Jessica Sankiewicz - If Only We

Chevy raises his eyebrows. “Whoa, don’t sound so excited.” He pauses to read my face. “You’re not anymore, are you?”

He can read me so well, always has been able to. It was a rare moment when I could hide how I really feel. Right now, I can’t hide it. I bite my lip. “Don’t tell anyone, okay? I think…I think I haven’t been able to catch up with myself.” I haven't been able to wrap my head around what could be happening, much less understand why my enthusiasm for my career has come to a screeching halt.

He nods. “Sure, I understand.” He puts a hand on my shoulder. “We can talk about it later.”

Later—that sounds so nice to hear.

I give him an appreciative smile. “Was your dad able to get you into the shop?” I ask. His dad works at The Auto Stop, our neighborhood car repair shop.

“Yep! They were only able to give me two days a week but it’s a good start.” He shrugs. “It’s not like I’m planning on leaving home anytime soon.”

“That’s true.”

Out of nowhere, Lyndsay bumps into me from behind. “Hey!” she shouts, giving me another huge hug. “I am so proud of us I could shout it from the rooftops.” She turns to Chevy and hugs him too. Then she grabs my hand and says, “Come on! We’ve got to say goodbye to everyone.”

I laugh as she pulls me away. “I guess I’ll talk to you later?” I say to Chevy.

He chuckles and waves. “Definitely.” He disappears into the crowd.

Lyndsay and I spend the next fifteen minutes running around and tackling every classmate we see in hugs and saying “Have a great summer!” to each and every one of them. It’s so strange to see what I missed.

My dad catches sight of me, runs over, and pulls me into a big bear hug. “Hey squirt!” It's strange how I had just seen him two days ago, but at this point, it had been six months. Of course he misses me, and I should miss him.

I laugh. “Hey, Dad.”

“I’m so proud of you,” he says, still hugging me. “I can’t believe how grown up you are. It makes me feel old.” He gives me a kiss on the cheek before he lets me go.

“You’re not old!”

“Someday you’ll understand.”

When the rest of the family walks over to us, I say to him, “That’s funny. Mom said that to me earlier.” I turn to Mom. Some days I wonder why they ever divorced.

“I said what?” she asks.

“That I’ll understand someday.”

She nods knowingly with a smile. “You will.” She pulls me in for a long hug. “I still can’t believe it.”

“Believe it.” I squeeze her back.

Maurice speaks up, “I think it’s time to celebrate, don’t you?”

* * *

At the restaurant while we wait for our table, Lyndsay pulls me aside to ask how things went with Chevy. She knew I was planning to talk to him after the ceremony. Or I was, last she heard. “You aren’t acting like he wanted to go out with you, and you aren’t acting like he didn’t want to go out with you. What gives?”

“I didn’t ask him,” I say, twisting my hair between my fingers.

Her jaw drops. “You what? You’ve been talking about this for weeks and psyching yourself up for it and you don’t even ask him. Why?”

I shrug. “I didn’t think it was the right place.” More like, it was a bad idea to begin with.

“But you told me…”

“I’ve had a lot of time to think about it—”

“Twelve hours?” She seems disbelieving.

Ignoring my faux pas, I continue, “—and I think it would be more…appropriate in a different setting.” That sounds like me. Always postponing something out of fear of what could happen. Talking to him was supposed to break me out of my pattern. I have learned my lesson there.

“Appropriate…in a different setting?” She appears confused by my words. And rightly so.

“Yeah.”

She shrugs, not wanting to argue or push the issue, even though I know she believes I should get it over with. The glory of the summer after graduation only lasts so long and things can change quickly. “Whatever floats your boat.” She has always been supportive of my crushes, even if she doesn't fully understand the appeal.

No matter what, she has always been there for me, just like she was after I was rejected. That day, I slinked off down the hallway leading out of the auditorium. When she found me and I told her, I could sense her heart crushing alongside mine. She was so mad. I kept telling her I was fine but I know she didn’t believe me.

Dinner this time is more pleasant. Mom and I discuss the nursing home volunteer work for Monday. I muster as much excitement as I can, telling her I can’t wait to get started. No talk of skipping out on my mom’s plan for my future. No talk of running off to my dad’s to escape. No yelling, arguing, screaming, or crying. It's nice.

It's not until I'm about to say goodbye to my dad that I notice something. There is sadness in his eyes that I never saw any other time we said goodbye. Now that I'm keeping my promise to Mom, it means I won’t see him all summer. Then once summer is over, I will be in college and won’t be able to see him until winter break. As I am hugging him, I whisper, “I’ll find a way to come see you before I start school in the fall.”

I can feel him smile. He whispers back, “I’d like that.” I have no idea how but I know I need to. In any case, my dad’s feelings are equally as important as my mom’s.

When I'm finally in bed, I think about the day and how much I have already managed to improve. And with these thoughts of changing the past circling in my mind, I drift off into the most satisfying sleep I have had in months.

Sunlight pours through my curtains and into my eyes. Why did my mom insist on the white satin ones? I squeeze my eyelids shut tighter and yank the covers over my head. Then I have a realization and sit up with a start.

What is today?

I grab my calendar. June third. I'm not reliving graduation day again. Thank goodness. Letting out a huge sigh of relief, I flop back down on my pillow.

But wait. June third.

This means I really am reliving the whole summer and it wasn't my imagination. It also means I must have done something right. If that's the case, I need to make it through the rest of the summer without screwing anything up. This means it is imperative to take into account all the possibilities, what needs to be done, and what needs to be avoided.

My head starts to pound again. This is almost too intense. How am I going to do this?

I sit back up and mutter to myself, “Paper, paper, I need paper,” as I grab a handful of sheets and a pen from my desk. I begin to write.

How Not to Ruin This Summer

1. Volunteer at the nursing home for Mom

2. Watch The O.C. with Kaitlin

3. Spend more time with Chevy

4. Make sure that John doesn’t drive that night.

Those are the most important things, especially the last one. Am I missing anything? I close my eyes and go over everything I remember. From the very brief conversations I had with my mom to the emails Lyndsay sent, there isn’t much to go by. Perhaps it's good I'm mostly going into this blind. It saves me from constantly stating facts before they happen.

I’m so focused that I jump when my phone buzzes. It’s a text message from Lyndsay: “Grad party at Roger’s tonight. You in?”

Oh my goodness. How could I have forgotten about this? Lyndsay told me all about it. There were at least a hundred people there, mostly members of our graduating class but some outsiders and underclassmen. And as Roger’s best friend, Chevy was there…but, then again, so was Heidi.

My stomach sinks. It took all summer for me to forget about this. Lyndsay, and half the party guests, saw them kissing. Of course, the kiss was a one-time thing and they didn't date again. Yet, it still happened. I don’t need to see that.

Wait. Why should I care about that? Just because it happened once doesn’t mean it has to happen again. I could change it. I am trying not to ruin this summer. How can I do that if I let everything go on as if I was not there when I am here now? I have already paved the way to a new destination by staying here instead of leaving. Who’s to say I can’t do the same tonight?

I send back: “I’m in.”

* * *

Ben and Lyndsay arrive around six thirty to pick me up. Under normal circumstances, I would have been ready at the door had I not started to over-think what to wear. What do you wear at a party? Would jeans and a T-shirt be too casual? Would a sundress be too formal?

Lyndsay takes one look at the small pile of clothes on my bed and says, “Are you coming down with something?”

“What? No. Why?”

“You never fuss this much over clothes.”

I pause in the middle of my closet-digging. She’s right, I don’t. Why should today be any different from any other day? I attribute it to my wanting to be noticed. All Lyndsay is wearing is a lacy-edged brown tank top with tan capris. I decide to leave it up to her. Lifting up two possibilities, I ask, “Which one?”

“Kelly green tee with denim shorts.”

“Great.” I change into them.

She sits down on my bed and sifts through the clothes. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I just couldn’t make up my mind.” I throw on my high-top green sneakers. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Here.” She reaches over to my vanity and pulls out a white bead necklace. “This will complete the outfit.”

I slip the necklace over my head and look at my reflection. Simple and perfect. I give her a nod of approval. “Thanks.”

I leave a note for my mom telling her where I'm going. She left a couple hours ago to take Kaitlin to her friend Paige’s house for a sleepover, then run errands. I make sure to note that I'll be home by ten, since tomorrow is important. That ought to put her mind at ease.

When we get in the car, Ben asks, “What took so long?”

“Fashion crisis,” Lyndsay says, winking at me.

Ben notices. “Ah, I see… Where is this party?”

Lyndsay puts on her seatbelt. “It's at Roger’s house, which is on Woodlawn off Main.”

“Okay.” He pulls out of the driveway. “Is it a left or a right off Main?”

She turns to him. “You know, I’m not sure.”

“It’s a right, remember?” I interject.

She glances back at me, raising one eyebrow. “How can I remember if I’ve never been there?”

Uh-oh. She wouldn’t remember. She told me about getting lost going to this party. I play dumb. “Oh. I thought you had.” She just rolls her eyes at me.

The party is in full swing when we arrive. There are a few people out front but inside it's wall to wall. I get that uneasy feeling again. Less than three months ago, I missed this party. Today, I am here. Today shouldn’t be happening. I wish I knew how it was.

Roger isn't far from the front door. When he spots us, he shouts, “Hey! Welcome!” He gives us all high fives and moves on to the people coming in behind us.

“Let’s find the kitchen and get some drinks,” Lyndsay says. We weave through the crowd until we find it. My eyes search for Chevy. I’m so distracted I don’t hear Lyndsay talking to me. “Hello! Earth to Adrienne!”

I shake my head out of my trance and ask, “What?”

She raises her eyebrows. “You’re acting strange tonight.” She hands me a cup of pop.

“Whatever do you mean, dear Lynds?” I say before I take a sip.

Ben speaks up. “What she means to say is you’re a strange cookie.” He grins as Lyndsay jabs him with her elbow. “Ow! I take it back. You’re very normal, Adrienne.”

With everything I have faced in the last forty-eight hours, I highly doubt that. Still, I laugh and reply, “That might be pushing it a little, but I hope so.”

“He’s probably out back,” Lyndsay says. “Go ahead. Ben and I can mingle with the masses.”

“I don’t want to just leave you.”

Ben waves me off. “You didn’t dress to impress me,” he says pointedly. “Go. Scoot.”

I heave a sigh and scoot to the back, as he suggested. A few of my former classmates stop me to say hello and hug. I'm almost there when Chevy bursts in through the back doorway, frowning, his eyes darting around the room. When they rest on me, his shoulders relax and he smiles. He walks over quickly. “Come with me,” he says, taking my elbow in his as he turns me around.

“Everything okay?” I ask as my heart skips a beat at his sudden closeness.