The Summer Remains (10 page)

I crossed my arms and turned away a little, like anyone whose mouth was about to deliver a message their balls couldn’t back up. “Okay, you’re talking cute, Cooper,” I said. “No doubt about that. But what you’re doing is speaking so loudly, I can’t hear it over what you’re saying.”

“What?”

I thought for a moment. We weren’t nineteen anymore. The time for bullshit was over. Life was now a game of musical chairs, and I was still standing. It was either wear your emotions on your sleeve, or watch the object of your affection go off and make a Facebook engagement album with some other girl. As far as love went, this wasn’t exactly my first chance, but it might have been my last chance. I know I was probably being too honest and revealing too much, but this diagnosis had blown me open, and everything I’d never been able to say or even think before was suddenly spilling out of my soul with reckless abandon. (Key word: reckless.)

“I love hanging out with you so far, obviously,” I said, “but, like, it also makes me feel really inferior. Because you’re…perfect. Almost
aggressively
so. And it’s almost, like, offensive to me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on. I have these, these
issues
,” I said.

“And?”

“And I have issues! That’s all I need to say!”

“So what? Everyone has issues. The key is finding someone whose issues mesh well with your issues.”

“But you don’t
have
any issues!” I said a little too loudly. “You’re, like, perfect, and your house is adorable, and you could charm a fire hydrant, and I don’t know why you like me, and-”

“What is it, Summer?” he interrupted. “What’s wrong?”

I pointed back at the bar. “Like tonight, when I got into that little thing with the doorman at the bar, you didn’t even notice, but-”

“Oh, I noticed,” he said as he looked away.

“You did?”

“Yeah, I did. I have no idea what kept me from breaking that guy’s face, but somehow I controlled myself. I guess I didn’t want to say anything and, like, attract any more attention to it, or whatever. For your sake, you know.”

“Oh,” I said. “Oh.”

“And you know what?” he asked. “I’m scarred, too. Why can’t you see that? Everyone is. We’re all wounded animals zombie-ing around the Earth with our arms out looking to find our way and make a connection. So what if your scar happens to be on the outside?”

“Because it matters, Cooper, and stop acting like it doesn’t,” I said, resisting his cuteness. “People are shallow selfish assholes, and looks matter, and unless you’re the Mayor of Underarockville, you know that.”

“You matter,” he said quietly. “You’re smart and pretty and funny and cool. I just wish you would see all that.”

I looked at him hard. The eye contact was awkward but I kept it going. “Okay,” I finally said, with a fake smirk. “I’m a hot, cool genius. I get it now.”

His face broke into a big, loopy smile that made me excited to be a human. “Don’t let your head get
too
big,” he laughed, “you’re not
that
smart. You
did
just jump off a pier into a dark ocean with a Spark guy, after all. Don’t push your luck, young lady.”

I frowned up at the stars, wondering just what they had in store for me this summer. “I already am.”

“What?” he asked, and I just shook my head at the sky.

This wasn’t fair. I knew I had to tell him about my surgery, and about Intresia, about all of it. But I couldn’t. I was already growing addicted to the version of myself I saw in his eyes, and I couldn’t turn away just yet. I was too weak and I knew it. Never in my life had someone looked past the scar, the feeding tube, the bitterness that came from a lifetime spent in hospital gowns, and just seen
me
, Summer Martin Johnson. Even the way he was looking at me right now just swam with some unquantifiable emotion that said:
I am fine with you. I like everything you already are.
Never in my life had I seen a look like that. Never.

Cooper reached over for my hand, and as my soul rioted within me, I let him take it. Simply put, he was a goner, and I was the executioner. Hook, line, and sinker: my lies were deadly, and he was done.

Because right then and there, for the first time in my life, I decided to tell my brain to shut the fuck up and let my heart take the wheel instead.

11

We hung out the next day. And the next. You get the picture. Caution had officially been thrown to the summer winds. On Wednesday we walked the pier again and watched an old man rant to a flock of seagulls about the cruel ways of the world, on Thursday we went to Rita’s Italian Ice and sat on a bench with an Orange Dream while I filled Cooper in on my work drama, and on Saturday he took me on a real, actual date, to a hokey but cute Mexican place near my town’s main strip of bars. He got food poisoning halfway through and had to go home and puke all night, but still, Summer Johnson was being taken on dates – that was a thing that was happening.
Score
!

Four days with Cooper faded into a week. The last of late spring was exploding into summer, and my depressed little town was off to the races. The sidewalks clogged with tourists, the restaurants and bars filled with local surfers trying to wash the ocean out of their mouths with cheeseburgers and craft beers, and the beaches overflowed with sunbathers trying to worship the ball of fire in the sky. Surprisingly I never got sick of Cooper or found anything wrong with him, like I’d usually done whenever I’d liked someone in the past, just to kill the relationship before it had the chance to kill me.
Hey, you just smiled at me and you’re cute and normal and in no way unacceptable in any discernible form – time to friendzone myself and/or run for my life!
I called it the 10/90 rule: you know how after you charge your phone, the first ten percent of your battery life is strong and glorious and it fades so slowly you think it’s gonna last forever, but then once it hits 89% it starts plummeting faster and faster and before you know it, you’re at two percent and you’re having an anxiety attack looking for a charger? That’s how my precious two flirtations had gone: spark, explode, and then slowly fizzle out. I’d notice the guys losing interest and then decide they were messy eaters, notice they were rude to waiters, whatever, and then push them away to keep them from eventually leaving me and breaking my heart. Then I’d curl back into myself to keep myself cold and alone and safe and sound.

But with Cooper I found this urge slowly falling away like an iceberg sliding into the sea. I liked him so much it terrified me, actually. We didn’t do anything, like,
physical
just yet, and it’s not like we hung out 24/7, either – we both maintained our separate lives – but it was good to have someone on my team. And soon I found myself sinking into his world like I’d only sunken into books. He was so interesting, and it was really nice to hangout with someone who was just so…cool. Shockingly, we never ran out of things to talk about. We spoke of life and food and health and Saviour and what scared us and what made us feel alive. We also talked about Funfetti cake. He knew so much about so many random topics, too. At the Mexican place that night, pre-vomit, I mentioned how my uncle lived in California, and Cooper looks up and goes “Did you know that if California broke away from the States and became its own country, it would have the fourth largest economy in the world?” I couldn’t stop giggling. I mean, who even
knew
things like that?

So, side note: during one of my mom’s more dramatic episodes a few years back, she claimed she’d gone colorblind and had demanded that I drive her to church, since she “wouldn’t be able to read the stop signs.” In reality she was fine and just didn’t really feel like driving that day, but I mention this because it was like Cooper was disability blind. He liked me. He seemed to really, actually like me. I was dumbfounded in the best way.

And speaking of Shelly: one evening Cooper accidentally met her while picking me up after work, which was nerve wracking for obvious reasons. I swore he was just a friend, but I could see the skepticism in her eyes. He literally could not have been sweeter, though. Shelly was a little icy and closed-up at first, as she always was around my guy friends, but Cooper wore her down quickly. By the end of the visit, she was shoving food down his throat and giving him even more to take home to his mother, whom Shelly demanded to meet and befriend ASAP. Since I didn’t want my quickly-evolving double life to get even more complicated, I rushed us out the door and bid her off. He was mine, at least for now.

~

One night towards mid-April I walked to the Ocean Avenue beach access after work to watch Cooper surf. Although it was a little boring to sit there on the beach and watch him bob up and down amongst all the other dots also bobbing up and down waiting for waves, I thought it was really cool that he had a “thing.” Most people didn’t have a “thing,” you know? And he was really good, by the way. When I got super bored I took out my iPad and halfway watched a seagull trying to pull out a crab that was burrowing into the sand. Even though the waves were getting closer, about to sweep the crab away, the bird stayed put and tried to get what it wanted. But I never saw if it was successful or not, because Cooper suddenly plopped down on the sand next to me.

“Looks like we might have to get out here soon,” he said, pointing at the gathering storm over our shoulders. I tensed up at having him so close to me – being next to him was still so hard sometimes – but I was trying.

“I wouldn’t mind the rain,” I said. “Actually, the beach when it’s raining is probably my favorite place in the world.”

He grimaced. “Really? Why?”

“I don’t know. Because it’s deserted, and nobody can see me.”

He thought for a second. I could tell he didn’t really know what to say.

“Gotcha. What were you writing?”

“Nothing,” I said as I hid my iPad under my shirt.

“No, really, what was it?”

“Um, this might sound weird,” I said, “but I know this girl named Kim who has spina bifida, and I heard she’s been really down lately because she’s single and stuff, and I was just writing her a Facebook message telling her that she looked pretty in her recent pictures, and that we should get together soon. But it wasn’t a charity message or anything – I genuinely do like her. She’s sweet.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised,” Cooper sighed. “You make me feel like shit just by being
you
.”

“
Welcome to my world
,” I said under my breath. “But anyway, what happened? Why’d you come in from surfing?”

“Got bored,” he said.

“Why? You’re, like, really good.”

“Thanks, but I hate it.”

“Surfing? Why?”

“I just don’t like it. I mean, I’ll do it, but I think it’s boring, and I’d rather be fishing. I usually only surf to hangout with my childhood best friend, Kevin, actually. He’s a big surfer around these parts, and it’s all he does. He’s sponsored and everything.”

“Oh. Cool. Where is he?”

“He left, he’s gotta go on a date. With someone named Jeff,” he added with a glance at me. “Is that, like, cool with you?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Some people think it’s weird, or whatever. But our families are super close and he’s been like a brother to me since I could remember. Or a sister, I guess, come to think of it.”

“Too bad I didn’t get to meet him,” I laughed.

“It’s fine. You’ll get a lot more chances. And plus, this just gives me more time alone with you.” He leaned against my leg and then got serious. “Oh, and I have something for you.”

Soon he produced a crumpled-up paper from his backpack, smoothed it out, and placed it on my towel. I picked it up to find a photo of a gorgeous teenaged girl with red hair and striking hazel eyes.

“Yeah?” I asked as I held it. “She’s cute. Who is it?”

“You just read her book for the sixteenth time,” he said, and I jumped a bit. The most remarkable thing about Saviour was that nobody had a clue what she looked like. She went everywhere in elaborate bejeweled masks from Paris fashion houses, and her true appearance had been a mystery ever since her first album two years ago.

“Wait,
what
? Saviour’s face is nowhere. Where did you…?”

“It wasn’t easy – I spent all day at the library,” he smiled, “but the reference computers proved useful. Turns out she won an international poetry contest in New York when she was thirteen, and I found this somewhere in a competition log.”

I didn’t know what to say. “This is amazing, Cooper, but…
why
?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, brown eyes burning. “To show you the subjectivity of beauty,” he said. “A mask can make a beautiful face invisible, and beauty can make a scar invisible. It’s all just a bunch of beautiful bullshit if you ask me.”

I just stared at him.

“And also,
I
wanted to see her face, too,” he blushed. “Hiding in plain sight these days is a pretty admirable feat.”

“Agreed,” I said when I could talk again. “By the way, I have something for you, too. Are you done surfing?”

“I guess. Why?”

I reached into the Publix shopping bag I’d brought and carefully took out the Tupperware box containing the mini-Funfetti cake I’d baked for his mother earlier that day. I was a little nervous and didn’t want him to think I was like, weird or stalkery or anything, and so I didn’t know how he’d take it, but for some reason a tear squeezed out of his eye.

“It’s for your mom,” I said as he took the pan. “You mentioned how tomorrow was her birthday, and I just wanted to make sure she had a good one, and…yeah. Hope I’m not overstepping any boundaries or anything.”

“You are,” he whispered, “but not the ones you’re thinking of.”

“What?”

“Never mind.” He just stared down at the cake. “God, this was really nice of you, Summer. My mom’s been really depressed ever since getting stuck in the wheelchair, and she doesn’t really have any friends anymore since none of them knew how to deal with the whole MS thing, and, well…”

He grabbed my head and planted a kiss on my bangs. “Your heart is as big as the ocean we live on, Summer. I am very glad I met you. And for the record, my birthday’s in March, as you know, and I like Key Lime Pie – any cooking activities on my behalf would be greatly appreciated.” He sniffled and shook his head. “And enough serious stuff. Tell me about your day at work, why don’t you? I absolutely
must
hear more about this crazy boss of yours!”

~

Not all sailing was smooth, though. About a week later I discovered I had the day off from work and decided to indulge in Morning Movies, my favorite past time, to clear my rip-roaring head. For some reason I just really liked the movie theater in the mornings, when everything was cold and empty and sterile. I went at 10:40, but at that time they were only showing the most depressing movie ever, some weepie about a WWII bride who got left alone at home while her man went off to fight, and I had no choice but to watch it. And in the end it turned out being way worse than depressing: it was just totally unrealistic and full of stupid clichés, and it even made me mad for some reason. All the bride did was sit around waiting for her man. Why were some women so desperate? Did someone left alone
really
have to lose their identity? And, like, falling in love was dangerous. Why would this girl just hand over her heart to someone who was about to leave? Didn’t she know how stupid that was?

And why on Earth had I agreed to watch this movie in the first place, again?

One line in particular toward the end of the movie chilled me to the bone. “And in the end,” the bride whispered at her groom’s body as it lay in the casket upon returning home, “I suppose the only way to find happiness is to risk total destruction.”

I shivered the whole way home.

That night I settled into a game of Scrabble with my mom and Chase on the dirty living room carpet. Hanging out with the two of them had always been a little awkward – it was usually either just me and Chase, or Chase and my mother. It’d been this way ever since his second birthday, when we’d both burst into his room early in the morning to sing him the birthday song and give him a donut. After taking the donut, he said, “Thank you, Mommy, love you,” pushed Shelly aside, and reached for me instead.

She didn’t get out of bed for a week.

To escape the awkwardness I sneakily took out my phone and started scrolling through Facebook. Misty the Pen Thief was shouting about her engagement again, sharing every single detail about her meetings with her party planners and her latest dates with her fiancé. He looked miserable in every picture, and if I didn’t know them I would’ve guessed they were on the rocks, or at least well on the way there. But like Saviour had said, I guess the truth didn’t matter as long as the lie was pretty enough.
Look at my love!
all her posts seemed to shout, regardless of what they actually said on the surface.
Look at this man love me! I am so much better than all of you bitches!

I was preparing to send a gossipy message to Autumn trashing Misty the Pen Thief to shreds when Cooper texted the following:

I want to continue this text conversation, but I’m going to eat, and I want a companion. I’ll text you the address. Meet me there, if you are so inclined. Let’s redo my Night of A Thousand Trips to The Bathroom before I die of embarrassment.