Between Us and the Moon - Rebecca Maizel Page 0,84
the Nauset marshlands, but across the bay, the ocean waves crash onto the outer beach, Nauset Beach. All I can do is stay focused. Tell him the truth and don’t chicken out. I’d been practicing in the mirror for the last day or so but could never look in my eyes when I said the words aloud.
“You know,” Andrew says, taking his place next to me, “you can drive from the outer beach almost all the way out there.” Andrew points to the farthest tip of sand.
“Where we were for our first date?”
“That’s a lot farther but the same basic idea,” he says and gestures to the path that leads down into the Fort Hill boardwalk. He takes my hand. “Ready?”
“Steady” is on the tip of my tongue, but it feels so silly now. I can’t believe that was a “thing” Tucker and I ever said to one another.
We walk out of the marshlands and onto the boardwalk that leads through the forest. The sunlight fades the deeper we get into the woods.
“Wow,” he says, ducking under a massive tree trunk that arches six feet above the boardwalk. “You’d never know the beach was behind us.”
I inhale the familiar, earthy smell of the moss and bark of the red cedar trees. I just need the right moment or a logical transition. Everything in my body feels tight, from my forearms to my jaw. The pressure to tell him is hardening my muscles. This cannot be good for me.
“So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Andrew says. “You hardly said anything in the car.”
“I’m sorry. Here it is. It’s just, my aunt, the one we stay with every summer? She wants me to be just like my sister.”
Do it. Say it. Say it. Just say, like my sister, Scarl—
He has that look again, that concerned, “I am here for you” look and I want to scream.
His expression eats away my words.
“My sister has a lot of different interests and I guess I’m more . . .” I search for the word. “One-note,” I say.
I can barely stop myself from cradling my head in my hands as I walk.
“You’re not that way at all,” Andrew says and takes a hold of my hand. “You’re the opposite of one-note.”
“My sister spends all this time with my aunt during the year. And they can talk to each other, really talk, you know? My aunt doesn’t know how to talk to me. She thinks I need to be the same as I was before. . . .”
“Wait, Scarlett! Wait for me!”
Scarlett runs ahead, follows the curve of the boardwalk, and disappears around a bend. Her laughter curls into the air.
“Beanie, look at this tree,” Dad says. He stops and Mom follows after Scarlett. Dad touches an ancient limb of a tree. The moss is soft and I run my fingertips over it again and again. “Feather flat moss,” Dad says. “It means the forest is old.”
Dad holds on to my hand as we keep walking. We finally catch up to Scarlett and Mom. Scarlett pirouettes and leaps down the boardwalk.
“You try it!” Scarlett calls to me, and I try to jump too. I don’t land as quietly as she can. Our laughter ripples into the air.
I refocus on the boardwalk. Andrew walks quietly by my side. He doesn’t press me to talk. That’s a nice change from Tucker, who always told me how I was feeling before I had the words to articulate it.
We’re not far from Dad’s tree; it’s right up ahead. I recognize it from the specific twist of the gnarled branches. This one has a massive branch that arches overhead too. It’s much higher than the last one and only the tips of Andrew’s fingers can graze the bark.
I stop at the tree and run my fingers over the green moss. Andrew steps behind me and kisses the nape of my neck. Chills rush over me. I’m going to try again.
“My sister is the perfect one,” I say. “She’s older than me.”
“How old?”
“Closer to your age.”
Tell him. Tell him now. Frustration gnaws at me. Maybe I can hint at it now and then really explain it to him the night of the party. That way he won’t have time to talk to his friends about me and find out about my age. I can contain this a little if I parse out the truth over time. My back aches from holding my breath.