When I’m halfway across the yard, just a few feet from Lake House A, Nadine’s voice carries across the yard. “If you run I’ll just have the police come to your house,” she yells. I take two more long strides and come to a halt. I can see where the car should be, through the trees, in Kara’s grandma’s driveway. But there’s nothing there. I’m not running toward anything, because Asher took the car.Asher took the car.He’s been gone for almost an hour. It should have taken him less than fifteen minutes to drive to our house and get back. Nadine knows it’s me, so what’s the sense in running? When I turn to face her, she has her cell phone pressed against her ear. I stand at the edge of the trees, knowing I should do something, but unable to make myself move even an inch. I have never been paralyzed with fear like this before. The plastic forks clenched in my hand dig into my palm as I finally make myself walk back toward the dark yard spotted with white. Toward the ridiculous house and its eccentricities, Nadine, and the police car slowly pulling into the driveway. Alone.
To be fair, I don’t think the officerwantedto arrest me. Maybe it was the fact that I almost puked, I was so horrified at what was unfolding. Or that I just stood there silently as Nadine recalled the potatoes and the fleeing yard sculptures, and the “horrific”fish incident that got us kicked out in the first place. Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that I was the first person to ever try to open my own police car door, to let myself in.
Officer Jennings is a nice guy. Younger, probably in his midtwenties. Sitting in the car, he tells me Nadine will have to come to the station tomorrow to fileactualcharges. That until she does, he won’t have to take me in.
He drops me at the end of my driveway, and comes around the car to let me out. Why? Because I’m a criminal who sits behind handle-less doors, that’s why. Even though I know there’s only a 2 percent chance any of the parents would be awake at 4 a.m., I’m not risking it. Not when I haven’t even figured out how I’m going to tell my parents that I’m going to potentially face criminal disorderly conduct charges. My stomach twists again at just the thought of it.
I know in my heart that Nadine is going to press charges. She called the police. I think she would have done it then and there if Jennings had made it easier for her. The look in her eyes said she wanted to see me driven away in handcuffs.
And I want to be mad at her, but I’m madder at myself.Whatwas I thinking? Lurking around late at night, vandalizing homes? This isn’t me. I could be kicked off of the swim team if I have a criminal record. Oh my god. The thought comes to me like a flash of lightning, and right behind it come the tears.
By the time I reach the house, walking past the spot where the Marins’ car should be, my face is soaked. I am such an idiot. I risked everything I’ve worked for since I was nine, and for what? What would possess me to do something so stupid?
Asher.
Asher, who convinced me to turn myskillson someone else. Who lured me into the idea that this was all for fun—that we’d be making a better choice this summer not tormenting each other. Asher, who made me feel like he cared. Who wasn’t theretonight. Who left me alone exactly when I needed him.Exactly when I needed him.
As I open the door to my quiet room, and wipe my hand across my damp face, I know, finally, that everything I feared might actually be true: Asher Marin pulled off the greatest prank yet. He was never my friend, or my boyfriend; he is and has always been my nemesis.
Asher
I’ve sent Sidney eight texts, and she hasn’t answered one of them. But she’s read them all. Is it possible that her phone is dead and it’s just some sort of glitch? Nadine’s yard was empty when I finally got back to the house. I hadn’t expected to find my dad sitting at the kitchen table at 3 a.m. It would have been hard to explain why I was coming home that late just to leave with a giant bag of Saran Wrap. Instead I pretended I was just getting in for the night, and then waited until he went to bed to climb out my bedroom window.
I have to admit I never imagined I’d be utilizing windows as much as I have this summer. It was over an hour before I got back to Nadine’s, and I expected to find Sidney almost done with our fork mural—a giant hand, middle finger raised—but instead, I found nothing but the forks. I look at my phone again and the string of texts.
And as I pass her bedroom door, a soft light filtering under the crack like her bedside lamp is on, I send one more.
It’s exactly the kind of thing I expect from Sidney, but it still feels off. I wish we were actually talking so I could figure out if she was being sarcastic or snarky. With her, there’s an important difference.
When there’s no snarky reply, I know deep in my gut something is wrong.
I send message after message, not even sure what I’m hoping to accomplish, but feeling like I’m fixing something.
Fixus? Inside the bathroom, I knock on her door, loudly once, then quietly, when I remember it’s the middle of the night and we shouldn’t be awake.
When I reach the dock she’s already there, waiting for me. She’s bathed in a circle of light from the lamp pole next to thestairs, but otherwise it’s dark out here. And silent. I wish it was going to stay that way, because I know the things we’re about to say aren’t going to be good; I can feel it in the way she’s looking at me as I step out onto the dock.
She doesn’t say anything, just stands there and looks at me, like she’s expecting something from me.
“What happened?”
No one rolls their eyes like Sidney. And this one is A+, it’s like her whole head rolls with it. “As if I have to tell you.”
“You do, because I wasn’t there. And I’m not a mind reader.”
There go the eyes again. “How’d you manage it? Did Lindsay help? Has she been in on it the whole time?”
Lindsay?“Excuse me? In on what?”
This time she doesn’t bother with her eyes and really does let her whole head do the job, throwing her head back before it comes forward again. “For once, let’s own up to what we did, okay? This isn’t Kool-Aid or contaminated shampoo, or even rotten fish. This isdisorderly conduct.” She practically screams the last two words. “So you win. You win the whole summer. The last six years. You have trumpedeverything.”
I’m having a hard time wrapping my head around what she’s accusing me of right now. Of setting her up tonight; potentially getting her arrested. “You honestly think I spent all summer winning you over just so I could get you arrested?Thatwas my big finale?”
“What am I supposed to think?Yousprang tonight on me last minute.Youconveniently forgot something and had to leave.Youweren’t there when I had to face the music for everythingwe’vedone this summer.”
“Andyouhave been looking for any excuse for us not to work right from the start. You’re scared of this working, and you’re scared of this not working, and you’re just… scared of everything.”
Sidney narrows her eyes at me and her head tips to the right,like she’s trying to get a better look at me. “You think you’re so brave, but how’s that letter going? Don’t tell me about being afraid when you can’t even talk to your own dad about a decision that affects your whole freaking future.”
