The Summer I Wasn't Me (23 page)

When I leave Mr. Martin’s office, Carolyn’s not there anymore.

But Deb is waiting for me. “Come with me,” she says, and I follow her into another room, one I’ve never seen before. It’s a small bedroom, with a single bed and modest furnishings. There is a Bible on the desk and a photograph of Deb and a dark-skinned man with a mustache and his pants pulled up way too high. This must be her room for when she’s not on dorm duty.

“What are we doing in here?” I ask. “Shouldn’t I be packing or something?”

“You won’t be allowed back into the dorm until the other campers are safely down at the field cabins.”

Safely
. Of course. They don’t want to risk me and Carolyn infecting the other girls with our sickness.

And then, way too late, it dawns on me that it’s not just the other campers they’re keeping us from—they’re keeping us apart from each other too. This tiny room is a cell, and Deb, standing there in front of the door with her arms crossed, is the prison guard. A bud of panic sprouts in my stomach. “Where’s Carolyn?” I say cautiously.

“With Kaylee.”

“Can I see her?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Why do you think?” she retorts.

I stare into Deb’s flat eyes and sink down into the desk chair, suddenly sick to my stomach.

They’re keeping us separated. I’m not going to get a chance to say good-bye.

Oh my God—I don’t even have her contact information. All I really know is her first name and that she’s from Connecticut. That’s pretty much the same amount of information she has about me. How are we ever going to find each other again?

Think
fast, Lexi
.

“Is that your brother?” I say, pointing to the picture. Maybe if I can somehow get Deb to open up, she’ll help me.

“That’s my husband,” she replies flatly. “Now be quiet.”

“You must miss him,” I say. “Do you get to talk to him much while you’re here?”

She shoots me a look that says,
I
told
you
to
be
quiet
. That’s the only answer I get. Her face closes off even more, like she’s a robot powering down.

I sigh and lay my head down on the desk like I used to do in study hall. Or I guess I
still
do that in study hall. It seems like years since I was in school, but I’ll be back there in a matter of weeks.

Senior year. Back to my boy-crazy friends and Zoë acting like I don’t exist and senior pranks and homecoming and planning for college. But even with all the tedium, it won’t be the same as it was. Because I’m different. I’m not going to hide anymore.

I just really need Carolyn to help me through it.

Why the
hell
didn’t we exchange our contact info?

***

About an hour later, Arthur knocks on the door. “Lexi can pack her things now,” he says.

I follow Deb up the stairs and to the girls’ dorm, where Carolyn’s bags are already packed and waiting on her neatly made bed. She’s not there though.

It’s going to be okay
, I tell myself. Even if I have to call every single sixteen-year-old Carolyn in the entire state of Connecticut, I’ll find her.

I get to work neatly folding my clothes and wedging them all in my suitcase. Deb insists I take all the makeup and beauty products I’ve accumulated over the course of the summer, so they go in next, followed by my shoes. The suitcase is heavy and full, near bursting at the zippers, but it feels empty. Because it’s missing something.

“Hey, Deb?” I say.

She comes over to my area. “Yes?”

I say a quick, silent prayer. I need this to work. “Daniel has my book. Would you be able to get it back from him for me?”

She purses her lips, considering. I don’t know if she knows about the map or Carolyn’s and my notes to each other inside or not, and she doesn’t let on now.

I look at her, pleading. “Please? It’s really important.”

Finally, she nods. “I’ll be right back. Do not leave this room.”

I nod. Where would I go anyway? Wherever Carolyn is, she’s being guarded.

After Deb leaves, I rummage through Carolyn’s stuff, looking for anything that might help me find her. There are clothes, a half-completed sweater still attached to her knitting needles, running shoes, her purple rhinestone headband, but nothing helpful.

I hurry back to my bed, tear a blank page from my journal, and write—as neatly as I can—my address, email address, and cell phone number.

Then I add:
I’m not sorry we got caught. I’m going to tell my mom everything. I love you.

I fold the paper into a neat square and slide it into the side pocket of Carolyn’s duffle bag.

Satisfied, I go back to my own area and settle in to wait.

Fifteen minutes go by then thirty. Deb’s taking a lot longer than she should. Was she lying? Maybe she had no intention of getting my book back for me after all. Or maybe Mr. Martin or Brianna confiscated it as, I don’t know,
evidence
or something.

I’m beginning to give up all hope of ever seeing the book again when Deb comes back in. She hands the tattered paperback over to me. “This took forever to find,” she says, annoyed. “Daniel didn’t have it.”

“He didn’t?”

“No, Matthew had it with him in the infirmary.”

He did? That’s weird. Daniel had it in the woods with him only a couple of hours ago. How would Matthew have gotten ahold of it? And why?

“Oh,” I say. “Sorry about that. Thanks for getting it back.”

Deb nods and settles into her chair to resume the Great Watch. My mom’s due to arrive in about three hours.

I’m itching to open
Gatsby
, but I force myself to wait a suitable amount of time so Deb doesn’t get suspicious. It seems she didn’t open the book on her way back to the dorm—she doesn’t know all the secrets it contains. After about twenty minutes or so, I casually open the book as if I’m planning on reading for a while. But I discreetly flip through the pages, searching for a hint as to why Matthew would have had the book.

And there it is, on page 169, in the chapter-ending blank space just after Gatsby is shot.

Hey, Lex—

Matthew has scrawled.

Daniel told me what happened. For what it
’
s worth, he feels really bad about ratting you guys out. And even though he used the map to find you, he never let the book out of his hands. So no one else has seen what
’
s in it. Maybe that
’
s a sign that he
’
s on his way to changing his mind about all this crap. Or maybe not. I don
’
t know. Anyway, I guess I
’
m not gonna get a chance to say good-bye, so I just wanted to tell you what a great friend you
’
ve been to me this summer and that you better keep in touch or else!

I
’
m so
happy
for you
and Carolyn
—
you guys are perfect
together. When
you get
married,
I want to be your
maid
of honor.

Talk to you soon, Lexi. Love ya! And remember, don
’
t let the man get you down.

Xoxoxoxo Matthew

[email protected]

I smile, tuck the book safely away in my suitcase, and curl up on the bed, taking in the pink dorm room for the last time.

***

I’m jolted awake by Mr. Martin’s voice. “Lexi.”

I rub my eyes and sit up. “Yes?”

“Your mother is downstairs.” He spins on his heels and walks away.

This is it.

Time to face my mom.

She’s in the lobby, sitting in one of the sleek leather armchairs. I see her before she sees me, and a knot forms in my throat when I get a good look at her—she looks great. Her old color is back in her face, her cheeks are fuller, her eyes are bright in a way that feels much more permanent than it did before. She’s the mom I knew years ago.

“Hey, Mom,” I say.

She stands up when she sees me, and her face bursts into a huge smile.

All the emotions that have been brewing inside me finally come to a boil. I drop my suitcase handle and run into her arms. She holds me and rocks me and I cry into her shoulder. “I missed you,” I mumble.

“I missed you too, Lexi.” She strokes my hair like she used to do when I was a little kid and home sick from school.

Mr. Martin clears his throat. “Follow me, please,” he says and leads us into his office like he did that first day. “Mrs. Hamilton, I’m sure you’re wondering what Lexi has done to force us to ask her to leave our camp,” he says.

My mother nods.

“She was caught sneaking off with another female camper,” he says. He pauses, waiting for my mother’s reaction. But her face is unreadable. “She and this other young woman have had a blatant disregard for the rules and teachings of New Horizons,” he continues, “and I’m afraid we have no choice but to expel them both.”

My mom sits there for a minute, absorbing the information, and then says, “Thank you for letting me know.”

Mr. Martin looks surprised that that’s her only response. And honestly, so am I. What is she thinking?

Mom signs my release papers and shakes Mr. Martin’s hand, and before I know it, I’m walking out of the main cabin and driving back down the gravel mountain road.

We don’t speak until we’re on the highway.

“Your cell phone is in the glove compartment,” Mom says. “It’s fully charged. I thought you might want to call your friends to tell them you’re coming home.”

I have nine new voicemails and 138 emails. I’ll look at them later.

“Mom…” I begin. But I don’t know what to say. I search her face, looking for some kind of answer.

The corners of her mouth turn down. “I’m not going to tell you this is all okay.” She keeps her eyes on the road.

“I know,” I say quietly. That would have been too much to hope for.

“I worry about you. So, so much. This life isn’t what I would have chosen for you.”

No kidding.

“And I really wish we were going back home on different terms. But that’s only because I want what’s best for you.”

“But this
is
—”

“Let me finish,” she says, finally darting a glance over to me. “I really missed you, Lexi. More and more as the summer went on. And as much as I wanted you to get help, I was also incredibly mad at myself. You’re my daughter, and I sent you away.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m not so sure I should have done that.”

I stay silent. I never thought I’d hear my mother say any of this.

“I spoke with Pastor Joe quite a bit. We talked a lot about family and priorities and letting our faith guide us instead of our fear. He asked me if I love you, and I said of course. Then he asked me if I love you
unconditionally
, even if this part of you never changed.”

I hold my breath.

“And I admit I didn’t answer that question as quickly. I really thought about it, because I did know it was a very real possibility, not just a hypothetical. And I realized there was only one truthful answer—of course I love you unconditionally.”

I let the breath out and realize I was digging my fingernails into the flesh of my thigh. I move my hands away and stare at the ten tiny commas etched into my skin.

“So,” Mom says, her hands tightly gripping the steering wheel, “I may not agree with it, and I’ll never
approve
of it or stop praying for you, but I’m really going to try to learn to live with it. Because we need to be in each other’s lives. If there’s anything this summer apart from each other has proven, I think it’s that.”

I take a breath to try to steady my voice. “Okay,” I manage.

“Can I ask a favor though?” Mom asks, her voice a little bit lighter now.

“Sure…”

“I don’t want you to lie to me anymore. Please don’t do that, but…maybe just bring up things on a need-to-know basis? At first, anyway. While I get used to the idea.”

I smile. “Okay, Mom. I won’t make you march in the parade until next year. But I think we should stop on the way home and pick up a rainbow flag for the front porch.”

She shoots me a look. “That’s not funny, Lexi.” But she’s smiling. Sort of.

We drive past a farm—black and white cows dot the green hills like sprinkles on an ice cream cone. I can’t wait to get back to the beach.

“You know,” Mom says after a minute, “your father always suspected.”

My heart stops. “Suspected?”

She nods. “That you were…this way. We talked about it. Well,
fought
about it.”

My head is spinning. “What…what did he say?”

“He thought we should tell you it was okay, that we’d support you no matter what. I couldn’t do it though. I didn’t want to believe it was true.” She looks at me out of the corner of her eye. “I made him promise he wouldn’t say anything to you.”

I
knew
he
didn’t know what he was talking about.
That’s what Mom said on the phone when I told her I thought the de-gayifying was working. She’d been talking about Dad.

Dad knew. He knew the whole time. And he loved me anyway.

Sneaky, unstoppable tears rush to my eyes.

We drive on in silence for a while.

After a couple of hours have gone by and I’m sure Carolyn’s left New Horizons, I clear my throat and say, “Mom, I have to make a call.”

“Go ahead.”

“It’s about something pretty serious. I think you should pull over.”

She looks at me questioningly but pulls off at the next exit and parks the car at a gas station.

I dial.

“911, what’s your emergency?” says the voice on the other end of the line.

“It’s not exactly an emergency, but I need to report several counts of child abuse and sexual harassment,” I say. Mom gasps, and I give her a little headshake to let her know that I’m okay, that I’m not the one who was victimized.

The dispatcher puts me in touch with the local law enforcement and I tell the police officer everything I know. It’s a long, difficult conversation, but by the end, I’m pretty confident that Mr. Martin is going to get everything he deserves.

***

We’re almost home when my phone rings. The number flashing on the display is unfamiliar. My heartbeat speeds up.

“Hello?”

“Lexi?” It’s Carolyn. She found my note.

I glance at Mom. She’s diligently watching the road, but we’re about two feet apart from each other, and the radio’s off—of course she’s going to hear every word I say. I wish I didn’t have to have this conversation, my first one with Carolyn away from the confines of New Horizons, in front of her. But I also promised Carolyn I wasn’t going to hide from my mother anymore. So here goes. “Hey,” I say softly.

“Hey. I miss you already.” There’s a muffled sound in the background, and then she says, “My parents say hi.”

I laugh. “Hi back.”

There’s so much to talk about. What my mom said. How things went with Carolyn’s parents and Mr. Martin. What she’s told her parents about me. My call to the police. Matthew’s note in
Gatsby
. The good-byes we never got to say in person. What the hell I’m going to tell everyone at school. How she and I are going to make this long-distance thing work.

But there will be time for that later. Right now, all I want is to sit here on the phone, knowing that even though Carolyn and I are driving further and further apart at this moment, we’re closer than we’ve ever been. Right now I want to just
be
.

“So,” I say.

“So,” she says back, and there’s a smile in her voice that makes my heart explode with heat and fire.

It actually feels a lot like lightning…only way better.