come up with something better than that,” I chide her imagination and then flip over and lie on my back to look through the screen for any stars that can be seen.