Five Summers (24 page)

“That’s ten minutes out of our way,” Jo said, shielding her face from the rain with one hand. “And there’s no ladder.”

“Never stopped us before,” Skylar said with a shrug.

Maddie looked unsure. “I don’t know if I can make the climb in this weather.”

“I can’t make it at all,” Emma said. She tried to remember the exact wording Mack had used in his rejection letter. “My wilderness skills are somewhat lacking.”

“Well it’s a good thing you’ve got us, then, city slicker,” Jo said, blowing droplets out of her eyes.

Even though it loomed like the top of the Empire State Building in her memory, Emma was relieved to find that in reality the old tree house was really only about ten feet off the ground, and the branches of the oak started at four feet, so it wasn’t as treacherous a climb as she had feared, even for a relatively uncoordinated person. Unlike the barn loft, however, the tree house was in perpetual motion, swaying gently back and forth as the driving wind and rain whipped through the woods.

“That’s not comforting,” she said as they stared up at the wet, gray wood, which had torn away in spots, exposing thick, rusty nails. The doorway was boarded shut, but the windows, which were about two feet square, were open to the elements—and to potential squatters.

“It’ll have to do,” Jo said. She put her hands on the lowest branch, pressing down on it a few times to make sure it would hold her weight. Then she vaulted herself up and swung a leg over, until she was straddling it like a horse. “The bark’s definitely slippery,” she called down as she climbed, the soaked bandana hanging from her belt loop like a piece of overcooked spinach. Emma watched as Jo tried to pull herself up on one of the thick, knotty branches that supported the tree house floor. She almost had a grip on one of the windowsills when her foot shot out from under her and she dropped almost two feet, hanging on precariously with her left elbow.

“Be careful!” Maddie yelled. “Use your feet like I showed you!” Jo smiled down at her with a look of grim determination and managed to get her legs back into position. A few minutes later, she was waving at them from the window.

“See? Piece of cake!” she called.

One by one, they climbed. Maddie had no trouble navigating the wet branches, and despite her lack of form, Skylar’s lanky legs and arms helped her reach the window in just a few long steps. But when it was Emma’s turn, the tree house once again seemed perilously high.

“I’m soaked already,” she called up. “I’ll stay down here . . . be a lookout.”

“Woman up,” Jo yelled. “We did it, and so can you.”

Maddie stuck her head out the window, her wet curls sticking to her forehead. “Just hug the branch!” she cried. “It’ll feel stupid, but just hug it and then wrap your leg up around it.” Emma put one hand on the rough, clammy bark. It didn’t seem worth it, but she couldn’t let the others think she had no follow-through. Especially since she knew now that was how they all thought of her—all talk, no action. So she reached up, hugged the branch for dear life, and kicked her right leg until her ankle found purchase on a knot. She shimmied her way onto the branch and looked up. Skylar was actually smiling, and at first Emma thought she was laughing at her again. But then she reached an arm out the window, spreading her fingers wide.

“You can do it, Em,” she said. “Just climb one more branch and you can grab my hand.”

She was right. No sooner had Emma managed to drag herself up the next two feet or so, than she felt Skylar’s long fingers close around hers, and then Jo leaned down to grab the other arm, and before she knew it she was crouched in the corner of the six-by-eight-foot wooden box, listening to the water drum down onto the sloped roof. Miraculously, there were only a few places where it was dripping through.

Emma’s already threadbare shirt clung to her skin, and she shivered as she took off her backpack and settled in against the wall, hesitant to put her full weight on it, afraid that it would fall away like wet pulp.

“Hey,” she said, smiling at Skylar as she blew fat raindrops off the tip of her nose, “thanks.”

Skylar put her hands over her face and mumbled something through her fingers. As she pushed her wet hair back over her scalp, Emma noticed that she was shaking.

“What?”

“I said, I’m sorry.” Skylar’s face was pale and gray, her normally sea-green eyes glassy. “I am so, so sorry.”

Emma took a deep breath of the chilly, damp air. Her muscles ached. She was so tired, she didn’t feel like fighting anymore. “I know,” she said. “Me too.”

“What I did was wrong,” Skylar said quietly. “But you have to believe me that I didn’t do it maliciously. That night on the beach, after Zeke left me—”

“I don’t need to know,” Emma interrupted her. She already knew enough to believe that Skylar was telling the truth. After all, she
had
rejected Adam, even though, in her mind at the time, she had just been avoiding getting hurt in the future. Skylar had been rejected, too, and somehow, somewhere between the fire pit and the rocks, she and Adam had crossed paths. The rest of the details were too painful to think about, and besides, Emma knew the basics from the first-edition copy of
Our Bodies, Ourselves
that her mom had given her when she turned thirteen. No matter who said or did what, they had found each other that night, and there was no way anyone could undo it. None of the barbs she had thrown at Skylar in the past twenty-four hours had helped. And neither had her fight with Adam, although the waffle punch had felt pretty good.

“I just wish you had told me sooner,” Emma said.

“I should have,” Skylar said. “I just didn’t know how. I thought you’d hate me.”

Emma shook her head. “I could never hate you.” It was true. She had tried, for the past ten hours or so, to hate Skylar, but the fact was she’d only felt so hurt and angry because she loved Skylar so much. And that hadn’t changed, underneath everything.

“I’d do anything to take it back,” Skylar said.

“Did it make you happy?” Emma asked. “Even a little?”

Skylar nodded and wiped her eyes.

“Then I wouldn’t want you to. You were right. I had my chance, and I threw it away. He wasn’t mine. And if I could go back, I would probably run away again. I wasn’t ready.”

“We can’t go back,” Jo said suddenly. She looked up at them and frowned. “I thought we could, too, but we can’t. We can’t ever go back to the way things used to be. We can only move forward.”

“Thanks for the tip, Gandhi,” Maddie said. “But they were kind of having a moment there.” Jo looked at her angrily for a second and then burst out laughing. Maddie smiled and shook her head. “Sorry,” she said. “That was bitchy.”

“No, I deserved it,” Jo said. “And I’m the one who needs to apologize. I don’t care where you come from. That doesn’t change who you are. And when I found out, I should have reached out to you, instead of assuming it meant you didn’t trust me.”

Maddie was quiet for a minute. “I don’t know why I didn’t tell you,” she said. “I just wanted to be a different person here. Like the Witness Protection Program or something.” She laughed. “It seemed like a good idea when I was ten, anyway. And then I felt like I’d already started it, so I had to keep going. Plus it was nice to have a pretend family who didn’t let me down.”

Emma smiled at her; she had no idea how Maddie could have been so brave for so long, making the trip from North Carolina all by herself even as a little girl, just to be with them.

“Is it really bad?” Emma asked.

“No,” Maddie said. “I mean, my parents have issues, and sometimes they screw up, but they feed and clothe me and my sisters and try to do their best. They love us as much as they’re capable of loving people who aren’t themselves. I could have it a lot worse.”

“That definitely puts my family problems in perspective,” Skylar said.

“What’s going on?” Jo asked.

“Just that my dad thinks I’m talentless and should give up on art school.”

“He’s crazy,” Emma said. “If it makes you feel better, my parents think I don’t work hard enough.”

“You?” Skylar asked incredulously. “All you do is work.”

“Right? Thank you!” Emma said, feeling vindicated. If anything, she felt like she needed to take on less responsibility. She definitely wasn’t going to retake the SATs again, she was sure of that much. She wasn’t even sure she liked Brown. NYU had a great writing program, it wasn’t a reach school, and it would mean she could go back to New York, where she already had at least one built-in friend who also happened to be extremely cute. Not to mention an eccentric aunt whose apartment she could sublet.

“My mom thinks I’m a standoffish lesbian,” Jo blurted out. “So does Nate, by the way.”

“Nate does not!” Maddie said.

“Maybe not after I kissed him.”

“What?!” Maddie cried excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“World War III was unfolding,” Jo said.

“I finally made out with Adam,” Emma said. She looked at Skylar apologetically. “I’m sorry if that’s weird. But it was something I needed to do.”

“No,” Skylar said. “I’m happy for you. Is that weird?”

“Yes,” Jo said. “Friends don’t let friends share boyfriends.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Emma clarified.

“Mine either,” Skylar said.

“I guess this is a weird time to bring it up, but Adam and I are engaged,” Maddie said. They all cracked up.

“You guys,” Jo asked once the laughter died down. “When did we stop being best friends?”

“We never stopped,” Emma said. “We just
lapsed
. I tried to keep in touch, but . . .”

“Life gets in the way,” Skylar finished.

“Exactly,” Maddie said.

“Hey!” Emma suddenly had what felt like a brilliant idea. “Why are we wasting our last day soaking wet in a tree? Let’s forget about the game and go back to the cabin for the slumber party we never got to have last time.”

Skylar clapped excitedly. “I would love that,” she said.

“Me too,” Jo said, clearing her throat. “But first we have to win this game.”

“Says who?” Maddie asked. “Don’t you think our time together is more important than a cheap little flag?”

Jo looked down at her feet. “It’s not the flag,” she said softly. “It’s what the flag stands for.”

“What?” Emma demanded. “Cutthroat competition? The humiliating vanquish of an enemy?”

“Shut up,” Jo laughed, and then looked up at her somberly. “It’s my last chance to win.”

“What are you on?” Skylar groaned. “There’s next year, and the year after that, and the year after that . . .” She smiled.

“Nope,” Jo said, “that’s where you’re wrong. You guys . . . I’ve decided that this is my last summer at Camp Nedoba.”

“But I thought you loved this place!” Maddie cried.

“I
do
love it,” Jo said. “This is my home. Literally. It’s my family. It’s basically my whole life. I love it. But Maddie, you were right. I shut out everything else.”

“I was upset,” Maddie said. “I said a lot of things I shouldn’t have. Like about your hair. I
love
your hair.”

“Thanks,” Jo said. “It was a big change, but I got used to it. And that’s why I know I’ll be okay if I don’t come back next year.”

“But . . . where will you go?” Skylar asked.

“I have no idea,” Jo said. “Maybe do a coaching internship or something. I haven’t really thought about it. I just decided today.”

“Did you tell your dad?” Emma asked. She couldn’t imagine camp without Jo. It almost felt like it couldn’t exist, like when Emma drove up next summer, all that would be left was a big crater.

“Actually, he kind of gave me the idea.”

“Wow,” Skylar said, leaning back against the treehouse wall and drawing her knees up to her chest. “It’s the end of an era.”

“Or maybe,” Emma said, gesturing to Jo to toss her the backpack, “it’s just the beginning of a new one.” She unzipped it and carefully removed the bulging portfolio that held the pact. Apart from a few small water stains on the outside, it was fine. “I took it home,” she said sheepishly. “I know it’s supposed to stay on camp grounds.” She decided not to add that the pact had been collecting dust under a box of super absorbent maxi pads (with wings!) in her bedroom closet.

“Well,” Jo said, visibly relieved at the change of subject, “I think we can safely vote Emma as our next virgin sacrifice.”

“Spoken like the only other eligible member,” Emma laughed.

“Can I see that?” Skylar said. She carefully unwound the leather tie that bound the portfolio together. Index cards threatened to spill out onto the wet floor, and Emma scooted over to hold them in place while Skylar ran her fingers over the map. “Look!” she said, pointing to a drawing of the tree house. “We’ve come full circle.”

Emma nodded and squeezed Skylar’s arm. Their friendship hadn’t ended, not by a long shot—it just needed to be renewed. Keeping her right hand on top of the precarious pile of pact rules, Emma fished at the bottom of the portfolio with her left and slipped out the thin, folded sheet of notebook paper covered in foil stars that marked their very first contract. They had all written their pledges on the same sheet of paper, folding it over four times and signing it at the bottom.