Summer Girl Page 3

  “Kind of. It’s actually an early birthday present from his mom.”

  She groans. “I’m sorry.” Then her eyes dart away from me. Jenna Smith, the sophomore who bumped Macie out of a spot in the campus production of Antigone, has just shown up. She’s already adopted her summer vacation wardrobe: a halter-top and Daisy Dukes that barely cover her hoo-ha. Macie’s eyes narrow when Jenna starts hanging on one of the guys around the fire.

  “I hate her,” Macie snarls under her breath. “I wish she wasn’t coming back next year.”

  Macie’s words bring my mother’s confession crashing back down on me. Despite Macie’s wish, Jenna stands a much better chance of coming back next year than I do.

  A flood of anxiety twists through my gut. I wasn’t planning on saying anything about this, but my mouth is faster than my brain. “I’ve got to talk to you.”

  I grab her elbow and pull her around the side of the Theta Delt house, but when we get there I don’t know what to say. I stare at her, openmouthed, for a full five seconds. “I…I…”

  “Katherine, what’s wrong?”

  “I don’t have enough money.”

  “Okay,” she says, drawing out the word. “These guys usually do five-dollar cups. Does this mean you’re finally drinking with me tonight?”

  I give her a knowing look. She understands all about my mom’s drinking and how I feel about losing control. My two worst nightmares poured into a red Solo cup? Forget it.

  “Right,” she says. “Then what?”

  “What I mean is that I don’t have enough for next year’s tuition. I’m not going to graduate with you.”

  Her eyebrows come together in a worried point. “I’m not following.”

  “Neither am I,” says a deep voice above us.

  I look up, and Andrew is leaning, bare-chested, out of his bedroom window. His shoulder muscles flex as he braces his hands against the sill. My heart starts racing, but I’m not sure if it’s the result of being overheard, or because he looks so damn sexy leaning out over me like that.

  “Stay there,” he says, pulling on a sweatshirt. “I’m coming down.”

  Macie looks from him back to me, and her expression tells me that she wants me to spill before Andrew gets outside.

  I bite my bottom lip and put my hands behind me so I can lean against the house without getting my dress dirty. I need more time to figure out how to explain because—if I’m really going to tell them—I only want to say it once. A few seconds later Andrew comes running around the house with an extra sweatshirt in his arms.

  “Now tell me what this is all about,” he says, pulling the sweatshirt over my head. It nearly hangs to my knees. It also smells like Andrew, which makes all the muscles in my lower half go a little spongy.

  I wrap my arms around myself and sigh. “How much did you hear?” I ask as my stomach plummets. I wanted to have this problem fixed before I told him about it.

  “Enough,” he says. “Something about you not graduating on time.”

  “That about sums it up.” I tip my head back and stare at the dusky sky.

  Andrew looks at Macie, then back at me. “You’re going to have to do a better job of explaining.”

  “Yeah, it can’t be as bad as all that,” Macie adds.

  “It’s bad. Mom spent my money. Like, a lot of it.”

  Andrew seems to understand without much more explanation than that, but Macie pulls her eyebrows together, furrowing her forehead. “Can she do that? Legally, I mean.”

  “It’s the same account I had since I was a kid. It still has both our names on it, so I guess so. But that’s really beside the point. How is this happening to me? I can’t not finish school.”

  “How much do you need?” Andrew asks, as if he’s about to whip out his checkbook.

  “Nine thousand two hundred dollars. Less, I suppose, if I live at home next year.” The very idea of it makes my shoulders tense.

  Andrew bows his head and stares at the ground. After a few seconds he says, “Well, you can’t do that. Listen, Katherine, let me help you.”

  “No,” I say, while Macie nods her head so vigorously she looks like a bobblehead.

  Even though a part of me wants to throw my arms around Andrew and thank him, another part of me is drowning in shame. This is my problem. I can fix it. And I need Andrew to know that I can handle my own problems. Even if I have absolutely no idea how I’m going to do that.

  “It can be a loan,” he says. “I’ll charge you interest if it makes you feel better.”

  “I still wouldn’t feel right about that.”

  “But that’s a good idea,” Macie says. “What about a loan? From a real bank.”

  “I’ve already taken the max.” Out of the corner of my eye I see Andrew’s mouth tighten.

  His family has had no need for loans. Sometimes I wonder if it’s all my loans that keep him from wanting a relationship with me. Who’d want to be saddled with someone else’s debt?

  “A scholarship?” she suggests.

  “I’ve already got some,” I say.

  “And it’s too late in the year to apply for them anyway,” Andrew adds gloomily.

  “Listen,” Macie says, “this is not the end of the world. We’ll figure this out. For now, let’s tap that keg, okay? I do my best creative thinking when I’m hammered.”

  Andrew looks at me doubtfully.

  “It’s true,” I say. “She studied for her Shakespeare final with a papier-mâché skull in one hand and a bottle of Jack in the other.”

  “That’s right,” Macie says as she squeezes my arm. “We’ll figure this out. We just need a little creativity juice.” With that, she heads back to the front yard of the fraternity house, leaving me and Andrew alone in the shadows.

  “This is what was bothering you at dinner, isn’t it? Why didn’t you say something to me then?” His eyes are warm, and they look at me with genuine sensitivity. My heart melts. He’s right. I should have told him.

  “I didn’t know what to say. I was still in shock, and you were going on and on about the acidic tomatoes and party planning…” I laugh a little, but he doesn’t. Frankly, my sense of humor does seem a little forced.

  “When something like this happens,” he says, putting both his hands on my shoulders, “I want to be the first person to hear about it. That is, if I’m important to you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” My heart quickens.

  “It means…remember that time senior year when we overheard my parents fighting?”

  Of course I remembered. His parents were always the epitome of control and quiet confidence. It was one of the reasons I liked hanging out at his house so much. To see them losing themselves to their grief like that…well, it had been shocking to me, but it had destroyed Andrew.

  He’d run out of the house, leaving me standing there. I had to chase him down, and when I caught up to him, he practically dissolved in my arms.

  As many times as he’d helped me through things that year, I’d never let myself fall apart like that in front of him. The mere thought of it was demoralizing. I had never fully trusted Andrew with my vulnerability, but he had trusted me with his.

  “It means,” he continues, “that sometimes I can’t help but think that I need you more than you need me.”

  My eyebrows shoot up so fast I’m pretty sure they hit my hairline. I hate where this is coming from, but it’s still pretty close to what I’ve been waiting for him to say all these years. I mean something to him. I mean a lot to him. Which is why I don’t want to burden him with my current crisis.

  “Andrew…my problems don’t have anything to do with you. There’s no reason why you should—”

  He drops his hands from my shoulders. “See. That’s what I mean. Everything in my life has everything to do with you. You’ve been the one constant thing in my life for…what? Over seven years now? That’s not an accident, Katherine. We…work. We make sense. We’ve both been through some rough times, and we o
nly made it to the other side because of each other. I understand you, and you understand me because the same things are important to both of us. Do you know how rare that is?”

  His words knock the wind out of me, and I wait for him to spit it out. To just say it. Say it, Andrew. Tell me that you love me. I love you. We belong together, and not just as friends.

  But then he says, “You’re my best friend. My life would suck without you.” I try to pretend he’s not quoting a Kelly Clarkson song and let him wrap me into a bear hug. I can be patient. That’s what love is. “I’m sorry this is happening,” he says, “but don’t worry. I’ll come up with a plan, and we’ll put the wheels back on this bus.”

  I nod my head against his chest. I trust him, but I want him to believe in me, too. Just like him, I’m stronger than I was back in high school, back when everything fell apart. When he realizes that for himself, that’s when he’ll see me differently.

  Chapter Four

  Katherine

  The next morning I’m leaning into the bathroom mirror at the Alpha Phi house, trying to see how close I can get the mascara wand to my eye. Lexi and McKenzie are standing along the counter to my right. Based on the way they’re dressed, I’m guessing they have brunch plans at Brook Marsh. Mom and I used to do lunch at the country club. Back before Dad left.

  Macie comes in just as Lexi and McKenzie leave. “Here,” Macie says, slapping something against my back, hard.

  “What’s that?” I ask. I take my time twisting the mascara cap back on and dropping the tube into my makeup bag.

  “This,” she says with her typical dramatic flair, “is what they call the campus newspaper.” She says it slowly like she’s pronouncing a foreign word.

  “Yeah, I think I’ve heard of that before. I mean, why do I want it?”

  She shakes it in my face. “Girl, inside these smudgy pages I’ve found the answer to your prayers. Your means of salvation.”

  I roll my eyes and start brushing my hair. Macie is always going on about finding herself, or finding myself, or finding something. She means well.

  “Look,” she says, flipping the paper open and folding it back on itself. She jabs her finger to the want ads, one in particular that she’s circled in red Sharpie.

  I pull a handful of paper towels off the roll and start to wipe down the sink, then notice the water spots on the mirror and tackle them, too. “Am I being incredibly dense?” I ask. “I still don’t get it.”

  “This is your ticket,” she says. “And would you please stop cleaning the bathroom? The housekeeper will do that.”

  I sigh in surrender; she’s losing patience with me.

  “Not only does this cancel out all your money drama,” she continues, “but I’ve been thinking about this, and it may be your last chance to do something on your own. Just for you. Not for your mom. Not for Andrew. Not even for me. You need this job for more than just the money.” She sounds almost pleading now.

  I roll my eyes again and look down at the newspaper she has set on the counter.

  WANTED. Summer caretaker for historic lighthouse on Little Bear Island. 6/1–9/3. Education/exp w/historical sites preferred. DL required. $10,000. Serious inquiries only. 218-555-0113.

  I make a dismissive sound and toss the paper towels in the garbage. “Too far away.”

  “A short six-hour drive,” is her quick response.

  “Why would they pay so much? Ten grand? That’s insane. There’s got to be a catch.”

  “The old man who lives there leaves on an Alaskan fishing trip every summer. He had someone lined up as summer caretaker, but she backed out at the last minute. The guy’s desperate. And a little eccentric, if you ask me. He’s trying to make it an offer that’s hard to refuse.”

  “How do you know all that?” I ask, flipping the paper over. Did I miss something?

  “I called,” she says, looking pretty satisfied with herself. “I checked it out in advance. You didn’t think I’d send my friend into something sketchy, now did you? I told him that you were super tidy, maybe even a little obsessive. He seemed to like that, plus I told him how you worked at the campus historical center one semester.”

  “I filled in for someone one day.”

  “So I stretched the truth a little. The job’s yours if you want it. He asked that you call and confirm by tomorrow.”

  “Confirm? Macie, you can’t go around committing me to things without asking me first.”

  “Come on, Katherine. It’s good money. It’s all the money you need.”

  I can’t deny that, but I lean into the mirror, trying to seem unimpressed. The problem has been making my head spin. I can’t do the internship and still make enough money for school, but it’s not likely I’d make enough in only three months anyway, so skipping out on the internship seems like a complete waste of an opportunity. I’d been thinking maybe I could find a job in town where I could work nights and work with Professor Schumacher during the day. (I mean, who needs sleep?) But I couldn’t do that long distance. And a lighthouse? What’s up with that?

  “Come on, Katherine. Heading up to the north woods. It’s very romantic, don’t you think? It sounds like something out of one of your books. What’s that one on your shelf? The one with all the dog ears?”

  I laugh without any bitterness. Macie has that effect on me. “Pride and Prejudice, but believe me, it doesn’t sound anything like that.”

  “Katie,” she whines, knowing how much I hate it when she calls me that.

  “I appreciate your concern, but—”

  “Do you?” She tips her head to the side, and her earring swings like the pendulum on a grandfather clock. She holds the newspaper up in front of my face, so I can’t help but read the advertisement again.

  “What’s ‘DL required’ mean?” I ask. “Driver’s license?”

  “Or dog lover,” she jokes as she shoves the newspaper back into my hands.

  “Ha, ha.” Animals really aren’t my thing. My mom bought me a Betta fish after Dad left, but it committed suicide. It leaped right out of its bowl onto the steaming radiator while I ate my breakfast. Pretty much lost my enthusiasm for the whole pet thing after that.

  “Andrew won’t like it.” I sling my backpack onto my shoulders.

  Macie throws her arms up in exasperation. “The fact that that’s your brilliant counter-argument makes me even more convinced you need to get out of here for a while.”

  I groan in annoyance, but I slip the newspaper into my backpack anyway. I don’t want to fight with her. And maybe…somewhere…in the back of my mind…I worry that she might be right.

  It’s well past midnight and my pillow is buzzing. At first I think it’s a mosquito that has discovered the tiny hole in my window screen. I slap at the air then flop over, covering my head with the blankets. After a few seconds of thrashing, I’m fully awake, realizing that I’ve fallen asleep on my phone and I’ve missed three texts from Andrew. It buzzes again.

  Me: where r u?

  Andrew: outside in my car. can i come in?

  Me: no men after midnight. rules.

  Andrew: seriously? it’s not like i’m going to ravage you on the living room floor.

  I stare at those amazingly awesome words for a minute, or two. Or three. The image of our naked, tangled bodies sends a flash of heat right to my core. Unfortunately, before I can figure out how to respond in a clever, sexy way, Andrew has to go and break the spell.

  Andrew: kidding. sorry if that embarrassed you. i just really need to talk.

  His text douses my flash fire with cold water. I’m glad he can’t see my face because there’d be no hiding my disappointment.

  Me: talk about what?

  Andrew: i heard about the job.

  A flutter of panic hits my stomach. He’s going to talk me out of it. Not that I’ve talked myself into it, but still. We’ve had plenty of conversations over the years that started just like this. Oh man, I’m not being fair. Macie is rubbing off on me too much. Andrew wouldn�
��t do anything that wasn’t in my best interest.

  Andrew: you’re not going to take it, are you? what about professor schumacher’s internship? how is this going to look on your resumé?

  I bite my lip. Way to cut to the chase, Andrew.

  Me: it’s a good job that pays. it would solve everything.

  Andrew: but what about us?

  I wish I could hear his tone of voice. I don’t know how to take his meaning.

  Me: what is US…exactly?

  This is dangerous territory, and my palms are instantly sweating. My question skates around the edges of a conversation I’ve been too afraid to have, and I suspect he doesn’t see coming.

  Andrew: US is you and me, just like it’s always been.

  Me: then i expect US to continue, even if i do take the job.

  I read the text over in my head. The “if” looks more like a “when.” Andrew sees it, too.

  Andrew: i would miss you.

  I bask in those five words and consider leaving things there so we can end on that note. Instead, I respond.

  Me: it’s only three months.

  And there it is. Mentally, I’ve accepted the job. I only have to make the call and confirm. Shit. What am I doing?

  Andrew: sure. sure. i just worry.

  Me: no need. it’s all under control. i can solve my own problems.

  Andrew: you sure about that?

  I scowl at his question. His persisting doubt makes me want to lash out. Anyone else, and I would have, but I don’t because it’s Andrew. He didn’t mean his question the way it sounds.

  Me: it’s a job. it’s money. and it might be nice to try something on my own this summer. find myself.

  Andrew: haha! you spend too much time with macie. you’re not lost. there’s nothing to find.

  I type out, some alone time. maybe i could try painting. But then I delete it.

  Andrew: i don’t like the thought of you being alone.

  Me: i wouldn’t be alone. there’s a whole town full of people.

  Andrew: but what would you do?

  Me: probably read a lot.

  There’s a long delay, then…

  Andrew: not exactly productive. we’ll talk later. good night, katherine. love ya.