As we approach the lake, Dennis makes a few turns and then pulls off onto a gravel road that I’ve never noticed before.
I ask why we’re going this way.
“We’re actually not going to Lake Eola,” Zoey says. “We need a place a little more hidden.”
“Great,” I mutter.
Katy pats my hand. It doesn’t help.
A good ten minutes later we turn off the road and into a little parking lot area with a lot of trees. I can’t even see the lake from here. Besides us, there are only four other cars.
“I thought it would be more crowded,” I say as we get out of the car.
“Well, it is a Monday night,” Megan says.
“Dennis,” Zoey says, swinging the bag over her shoulder. “You can stay with the car if you want.” She is clearly hoping he’ll agree.
He shakes his head. I’m actually kind of relieved. It’s very dark out.
“Suit yourself,” Zoey says. “But you’re not sitting with us.” She gestures for us to follow her and heads right into the woods.
“No way,” I say, stopping at the edge of the parking lot. “There could be snakes in there.”
“There are no snakes,” Megan says, pushing me forward. “It’s only a two-minute walk.” Everyone else is already far ahead so I see no choice but to follow. The leaves and branches crunching under my feet make me very glad I’m wearing thick sneakers. I’m also glad I’m wearing jeans and not shorts. God knows what kinds of creepy, crawly things are in here. Everyone else is laughing and having a grand time trampling through the woods in the dark. I wish I could be like that. I don’t care what Rob said, I wish there was a full moon. That way it wouldn’t be so dark and every tree wouldn’t look like something out of a nightmare.
My eyes are just starting to adjust to the dark when we step out into a big clearing. About fifty feet in front of us sits a lake not as big as Eola, but I can still only barely see the other side of it. The surface of the water reflects the trees around it and the stars and moon above.
“See?” Zoey says. “Wasn’t it worth the scary walk through the woods?”
I grudgingly agree. It’s much lighter here because scattered around the beachfront are small bonfires with groups of two to four people around them.
Zoey points to one with two boys. “There they are,” she says, and starts walking toward them, the bag bouncing on her shoulder. Megan hurries after her, and Dennis wanders off to start his own bonfire on the other side of the clearing.
“Who are these people?” I ask Katy as we trudge slowly behind Zoey and Megan.
“Zoey met one of them a few weeks ago. They go to Orlando South.”
I walk even slower. Hanging out with strange guys doesn’t exactly thrill me. “Katy, in case this is our last moment alone, remember that you promised to give me that note tonight. Or at least tell me what was in it.”
“I know. You haven’t let me forget for a second.”
We reach the bonfire and sit down on the hard-packed sand. Zoey introduces us to Marc and Justin, juniors at Orlando South. I prefer to think of them as Joe and Shmo. They are both blond, very preppy, and judging by the empty beer bottles next to them, not very sober. Megan is sitting very close to Shmo, so I can only assume that Joe is the one Zoey likes.
“They were supposed to bring two friends,” Zoey explains as she unzips her backpack.
“It’s really okay,” Katy insists.
“Yes,” I add. “No problem at all.” Even though my infatuation with Grant has been severely tested this afternoon, I’m relieved I don’t have to deal with being set up with anyone.
The first thing Zoey pulls out of her bag is a huge Hershey’s chocolate bar. Maybe the big ritual is making s’mores, and they got me all nervous for nothing. Zoey rests the chocolate on her leg and reaches back into the bag. This time she pulls out a stack of plastic cups and a tall dark bottle. I lean closer and read the label.
HIRAM WALKER BLACKBERRY BRANDY
. The last time I checked, s’mores were made with chocolate, graham crackers, and marshmallows. No brandy anywhere in the ingredients. Katy and I exchange glances. The only alcohol we’ve ever had was champagne on New Year’s Eve once with Katy’s parents. Megan doesn’t seem surprised to see the brandy. She must have been in on it.
Zoey passes a cup to each of us and unscrews the top of the brandy bottle. “First we need to toast Josie’s fourth birthday.”
“Huh?” Joe says. “How can it be her fourth birthday?” “Because my birthday is today,” I explain. “February twenty-ninth.”
“I don’t get it,” Shmo says.
“You know, Leap Day? Only once every four years?”
“Ohhh,” Joe says. “Cool.”
“That sucks,” Shmo says. “You’re not gonna be twenty-one for, like, ever.”
“It’s a burden,” I sigh dramatically. “But I’ve learned to live with it.”
Katy punches me and I try not to laugh.
“Okay, enough of that,” Zoey admonishes us. “We have to get down to business.” She stands up and goes around the circle, filling each of our cups halfway.
I bring the cup to my nose and sniff it. Kind of fruity.
“Wait,” Megan says. “Don’t forget the chocolate.”
“Oh yeah.” Zoey hurries to unwrap the big bar. Then she breaks off a little piece and drops one in each of our cups. “This is supposed to make it taste better. To Josie,” she says, holding her cup out in front of her. “Happy birthday to one of the best people I know.”
Aw, shucks. We all tap our cups together, except for the boys who are already guzzling theirs down. I tentatively bring the cup to my lips and peek over the edge to watch my friends. Megan and Zoey have already taken a sip and have almost identical grimaces on their faces. I turn to Katy.
“Bottoms up,” she says and takes a big swig. Then she grabs her throat and says something that sounds like, “
Achachahhhh.
”
Not very inspired by anyone’s reactions, I take a very small sip and then a slightly larger one. It burns my throat a little, but feels slightly warm too. It sure tastes bad though. Megan and Zoey are both forcing themselves to take some more sips, but Katy and I have put ours down in the sand. I reach in and pull out the chocolate to suck on. It didn’t seem to help the taste of the brandy. And the taste of the brandy sure hasn’t helped the taste of the chocolate. I toss it into the fire where it quickly melts into a brown puddle.
“Anyone got any cigarettes?” Joe asks.
To my great surprise, Megan digs into her sweatshirt pocket and pulls out a pack of Marlboro Lights. She hands them to Joe.
“Since when did you start smoking?” I ask her. “Belle does not smoke.”
“Why would a bell smoke?” Shmo asks.
I’m about to answer but decide it’s not worth it.
Megan says, “Don’t worry, I’m not smoking.”
“I’ll try one,” Zoey says. Joe pulls one out and hands it to her. “Does anyone have any matches?” Joe asks. “Or a lighter?” “You don’t have any?” Katy asks. “How did you start the fire?” “We used a match. But after we lit the fire we threw the pack in to watch them pop.”
Zoey solves the problem by sticking the end of her cigarette directly into the fire. She pulls it out and the entire bottom half is black.
“Hurry and toke on it,” Joe instructs her. “Or it won’t catch.” She puts the cigarette to her lips and inhales deeply. The end catches just like Joe said it would. But Zoey’s face turns bright red. I’m waiting for the smoke to come out of her mouth. Suddenly she starts coughing and hacking and her eyes water. Megan leans over and pounds her on the back. Zoey waves her off, holding her throat.
“Will a sip of this help?” Joe asks, holding out the brandy. “Uh, I don’t think so,” Katy says.
Zoey finally stops coughing and buries the cigarette in the sand. “Well, that’s one dirty habit I won’t be picking up.”
“Why don’t we go walk it off?” Joe suggests.
“Yeah,” Shmo says, glancing at Megan. “We should get her away from the smoky fire.”
“Is that okay?” Megan asks Katy and me. “We’ll just be gone a few minutes.”
“Take your time,” I tell them. “Katy and I can entertain ourselves.”
“You’re sure?” Zoey asks, slowly getting to her feet.
“Go.”
As soon as the four of them are out of earshot, I tell Katy, “I thought they’d never leave. So tell me, tell me, tell me.”
Katy suggests we go down by the water, so I follow her to a dry patch near the edge, and we sit. She proceeds to untie and tie the shoelaces of both her sneakers.
“C’mon, Katy. I’m not getting any younger.”
“I’m just trying to think of how to say it.”
“Would it help if I guess?”
“I don’t know.”
“All right. Let me try.” I think for a minute and then ask, “Are you moving?”
She shakes her head.
“Thank god,” I say. That had been my biggest fear. As much as I like Megan and Zoey, I would die if Katy left. I try another guess. “Are you doing drugs?”
“No.”
“Did you steal something and get caught?”
“No.”
“Are you pregnant?” I ask, laughing as I say it since I know that’s not possible, unless Orlando is due for a virgin birth. But Katy isn’t saying no. A tightness grips my chest and I grab her arm. “Katy, are you pregnant?”
“No, no, I’m not pregnant,” she says.
I let out a deep breath. I’ve never been so happy to hear the word “no” before.
Then she adds, “It’s pretty much the opposite of pregnant.”
“Huh? What’s the opposite of pregnant?”
She closes her eyes and says in a voice so soft I have to lean in to hear, “I have a crush on a teacher.”
I laugh with relief. “Is that all? What’s the big deal? You know I have a crush on Mr. Simon!”
“It’s different,” she says.
“Why is it different? Who is it, Principal Harrison? He’s kinda old, but he’s not bad looking, I guess.”
She shakes her head and sighs. “It’s Ms. Connors.”
My jaw falls open. Katy reaches over and shuts it for me. My eyes are open so wide they feel too big for their sockets. Her words float out over the lake. I picture them hanging there, suspended in mid-air. My brains searches for things to say.
“But she’s like... she’s a... she’s a woman,” I stammer.
“I’ve noticed,” Katy says, digging in the sand with a stick.
I still feel like I’m not hearing her correctly. Just to point out the obvious, I ask, “What about that time in the coat room in sixth grade when you kissed that kid Billy Something who moved to New Jersey?” My arms flail about in the air as I search for more examples of why Katy isn’t gay. “Okay, and you went to second base with that boy you met at the Museum of Natural History last summer in New York.
Also,
” I continue, my voice rising, “Jeff Grand wanted to ask you to the prom before he found out sophomores can’t ask people.”
“He did?”
Even in the dark I can tell she’s pleased. “Yes,” I reply.
“Before this whole thing, I didn’t think I was gay either,” Katy says, jabbing the stick hard into the sand. “I’m very confused. I mean, I did like those two guys. And I even like Jeff Grand a little.”
I stand up and sit back down for no good reason. I am very aware that this is a hugely important conversation and I don’t want to say anything stupid. I have to focus. I have to help her sort through this. It’s like with the little girl at Disney this afternoon. It’s so important to listen to the words between the words. The words that aren’t being said. I lean back on my heels and ask, “Are you
attracted
to Ms. Connors? Like in a sexual way?”
She doesn’t answer right away. Then she sighs and says, “I don’t know. I look forward to her class every day. I like watching her teach. She’s so free and confident and everything.”
“It sounds like you admire her and want to be like her,” I point out, hoping I’m not just grasping aimlessly. “Like I might admire Alyssa Levy’s breasts, but I wouldn’t want to kiss her.”
She looks up at me. “That girl in our gym class?”
“You’re missing the point.”
“No, I get what you’re trying to say. I hadn’t thought of it that way before.”
“But if you do want to kiss her,” I begin, feeling this is an important point I need to get across, “if you do want to, then you can tell me.”
“I’ll have to think about that,” Katy says. I wait for her to say more but she just sits there, lost in thought. At least her shoulders aren’t hunched up anymore. Finally she says, “Thank you for being so cool about this. I was so scared to tell you.”
“Don’t be scared to tell me anything. I’m your best friend no matter what.” Hey, if I can handle what happened with Dad today at Disney World, I can handle this.
“Aw, shucks,” Katy says, in a southern drawl. “You’re not gonna hug me now, are ya?”
“Very funny.”
“It’s weird,” Katy says. “Now that two people know it doesn’t seem like such a big deal.”
“Are you serious? You told Ms. Connors you have a crush on her?” Oh, that can’t have been good.
“No! Of course not,” Katy says. “I mean you and Mrs. Lombardo in the school office. She read it in my note. You gave it to her this morning.”
“What? No, I didn’t! I gave your note back to you when you tackled me in the hall.”
“No, you didn’t. You gave me your mother’s note excusing you from school. You gave
my
note to Mrs. Lombardo.”
Once again, she shocks me. My jaw drops. I throw my hand over my mouth. “You’re kidding me!”
“I kid you not.”
I feel the laughter rising up from inside me and we both fall onto our backs in the sand. I laugh until my stomach aches.
In between giggles, Katy asks, “You don’t think she’ll tell Ms. Connors, do you?”
I shake my head, not even minding the sand that’s now ground into my hair. “Mrs. Lombardo must have secrets on every kid in school. She’s like a tomb.”
“What are you guys laughing about?” Zoey says, approaching with Megan. I hadn’t even heard them approaching. I hope they didn’t hear anything else. Katy and I quickly stand up and brush the sand off ourselves.
Katy answers hurriedly, “An old
Seinfeld
rerun I watched last night when I couldn’t fall asleep.”
“Oh,” Megan says. “I never really got that show.”
Katy looks visibly relieved that they bought her excuse. She looks back and forth between the two of them and says, “So, it looks like you guys had a good time. Nice hickey, Megan.”