Page 1 of Faking Summer
prologue
Caroline
My mother meticulously arranged her fancy plates, each adorned with a delicate ivy pattern along the edges. These plates only surfaced from the depths of her china cabinet for occasions worth noting—and tonight was all about Charlotte, my older sister, who had just scaled another mountain on her path to becoming a doctor. She'd scored a 520 on her MCAT.
I watched silently as Mother placed the last gleaming fork beside the napkin which was folded into a perfect triangle. The clink of silverware served as a reminder of all the achievements that always played on repeat around here—Charlotte, the perfect child, and my brother Cooper, the baseball prodigy who had recently accepted a coaching position at a nearby college. He went pro for a few years, then blew out his knee, but luckily loves coaching. With every clink, I hear their accolades echo off the walls of our home and deep into my consciousness.
Hardly anyone noticed me as I took my seat at the dinner table. Typical Caroline, blending into the background. It was as though I was just another empty seat at the table.
Mom was gleaming with pride as she clasped her handstogether. "Today is such a special day," she announced, her voice swelling with emotion. "Charlotte is making her dreams come true, and we're all here to support her impressive accomplishments."
The words left no room for interpretation—this was Charlotte's moment, and by extension, Cooper's too. Their successes were always celebrated, always making my parents proud. I was the only one who didn’t make them proud, or so it seemed. But still, I was happy for Charlotte and Cooper. They were my siblings, after all, and I knew someday my success would come. At least I hoped so.
Charlotte leaned back in her chair with a soft smile. "Thank you," she said, her voice brimming with gratitude. "I couldn't have done it without my family." Laughter and praise was passed around the table along with the food, along with stories of her unwavering determination and the success of Cooper's team this season.
My mother turned to me, her gaze piercing, as if she'd only just remembered I was there. "So Caroline," she began, her tone deceptively casual, "anything exciting happening with you? Still 'just' teaching dance and cheerleading?" The way she said “just” made it sound like it wasn’t even a real job.
I straightened my spine, meeting her gaze with an assertive tilt of my chin. "As a matter of fact, yes, I’m still teaching," I replied, my voice steady despite her judging eyes. "I'm also still President of the Blue Devils’ committee, just like you and Charlotte were." I let the words hang in the air for a moment before continuing. "But you probably forgot all about that."
Cooper's hand collided with mine in a solid fist bump. "You go, girl," he said, his eyes crinkling with genuine pride. Unlike the others, Cooper's faith in me had always been unwavering, never judgmental.
"Oh, that's right," my mother said, her eyes scanning me, as if looking for something I had missed. "But tell me, Caroline, will you be dating this summer? Your aunts are always asking me when you're going to settle down." She paused, a delicate arch in her brow. "All of your cousins are married or engaged, on the right path. Yoursister is engaged. Your brother is married. The grandparents on your father’s side are starting to wonder if there’s something strange going on with you."
My parents met when they were sixteen, and their parents even earlier than that. They didn’t understand the dating world today. I could almost hear the whispers at family gatherings, feel the weight of their stares.
"Caroline doesn't date," my sister let out an obnoxious laugh.
I reached for my wine glass, fingers curling around the stem as I convinced myself to take a sip and not fling it at my sister. "And how would you know?" I asked.
"Because, darling Caroline," she began, her head tilted, lips pursed, "you have never brought anyone home. Not to any family event, nothing."
"Maybe I just like to keep things private," I said, shrugging. "And you’d all scare off anyone I brought home anyway, with your interrogation and high standards."
My gaze drifted beyond the confines of our dining room, wishing I was anywhere but here. I had plenty of time to date, to figure out if marriage is even something I wanted. But if I did bring someone home? Yeah… my family would scare them off in record time. The judgment. The unrealistic financial expectations. The whole “A real man should be able to support you” nonsense—when all I want is to support myself. It’s exhausting. And honestly? I wouldn’t blame anyone for never wanting to come back.
My mother and sister exchanged knowing glances. "We just want it to be someone successful and from a good family. You'll never be able to afford the lifestyle you want on your own," my mother chided. "You just graduated college, you’re about to turn twenty-two, and your father and I are not going to support you forever," she added, punctuating the sentence with a delicate sip of her wine.
I swallowed, refusing to let her get to me just before Charlotte chimed in. "Caroline, we know you’re not dating anyone. But maybeif you smiled every once in a while someone would want to." She shook her head slightly. "You don’t exactly scream approachable. No idea how you were a cheerleader all through high school and college.”
Not missing a beat, Cooper leaned forward, elbows on the table, and shot me a conspiratorial wink. "Nah, I think she’s perfect how she is." His words were a small relief amongst the skepticism hanging on the other side of the table.
The subtle dismissals faded away as Dad finally spoke up, casual and unaffected. He looked up from the glowing screen of his phone, which often seemed surgically attached to his palm, and announced with oblivious cheeriness, “Well, I’m ready for dessert—anyone else?” His eyes, usually so keen and observant when it came to his work, missed the tension that had settled around the table like an unwelcome guest.
I felt my shoulders drop, the weight of insignificance settling in. I pushed my chair back, the sound barely registering over the clinking of cutlery and the murmur of conversations. My words, attempting to carve out some space for myself, fell flat, not even gaining a glance in my direction. “I think I’m over dessert. I'm going to bed early.”
Mom was already rising to fetch the dessert she’d made, her hands reaching for the apple pie—Charlotte’s favorite, while Cooper and my dad talked about baseball.
The energy in the room never wavered, even as I turned and slipped away. As I made my way upstairs, the sounds of their joy was another reminder that, per usual, my absence didn’t make a difference.
one
Caroline,age 11
My pink glitter headphones rested around my neck, one ear free to keep me tethered to reality as I skipped to school with my best friends. Life was an open book with a happy ending, its pages untouched by the smudges of disillusionment. My hair, a blonde tangled mess secured in a high ponytail that swayed with each movement.
"Look," Sam breathed out, in awe. Her finger extended toward our classmates clustered at the front of our soon-to-be new kingdom: sixth grade.
A group of boys near us were particularly animated, their voices rising above the rest. A circle had formed around one bench, where one of the boys had his arm outstretched, revealing a gnarly scar that had impressed all the others.
