Authors: Chandler Baker
“Look who’s here.” Brynn throws her hands in the air and struts into the circle of those gathered at the fire. Warm flames cast shadows that mask the freckles on her face. She
pauses and beckons for me to join her. “Miss Stella Cross, back from the dead and ready to attend her very first pier party. She’s kindly requested that nobody ask her
about…yanno…today. All other questions and requests may be honored on a case-by-case basis.” She curtsies. “Carry on.”
I don’t know what I was expecting, but it’s not as if anyone applauds when Brynn twirls me around. Instead, the conversation falls to a hush.
I stumble awkwardly out of our little pirouette. My hands hang limply at my sides while everyone stares at me like I’m from another planet.
There’s the gentle crashing of waves onshore. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a few of the other partygoers looking over in our direction with curiosity.
Unsure of how to proceed after my anticlimactic entrance, I slink to the perimeter.
Lydia grabs an unoccupied camping chair and Henry high-fives and backslaps his pals. Meanwhile, I hover. I’ve never even heard of a pier party. Since when is this a thing?
Finding me, Brynn comes over and latches onto my left arm. Her eyes glitter in the firelight. “Well?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. I still feel eyes on me. “Thanks,” I say at last. “You know, for not treating me like a cancer patient.”
Brynn opens her mouth as if to say something but apparently decides against it and, instead, makes her way over to the ice chest and blankets folded on the outer corner of the circle.
She’s never been the touchy-feely type. What else would you expect from a girl with six piercings by the age of seventeen?
She’s loud and brash, more fiery than her muted auburn hair. In sum, she’s life personified, while I wear the trappings of death around me like an invisible cloak. If she had her
way, she’d prefer to ignore my illness—unless she’s teasing me about being an invalid. In fact, I can’t recall ever having a real conversation about it. Not even once.
I remember lying on the roof of her house where we used to go tan and telling her I might die. That was the last time she ever so much as acknowledged the possibility. But then again,
she’s never abandoned me. It’s as if I’m there to ground her and she’s there to infuse life into me. The yin to my yang.
I trail after her, as I do so often, and tug the edge of a blanket from the pile and lay it out on the dirt underneath the pier.
Before I can get my feet tucked cross-legged, Henry plops down on the quilt beside me.
“I’m glad you came,” he says, staring at the smoke coiling up into the night air. Lydia’s come up with a bag of marshmallows from the cooler and is passing them out while
Ty searches for sticks.
I hold my palms out to warm them. “Told you I was fine.” I bump my shoulder into his. “You don’t have to always be my protector, you know.” It’s funny. I used
to want to be protected.
He nods. “I know.”
I watch as Tess takes a swig out of a flask and scoots off Brandon’s lap. Clearly tipsy, she sways to the music in front of Brandon, toying with the hem of her shirt. The spectacle draws
several guys into the vicinity, like mosquitoes to light. She tips her head back, long hair falling over her shoulder blades. Her belly button peeks out when she raises her hands over her head. I
swallow. I could never dance like that in front of everyone.
Henry takes a deep breath, probably making a herculean effort to ignore Tess and her flat stomach. “So, anyway. I was wanting to talk to you about next Friday. I have two tickets to Action
Hero Disco.” His words pour out. “If, you know, you might want to go.”
I register his question, but barely. Despite the carnival atmosphere going on around me, my attention is caught by movement in the distance, beyond the reach of the firelight. I raise myself up
onto my knees and cup my hands over my eyes as a visor. “Did you see that? I think there’s someone over there.”
Henry leans forward, peering around me. “I don’t see anything.”
I strain to see a moment longer, worried that a homeless person is lurking at the edge of our group. Or worse, the cops.
“Stel?”
“Yeah, sorry,” I respond idly, giving up. Must have been a raccoon or something.
“Concert tickets?”
“Really? I look at him sideways. “But you don’t even like Action Hero Disco. How the hell did you get tickets?”
Brynn plunks down on the blanket beside Henry, balancing a charbroiled marshmallow on a stick. “Don’t mind me.” She winks at Henry.
I shift my weight.
Henry huffs and angles his body away from Brynn. “Hold on. I don’t dislike them. I just hadn’t listened to much of their music and—” He hunches forward to rest his
elbows on his knees. “Matt had a couple tickets and asked me if I wanted them and I figured, why not?”
“Matt who?”
“Matt Akin.”
“From cross-country?” I ask. Why’s he so chummy with Matt Akin?
Brynn snorts and Henry glares back at her. “Jeez, Stella. Yes, from cross-country.” His fingers curl around his knees and he rocks back. “Can you call off the interrogation
now? Do you want to go or what?” I can’t be sure, but I think Henry’s holding his breath.
“Okay, okay, my bad. I was just asking.” I nod once decisively. “Yes, I want to go. One thousand percent, I want to go.” As if I’d miss a chance to see my favorite
band.
A crooked smile creeps across Henry’s face. “Really? Okay, cool.” He glances at Brynn again, and I feel like a secret passes between them, a secret that leaves me out.
“It’s at Neumos. We can figure out whatever else before then.” He’s talking too fast. It’s kind of adorable, actually.
“Get a room,” Brynn hoots.
This catches the attention of a couple of the boys seated by the fire. Connor chucks an empty aluminum can at Henry’s head. My cheeks flush.
Brandon twists around. He gently prods Tess’s leg to move her to the side so that he can see me. She teeters to her left and her locks brush across her face, sticking to her mascara. Her
lips work themselves into a pout as she glares at Brandon.
“By the way, Stella.” His words slur as he tilts the open flask precariously. “I was wondering, do you have, like, a pig heart now or something?” He flattens his nose
into a snout, as if we all need a refresher course on our basic barn animals.
“Shut the fuck up, Brandon.” Henry throws the can but misses. It clatters against a pile of rocks.
“Her tongue still works, doesn’t it, Jones? Let her answer.”
The gratitude I felt toward Henry only seconds earlier falters. Brandon may be an ass, but he’s right. It’s not Henry’s job to speak for me, and besides, I’m sick of
having so many handlers. I’m not a child star with a drug habit.
I clear my throat. I hate talking in front of groups. “Uh, no, just a regular one. All human.”
“Damn. So some poor sap had to eat it before you could get cured?”
Henry grinds his teeth next to me.
“You’re on thin ice, Delancey.” Brynn points her finger at him.
“Basically,” I say quietly.
“Brandon…” Tess raises her eyebrows as if she’s been kept waiting. Now that she’s not dancing, she’s been orphaned, off-center from the group’s
attention. He ignores her.
“Shit.” Connor pierces another marshmallow and holds it over the fire. “You know anything about whoever’s heart it is?”
“I’m sure she’d rather not think about it,” Henry growls.
“That’s not true,” I jump in. “But no, I guess I don’t. Know anything, I mean. The family asked not to be identified, so it’ll have to remain a
mystery.” I inch closer to the fire, trying to fend off the dampness that’s seeping into my vulnerable backside. A classmate cuts between Brandon and me on his way to the cooler and
back.
“Come on,” Brandon prods. “You must be curious about it. I mean, you literally have someone’s heart beating inside you. What if he was, like, a psycho or something and
it, I don’t know, somehow infects your brain.”
“You’re an idiot.” Lydia takes a break from blowing on a hot marshmallow.
I tug at the sleeves of my sweater. “Not sure that’s how it works exactly,” I say, attempting to sound nonchalant. “But yeah, of course. I think about it. Mainly I wish I
could thank them.” I try to brush off the line of questioning, but without wanting to be, I’m taken back to that night in the hospital bed, as I listened to Dr. Belkin tell my mom that
my potential donor had died. My family never talks about my match. But that doesn’t stop me from wondering.
“Survival of the fittest,” Brandon muses, taking another long pull from the flask.
Tess’s glower shifts to me. She narrows her eyes. “Well, at least you get to be the center of attention for once. That’s got to be a pleasant side effect, right?” Her
tone is sugary enough to give me diabetes.
I pull my knees into my chest. “I’m not sure what you mean. There are a lot of side effects. I wouldn’t call any of them pleasant.”
“Oh, I mean just like the whole surgery thing, then the in-and-out-of-school dance, and now, well, of course the stunt in anatomy today.”
My cheeks burn. “That wasn’t—”
“No, no.” She waves her hand as though I’m misunderstanding. “I totally get it. Go big or go home.”
Henry stands up, brushing off the back of his jeans. “Let’s go, Stella.” He reaches down for me, but I push his hand away and stand up on my own. Is this what people think of
me?
Brynn stands up and flanks me on the other side.
Tess cocks her head and flutters her long eyelashes. “After being gone so long, I mean, it makes total sense that you’d feel the need to act out. I think we all understand.”
She nods her head like a guidance counselor.
“
Act
out? There’s no acting involved.” My stomach clenches along with my fists. Just then a familiar head breaks through the ring. Harrison Miller has an easy gait as he
walks to the cooler stuck in the sand nearby. He swings his arms as if he’s never had a care in the world, smiling warmly, unthinkingly, at the faces he passes. The type of kid who’s
always class something—president, student council representative. This year it’s treasurer.
At the sight of him, my mouth goes dry. I try to look down but it’s too late. When he sees me, his eyes brighten. “Hey, Veronica,” he says.
Brynn’s and Henry’s heads both snap toward me. “Veronica?”
“Veronica Leeds. She’s new.” He looks back at me. “We met in the hall. Remember?”
All at once, my night is going in for a crash landing. Unable to avoid him, I look up. My eyes sting like I just got out of a pool. “Hi, Harrison,” I begin. I wonder if I look as
different to everyone else as I must have to Harrison, whether my weight loss has been that dramatic, whether my eyes have sunken in as much as I think they have whenever I look into the
mirror.
His forehead wrinkles. “Wait a minute. I know you. You’re…” He snaps his fingers and, for some unknown reason, I wait for him to come up with the right answer.
“Stella. Right? You’ve been out, but why—”
A snorting burst of laughter comes from behind him. Tess covers her mouth, giggling into her hand. “You gave him a fake
name
? That’s so
weird
and
embarrassing
.”
I struggle not to hurl on his shoes. Harrison just sort of shakes his head brusquely as though confused, then wanders away.
Brynn laces her fingers through mine and smiles sweetly at Tess. “Better than having a fake personality.”
Tess snatches the flask out of Brandon’s hand. “Why don’t you go take a leap off the pier, Brynn? Go on, I dare you. Oh wait, didn’t you already chicken out on that dare,
like, months ago? Still scared?”
And just like that I’m invisible again. Forgotten. Brynn’s warm hand drops mine as she steps toward Tess. “Oh, like you would even dip your toe in that water.”
“What are they talking about?” I ask Henry.
“Brandon dared Brynn a few months ago to jump off the pier in her underwear.”
Brandon smirks at the girls. “I’d actually be fine with any of you doing it. Rule one of the game: One cannot call out the daree, if the darer is not, in turn, willing to accept the
dare.”
“Because we’re not morons,” says Lydia.
“I’ll pay you fifty bucks to do it.” Brandon fishes for his wallet as if to prove that he’s serious.
Lydia just glares at him.
“Chicken.” Brandon snaps his wallet shut. The group’s chatter dies down and we listen to the fire crackle. Connor rummages around the cooler for a fresh beverage.
“I’ll do it,” I say, surprising myself. I wait for a reaction, but everyone’s gone silent, and before I know what I’m doing, I stand up and dust off the back of my
jeans. “I’ll do it. I’m serious.”
Adrenaline pumps through my veins, coupled with a high-pitched ringing in my ears.
Ty’s eyebrows spike up to his mop of blond hair. “Do what?”
“Jump off the pier.” I tilt my chin and stare up at the warped planks, through which the light of faraway stars shines.
Henry’s fingers wrap around my wrist. “Stella. Stop. It’s dangerous. Not to mention freezing.”
“I’m fine. How many times do I have to tell you?”
He drops his voice low. “You don’t have to try to look cool in front of them. I don’t care about any of that.”
My muscles go rigid. Acid burns my throat. He thinks I’m worried about embarrassing
him
? I wrench my wrist free from his grip and look to Brynn for help. Gently, she touches
Henry’s arm and shakes her head.
I can’t put into words exactly why I need to do it. All I know is this: I’m sick of being sick. And I’m even more sick of people treating me that way. I’m tired of being
left on the sidelines while everyone else is busy living their lives. I promised myself I’d stop doing that. I promised myself I wouldn’t be invisible.
I brush past Henry and start kicking off my shoes. For a brief moment, I think I see someone moving on the outskirts of our group again, but the movement’s stilled by the time I pull off
my sweater and am left stripped down to jeans and a flimsy black tank top.
“Holy crap, she’s going to do it.” Connor springs from his chair.