After Summer (5 page)

“Oh.” Kelsi blinked.

“It’s okay, though,” Taryn went on. “Only you know what’s good for you, and you should run with that.”

Kelsi was still stuck on the
not even sure I’m straight
part.

“But…but I thought you said something about your last
boyfriend
?” Kelsi asked, confused.

“My last relationship was with a guy, yes,” Taryn said with a shrug. She looked as indifferent as if she’d announced a preference for humid weather as opposed to dry. “But I’ve kissed girls. I don’t really rule anything out.”

“Huh.” Kelsi tried to process this new information.

The fact that Kelsi was so flummoxed by Taryn’s blasé announcement made her feel like an even
bigger
prude. Even Ella, as far as she knew, restricted her wildness to boys. How had she managed to find someone even more experienced than Ella?

Or was it just that nobody alive was as
inexperienced
as Kelsi?

AOL INSTANT MESSENGER

JAMIE_TUTTLE: LADIES! It has been too friggin’ long. What is UP? Did all of you get engaged to your respective boy-toys without telling me?

QUEENTUT18: I don’t know about the rest of you but I am mostly definitely NOT engaged to Tim. In fact, we’re kind of in a fight right now. Things are…weird.

PRINCESSELLA: Tell us more Kels. We need details in order to help. Every time I call u to talk u say ur studying and blow me off. Not very sisterly u know.

QUEENTUT18: That’s because I AM always studying. Argh.

JAMIE_TUTTLE: Ditto. Why did nobody warn me how much prep school would kick my ass? Kelsi, what’s this about T?

QUEENTUT18: It’s a long, sordid story. Maybe I’ll save it for Thanksgiving.

SWIMFAN: Thanksgiving! Can’t wait. Food! Girls! Gossip!

PRINCESSELLA: Bethy, there you are! I saw ur name but totally thought u’d fallen asleep on us.

SWIMFAN: Almost. 2 much swimming. No rest.

JAMIE_TUTTLE: Whoa. You’re in bad shape. How’s George?

SWIMFAN: Energetic. Any boys in prep school?

JAMIE_TUTTLE: Kinda. But not in a good way.

PRINCESSELLA: Ooh!!

JAMIE_TUTTLE: No, there’s this pompous I-was-born-with-a-trust-fund guy, Dex (think slicked-back brown hair, blue blazer, the works). He’s in EVERY. SINGLE. ONE. OF. MY. CLASSES and is always acting like he’s in competition with me. Yes, he’s smart—he was top of his class—but I’ve been getting better grades than him on some stuff, so he’s totally out to get me. Every time I raise my hand in class, he does, too, and then shoots me this LOOK. All grinning and twinkly eyed. And he’s always sneaking by me in the library and
peeking over my shoulder to see what I’m reading. UGH!

QUEENTUT18: Are you guys thinking what I’m thinking?

PRINCESSELLA: Most def.

SWIMFAN: Huh? What happened?

JAMIE_TUTTLE: What?! What are you guys talking about?

PRINCESSELLA: Hel-LO Jamie! The guy OBVIOUSLY has a crush on u. Boys don’t pay that much attention to girls unless they’re out to get them in OTHER ways!!

QUEENTUT18: And I’m just going to go out on a limb here and say that maybe you have a crush back…

JAMIE_TUTTLE: You guys, that is SO not true!! He DOESN’T like me, and I find him repulsive!! So arrogant. Totally not my type.

PRINCESSELLA: Mmm-huh.

QUEENTUT18: Did you know there’s a river in Egypt called DENIAL? (LOL to myself—lame, I know).

JAMIE_TUTTLE: Not speaking to any of you until Thanksgiving.

SWIMFAN: Wait, what are you guys talking about? I think I dozed off for a minute.

QUEENTUT18: Oh, Bethy. We love you.

The next day, Beth sat in public speaking, the only class she had with George. But she wasn’t looking at George today. Her chin was in her hands, and her eyelids were drooping shut. She’d stayed up extra-late last night, just so she could IM with her cousins. She’d missed them so much, and it was great to catch up. But she’d kept drifting off, mid-IM.Things in her life were so busy. She hated that her personal relationships were starting to suffer for it. There was too much to catch up on! Senior year—and especially swimming—was taking a serious toll.

One of the other students was standing in the front of the room, droning on about the last presidential election. It would have been controversial if it weren’t so boring, Beth thought idly. Beth sighed and wondered—not for the first time—if you really
could
use toothpicks to keep your eyes open.

George had his desk flush against Beth’s, so he could also have his thigh flush against hers beneath it. Beth knew he’d be upset if she moved away, so she stayed there, even though the last thing she felt like doing was anything George might construe as “action.” Every single inch of her body ached from swim practice. Even a game of footsie could be potentially crippling.

Beth knew she’d better learn to suck it up, because things were only going to get more hectic. The team had had an undefeated season so far, a record everyone was committed
to keeping. They would swim against their archrivals in the last meet during Thanksgiving week, and Beth was prepared to give it 110 percent. If she could just keep herself awake.

George leaned in even closer, his eyes squarely on the student standing in front of them, and surreptiously reached over to lightly brush his hand against Beth’s breast. Right there in class!

Beth stiffened and snuck a glance around to see if anyone else had noticed. Luckily, everyone else looked as sleepy and bored as she felt, including Ms. Baransky, who was teaching.

“Sign me up for the Red Sox!” George whispered, chortling a little when she glared at him. “I just stole second base!”

Beth gritted her teeth. “I’m punishing you,” she told him in a whisper, scooting her chair away. “Don’t touch me again for the rest of class. I’m serious!” she hissed when he reached out anyway.

Beth spent the rest of the period ignoring George, which was harder than it sounded, because George prided himself on being un-ignorable. He drew elaborate comic strips (very badly, Beth thought, but the art wasn’t really the point) that illustrated the ways Beth should forgive him, and then pushed his notebook at her. He fidgeted, because he knew that drove Beth crazy. He cleared his throat repeatedly and sneezed while saying words like “sorry”—even though
they had just watched
Bring It On
for about the eight-zillionth time last weekend and both agreed that the “Loser Sneeze” was completely lame.

When the bell rang, Beth turned to give George a cold glare—which she had to struggle to keep in place, because she wanted to laugh—and wasn’t at all surprised when he grinned back at her.

“You’re the most annoying person who ever lived,” Beth told him, stacking her books.

“I think you mean ‘quirky.’” George waggled his brows at her. “Or maybe ‘eccentric.’”

“Annoying,” Beth retorted.

“Thank God it’s finally a free period,” George said with a sigh as they headed for the door. “All this school is inhuman. That time I went to work in my dad’s office one summer, I discovered that adults waste
whole hours.
They wander around the office, they go to the bathroom every half hour, they have long lunches in between several short coffee breaks. Yet we have to be here, working, from eight to two forty-five every day. It’s completely unfair.”

Beth couldn’t help but laugh. He sounded so
personally
injured.

“My parents are always telling me these are the best years of my life,” she said, glancing at him. “God, I hope
that’s
not true.”

She had completely forgotten how annoying George had
been in class, because this was what she loved. The way they talked to each other. The teasing and silliness. They’d had that long before they’d even kissed for the first time.

Beth was remembering that first kiss, on the beach in the moonlight, when George slung his arm around her neck and pulled her in tight to kiss her in the here and now. It was a sweet, warm kiss, and made Beth smile when he pulled away.

“I have a plan,” George said. “I think we should take off right this minute for lunch. I’m wounded to the core that you forgot this, Bethy, but today’s our anniversary.”

Beth blinked at him. “No, it isn’t. Our anniversary was in August.”

George heaved a fake-dramatic sigh.

“Um, no,” he said. “Not
that
anniversary. The third anniversary of the first time you let me call you
Bethy
instead of Beth. I can’t believe you don’t remember.”

Beth smiled. “I don’t know
how
I could overlook such an important milestone.”

“I thought we could maybe head out to the woods, hang out in the backseat, see what happens…,” he continued. He let the words trail off suggestively.

Beth pulled away from him, her earlier annoyance returning tenfold. Along with her exhaustion.

“I told you I have to do all my math homework at lunch,” she said.

“I hate to point this out,” George replied with a grin. “But it’s right there in the name. It’s called
homework.
You’re supposed to do it at
home.
”

“And if I was ever home for more than five seconds, I would.” Beth sighed. “Please don’t argue with me, okay? I’m beat already.”

“I know you are,” George said. “It’s just—”

Beth knew she needed the whole lunch period to fight her way through the calculus problems, but George looked so sad, standing there against the lockers. She couldn’t bear it.

“It’s just what?” she asked in a softer voice.

“You’re always beat,” George said, ducking his head. She saw his mouth tighten. “Last night you kept falling asleep in the car—while we were in the middle of a conversation!”

“I know,” Beth said, trying to placate him with a hand on his arm. She shrugged when he didn’t respond. “My schedule’s crazy right now.”

“And everything’s a schedule!” George looked up again. “It’s like you only want to hang out in between the things that are
actually
important to you, but then you’re so tired out I’m basically just your chauffeur.”

“George, that’s complete bullshit and you know it!” Beth was stung.

“Well, that’s how it feels,” George said stubbornly. “You complain that you’re so exhausted that you can’t hang out or
even, you know, fool around, but you manage to get peppy enough for your
swimming practices.
”

“I have math homework,” she snapped at him after a minute, when she was sure she could speak without yelling, and stalked off toward the cafeteria, too pissed to look back and see how he’d reacted.

Beth fumed for the rest of the day.

Just a few weeks ago, George had been Mr. Supportive. He’d
helped
Beth out when she was stressed instead of going out of his way to
add
to it.

It occurred to Beth—in a flash of guilt—that maybe George was pulling away because of
her.
After all, he’d been supportive during the summer and what had she done? She’d hooked up with Adam.

But she’d apologized. Again and again. What else she was supposed to do?

Beth sat in her last class of the day, mulling it all over. It wasn’t George’s fault that the swim coaches were so demanding, and that Beth felt this overwhelming urge to somehow impress them by not buckling under their demands. George didn’t do athletics, so sometimes it was hard to explain to him that sports teams were like these weird, aggressive families that Beth felt deeply loyal to.

She wished she could explain these things to George, but lately he’d been even more hyper than usual. Especially
about sex. Every time they started to have a normal conversation, George would start groping her. It was like he kept trying to squeeze in all this extra sex time because they didn’t see each other as much. And Beth and George had been each other’s first times, so Beth figured that, like most boys who made the leap from virgin to non-virgin, George was all about celebrating his new status. She could understand that—she even loved it—most of the time.

She was thinking about that as she headed for her locker after the final bell. She wasn’t surprised to see George already there, waiting for her. He leaned back against the locker door and fiddled with his cell phone. Beth watched him as she walked closer. She loved him so much. She’d loved him for so long. Beth swallowed hard.

“I’m a jerk,” George said when she came to a stop in front of him. The look on his face was almost bashful. “My picture’s in the dictionary. You can look it up, if you want. George is spelled J-E-R-K, in case you didn’t know.”

Beth laughed, despite everything. He could always make her laugh.

“I have an idea,” she said, before she could second-guess herself. “I think we should take advantage of your parents being at a dinner party tonight. To celebrate our very important anniversary. What do you think?”

“I think you have swim practice,” George said, but his eyes were suddenly a lot brighter.

Beth forced out a few fake sneezes. “What would you say if I told you I was too sick for practice, and the doctor prescribed some quality time with my boyfriend?” Beth asked, tugging at his sleeve.