Page 53 of The Summer List

She turns away from me and wades over to the far side of the hot tub. She hovers under the water with her hands gripping the edge for a moment before she clears her throat.

“I’m, um, getting out now.”

I realize she doesn’t want me looking at her.

My eyes sting, but I turn my back to her and stammer, “Right. Uh, yeah. Not looking.”

I squeeze my eyes shut. My throat burns as I listen to the slap of her wet feet on the concrete as she heads for her towel.

“Naomi,” I say, spinning around to face her once she’s got her towel on.

She’s already halfway to the kitchen door. I watch her yank it open. I can’t tell if she didn’t hear me or if she’s ignoring me, but either way, she slips inside without looking back.

CHAPTER 14

Naomi

We’re only halfway to the water park, and I’m already considering jumping out of a moving car.

One of Shal’s Bollywood playlists has been filling the silence for the better part of an hour. Shal herself is the only person in the car who’s said more than a couple sentences the whole trip.

Priya declared she slept badly and sandwiched a pillow up against the passenger side window as soon as we pulled out of the driveway. I don’t know how anyone could sleep through the blasting music, but she’s done a good job at pretending for most of the ride.

She also did a good job at pretending to sleep when I knocked on the door of her guest bedroom last night to make yet another attempt at talking through the mess between us.

I made that mess infinitely worse when I texted her a couple days ago to ask why she hadn’t told me about the guy from her music class and if she plans on telling me when they start dating or if that’s going to be a secret too.

She said my reaction is exactly why she didn’t tell me in the first place.

I asked what she meant.

She said that should be obvious.

We’ve had pretty much the exact same conversation a half dozen times since then, and each one has made me more and more sure I’ve gotten things catastrophically wrong in the one friendship that’s made me feel like I can do things right.

If the tension radiating from Priya in the passenger seat weren’t enough to have me ready to eject myself out of this car, there’s also the heavy silence from the seat behind me adding to the experience.

Andrea claimed the back bench instead of taking the bucket seat next to mine like she has every other time we’ve been in the van together. I don’t know when she ate breakfast, but she was locked up in her room until Shal called her downstairs once the rest of us were ready to leave.

I watch the endless miles of Canadian forest lining the highway fly by outside the window, but I can’t stop seeing Andrea’s face in the hot tub last night, so close to mine I could almost feel her breath on my lips.

So close I almost kissed her.

She didn’t ask me to kiss her, and as much as I felt like she was leaning in too, what’s happened with Priya has shown me I can’t trust myself to understand what people want.

If I’m too much for Priya, I’m sure as hell too much for Andrea. We barely know each other, and I was already blabbing about myself so much last night I almost slipped and told her my therapist thinks I’m not neurotypical.

I haven’t told anyone about that, and Andrea certainly didn’t ask for a confession. Sure, she said we’re friends, but that was just to check off a stupid bucket list item. I’m the one taking things too far, and soon I’ll be making her feel trapped just like I’ve done to Priya.

“Oooh does anybody want Slushies?” Shal asks as she reaches to turn the music down. “There’s a rest stop coming up, and I bet they have them.”

“I’m not really hungry,” I say when nobody else answers, “but if you want one, we should stop.”

“You don’t have to be hungry to get a Slushie,” she says. “It’s a summer road trip staple. Hey, Pri, wake up! We’re getting Slushies.”

She gives her sister’s arm a nudge, and Priya’s answering groan is groggy enough for me to believe she really did fall asleep.

“Maybe Slushies will cheer you grumpy little babies up enough to make this trip actually fun. Me and the trusty Dabangg soundtrack can only do so much on our own,” she says with a nod at the stereo.

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