and isn’t the tanning type. The stripe of white sunblock down the bridge of her nose has the look of a landing strip. “There’s a lot of disagreement about where that word came from. Pussy is actually a diminutive of pusillanimous, meaning cowardly. Although maybe the origin doesn’t matter, since everyone equates it with the female anatomy anyway?”
Becca rocks back, barely able to say through her giggles, “Puss-a-what-a-lis? Are you speaking Snuffleupagus?”
Willa gives a perplexed shake of her head before continuing, “And why wouldn’t girls be able to do everything guys can?” I know she’s forcing herself not to make a fist at Carolynn—she considers Becca too easy a mark.
Carolynn groans and rolls her head until she’s looking at Willa. “They’re different. I like mani-pedis, and Rusty”—she points a pink nail at him—“likes jerking off.” Willa snorts. The boys whoop. I don’t know how it started, but the core is always joking about how much Rusty Harper loves himself. What would have made other guys outcasts made Rusty a comic hero. He plays right along. He even had RUSTY PIPE printed on his baseball uniform.
The core’s like that. They defy gravity.
Carolynn eyes Willa like she’s a bumbling foreigner clueless about basic customs. “I repeat: boys and girls are different,” she states slowly, matter-of-factly. In this country we drive on the right side of the road.
Cue a din of pervy comments from the boys as Willa pops up on her knees, hands on her hips, her tone full of bravado. “What do you want to bet that not only will Lana jump, she’ll dive?”
Like it’s been choreographed, everyone’s faces snap in my direction. They don’t have a clue about the times I came here as a kid because before, Willa and I didn’t lunch in the same solar system as these kids, let alone spend half the summer setting off fireworks at Shell Shores with the radioactive core of Gant High. Why radioactive? Because these six hold the power to make others treat you as the deformed victim of nuclear fallout or a superhuman with clear skin and flawless hair.
Willa and I were sipping iced mochas at Marmalade’s Café a month ago when Josh invited us to play pool. Josh was all tumbling laughter and easy smiles, and after weeks of not being able to catch my breath, I could breathe near him. Before the first eight ball was sunk, Carolynn had called me Lena twice and shrugged once, purring, “Same difference,” when I corrected her—which was a lot nicer than when she emptied a flask on my dress at freshman homecoming. She was trying to scare me off; she didn’t bank on me sticking around for two more games or Josh driving me home afterward. I know Ben was the only reason Josh noticed us initially. Losing Ben cast a shine on me that I didn’t have as the weird little sister of “a popular.”
The corner of Carolynn’s mouth quirks up and she pets her poufy bun’s imaginary stray hairs, her gold and white bangles tinkling. She turns to Becca and says, “If she wants to jump, it’ll be her funeral.” Carolynn’s the only one of the five who likes to remind Willa and me that we’re not part of their us. We’re add-ons. As temporary as the season itself. Maybe the sun will keep shining through the autumn, or maybe Willa and I will be iced out when classes start.
Here’s a secret, though. Who cares? I never thought summers were boring before, and it’s only this year, the first without Ben, that I need a distraction. I need the core.
Becca’s green eyes turn up to me. “You sure it’s a good idea, Lan?” She points in the direction she thinks the sun is setting—south. “Can you even see to dive?”
“I can. No worries,” I call. I don’t agree with Willa when she says that Becca would miss sarcasm if it were an asteroid soaring straight at her. Becca just wants to think the best of her friends and refuses to see their scratchy edges. She lives down the street from me, and as a kid she’d come over to play while her parents fought. They were divorced by sixth grade and she stopped coming after. That’s when I learned that girls weren’t all automatically friends based on their shared girlness. Becca’s picked up with me like there’s no obvious gap in our friendship. Willa doesn’t understand how I’m not bitter over Becca ditching me back then. If Ben were