“When the summer’s over. That’s soon enough.”
“Beck,” my mother began, “I think it might be time.”
“I’ll know when it’s time,” Susannah said. “Don’t push me, Laur.”
I knew there was nothing my mother could say that would change her mind. Susannah was soft, but she was resolute, stubborn as a mule when she wanted to be. She was pure steel underneath all her softness.
I wanted to tell them both, Conrad knows already and so does Jeremiah, but I couldn’t. It wouldn’t be right. It wasn’t my business to tell.
Susannah wanted it to be some kind of perfect summer, where the parents were still together and everything was the way it had always been. Those kinds of summers don’t exist anymore, I wanted to tell her.
chapterthirty-five
Around sunset, Cam came and picked me up for mini golf. I waited for him on the front porch, and when he pulled into the driveway, I ran up to his car. Instead of going to the passenger side, I walked right around to the driver’s side. “Can I drive?” I asked. I knew he’d say yes.
He shook his head at me and said, dryly, “How does anybody ever say no to you?”
I batted my eyelashes at him. “No one ever does,” I said, even though it wasn’t true, not even a little bit.
I opened the car door, and he scooted over.
Backing out of the driveway, I told him, “I have to be home early tonight.”
“No problem.” He cleared his throat. “And, um, can you slow down a little? The speed limit is thirty-five on this road.”
As I drove, he kept looking over at me and smiling. “What? Why are you smiling?” I asked. I felt like covering my face up with my T-shirt.
“Instead of a ski-slope nose, you have, like, a little bunny slope.” He reached over and tapped it. I slapped his hand away.
“I hate my nose,” I told him.
Cam looked perplexed. “Why? Your nose is cute. It’s the imperfections that make things beautiful.”
I wondered if that meant he thought I was beautiful. I wondered if that was why he liked me, my imperfections.
We ended up staying out later than I’d planned. The people in front of us took forever on each hole; they were a couple, and they kept stopping to kiss. It was annoying. I wanted to tell them, Mini golf is not where you go to hook up. That’s what the drive-in’s for. And then after, Cam was hungry, so we stopped for fried clams, and by that time it was after ten, and I knew my mother and Susannah would already be asleep.
He let me drive home. I didn’t even have to ask; he just handed me the keys. In the driveway when we got home, I turned off the ignition. All of the lights in the house were off except for Conrad’s. “I don’t want to go inside yet,” I told Cam.
“I thought you had to be home early.”
“I did. I do. I’m just not ready to go inside yet.” I turned on the radio, and we sat there for five minutes listening.
Then Cam cleared his throat and said, “Can I kiss you?”
I wished he hadn’t asked. I wished he’d just done it. Asking made everything feel awkward; it put me in a position where I had to say yes. I wanted to roll my eyes at him but instead I said, “Um, okay. But next time, please don’t ask. Asking someone if they want to kiss you is weird. You’re supposed to just do it.”
I regretted saying it right away, as soon as I saw the look on Cam’s face. “Never mind,” he said, red-faced. “Forget I asked.”
“Cam, I’m sorr—” Before I could finish, he leaned over and kissed me. His cheek was stubbly and it felt kind of rough but nice.
When it was over, he said, “Okay?”
I smiled and said, “Okay.” I unbuckled my seat belt. “Good night.”
Then I got out of the car, and he came around and took the driver’s seat. We hugged, and I found myself wishing that Conrad was watching. Even though it didn’t matter, even though I didn’t even like him anymore. I just wanted him to know I didn’t like him anymore, to really know it. To see it with his own two eyes.
I ran up to the front door, and I didn’t have to turn around to know that Cam would wait until I was inside before he drove away.
