way the muscles of his arms and his shoulders tense. In a second the limb gives way and goes falling toward the earth.
I can’t help but stand, feet planted on the ground on either side of the bike, and watch him, the way he’s completely lost in the work. He looks peaceful and happy. So happy that I don’t call out to him, because I don’t want to disturb him or bring him out of it. I want him to stay right where he is.
* * *
—
I eat an early dinner at Addy’s so that I can meet Miah for a sunset dune walk, which means we wander the canyons and hollows of this other world between the dunes. When the path narrows, I fall behind him, watching the way the gold of the dying sun catches his hair and skin and holds it.
I’m pretending we’re actually in another world when he says, “I want to spend the night with you. The entire night, start to finish. You in my bed. I want to wake up next to you and see what that hair looks like in the morning. And I have other questions, like are those real freckles or do you paint them on? And how loud do you snore?”
“First of all, the freckles are real. You should know by now that they don’t come off. Two, I don’t snore. Three, my mom will never go for it.”
“So I’ll stay with you.”
“I don’t think she’d like that, either.”
“Why don’t you invite me over and we’ll see what happens from there?”
DAY 18
The first and only party I’ve ever thrown was in seventh grade. Saz and I spent days making the decorations and invitations and creating a Twister-size board game that combined Seven Minutes in the Closet and Spin the Bottle and Never Have I Ever all in one, guaranteeing we would get to, at the very least, second base. We invited everyone in our class and spent the entire night watching my crush (Zachary Dunn) and her crush (Harriet Loos) making out in a corner.
I find Jared in the kitchen at the inn, at the sink, washing and drying dishes.
“I’m having people over tomorrow night and I want you to come.”
“Just tell me what time. I can bring drinks.”
“My mom’ll be there, so I’m not exactly sure how much drinking there’s going to be.”
“Sodas, then, and maybe I can liberate some dessert.”
Wednesday appears, dumping more dirty plates into the sink. “ ‘People’ as in Jared, me, you, and Miah?”
“And Emory.”
I catch a whiff of something—weed, maybe. And then I feel this little rush of air on my skin as Grady goes walking past. “I can’t wait,” he says.
“Great.” Even though I wasn’t planning to invite him. “And Grady, apparently.”
Wednesday looks at Jared. “He’d be hotter if he didn’t try so hard.”
Jared says to me, “We’ll be there.”
* * *
—
Just after six, my mom finds me as I forage in the kitchen, taking inventory of what snacks we have and whether I need to order anything from the mainland for the party. She starts helping, holding up a bag of chips. I nod. She holds up almonds. I shake my head. We do this for a while, a perfectly orchestrated dance we’ve done since I was little.
She clears her throat. “So. Jeremiah.”
“Jeremiah. Sometimes known as Miah. But never as J.Crew.”
“Good to know. You’re seeing him a lot.”
“You told me not to mope around the house.”
“I don’t think I used the word mope, but it’s good to see you getting out of the window seat.”
I open a soda. Pour her some. Drink out of the can. Wait for what she’s going to say next.
“It’s been a long time since we had the talk.”
And there it is. “I remember it. We’re all good here.” Fifth grade. My mom came to my room and sat down on my bed and answered every question I had about sex. The next day she gave me a copy of Our Bodies, Ourselves, and I learned to masturbate. I did it almost every day for all of fifth grade, like this miraculous secret hobby that only I knew about. I used my hand, my electric toothbrush, my stuffed animals, anything I could rub up against. My stuffed animals developed crooked necks from all the rubbing.
She says now, “I’m not going to ask, but you know I’m here for you. And please just tell me you’re being safe.”
“If anything was happening, I’m being safe. I’m not stupid.”