On June 1, 2014, you realize that you like me.
I remember that day differently so your confession startles me, fresh ice on sleepy skin. We’re fifteen that year, lounging on the beach. You were drying off from a quick swim, your wet head on my lap. The ocean trickles between my thighs from your scalp, a cool feeling that I welcome in the face of the blazing sun.
You’re telling me a story from The Before, drawing a stick figure of your ten-year-old self in the sand. I listen with rapt attention as you describe how you were bullied.
It starts with a school trip to a museum. You don’t remember which museum, but you recall spaceships and moon rocks. Someone thought it was a good idea to put a whoopie cushion on your seat and the loud fart that everyone hears earns you the nickname “Smelly Ellie.” If that wasn’t bad enough, you’re partnered with a gross boy in class who soils his pants on that same day.
From then on, everyone avoids you in class. No one would sit with you at lunch or raise their hands to do group work with you. Not even that gross kid who cemented your awful nickname on that stupid school trip.
“Children are cruel. Everyone goes through it. Well, at least I did,” I admit, sympathizing with your plight.
“Why would anyone want to hurt you?”
Your question is kind, but if you saw life through my eyes, you would know that the real question was why wouldn’t someone hurt me?
Bullies pick on the weak and a year ago, being the girl with a dead father made me irresistible to the cruel. I tell you that they don’t tease me anymore, but I still hear people whisper behind my back. What they say exactly, I don’t want to know.
Regardless, people are nicer to me, probably because I’m friends with someone pretty like you. I would tell you this, but for some reason, you don’t like that word. That’s not to say you were anywhere near as insecure as I was, but something about being called “pretty” was demeaning to you.
You liked your body. When I’m in your room, I catch you staring at the mirror more times than you would like to admit. You’ve called yourself sexy multiple times when I’m within earshot, half-joking and half-serious. Later, I would find out that I liked your body too. But I didn’t really know that day on the beach.
I should have. In hindsight, it was obvious. My first clue was the jealousy. I didn’t like the way the boys on the beach stared at you. A few of them were our age, but most of them were older. It gave me the creeps and I scowled at all the ones that made eye contact.
You didn’t like the way they stared at you either so you wore a white t-shirt over your bikini.
I tried to build sandcastles to distract myself from the discomfort. Their attention wasn’t even directed toward me, but something about their eyes made me squirm.
“Let’s go into the water.” You held your hand out to me. “We can build sandcastles later.”
We ran to the shore, taking in the vast sea. With your encouragement, I waded the waters, avoiding the shard of broken seashells and tangles of seaweed.
The last time I was here, I had a complete family. Mother and father - the full package. As I went deeper into the sea, I realized that I had you.
The water reached my waist and I stood, mashing the sand between my toes. That didn’t stop you from going further. You looked back, flashing a blinding white smile.
"Scared? The water feels good. Come in deeper.”
If you told me to jump off a bridge, I would do it. I bit back my fear as the sea closed in around me. I kept going until I was neck deep, with the water draped over my shoulders.
“I can’t go farther than this.” A passing wave threatened to slap my face.
You glided toward me, practically a mermaid in her element.
“Relax and lie on your back,” you coaxed. You held your arms out. “You won’t drown if I’m here to catch you.”
I obliged, with your arms firmly tucked beneath me. For someone so slender, you have a surprising amount of muscle.
"Your back is tense. Think happy thoughts."
I smelled the coconut sunscreen on your skin and relaxed. You were closer to me than you’ve ever been and my pulse raced in response.
Before I knew it, I was floating. You don’t tell me that you took your arms away, but you beamed at me with pride.
I felt light. Indeed, I could float like this forever. What had I been so afraid of?
Then, a hand grabbed my stomach and pulled me under. It happened so swiftly that I didn’t think to struggle. Eventually, my instincts kicked in and I was screaming underwater.
I was here before, losing air faster than a deflating balloon. Two years ago, I almost drowned. The lifeguard on duty fell asleep on the beach and a stranger saved my life instead. My father attempted to do the same, but he didn’t make it and we lost his body to the sea.
Maybe I’ll finally get to see him again.
I’m pulled back up just as quickly as I was pushed under. You held me close, helping me cough up the water in my lungs.
“Are you ok?”
I nodded numbly, shaken by the experience.
You turned away from me. “Why did you do that? She can’t swim, you dumbass.”
That’s when I noticed the boy next to us, grinning like he’d just won a prize. I recognized him from our school, but I’ve known him for longer than that.
Instantly, I knew why he did that. When news broke out of my father’s death, he was one of the first people to start the bullying. I would recognize Evan Cummings from a mile away.
“She shouldn’t have been out so far if she couldn’t swim,” he sneered. I glared at him, but his expression quickly morphed into fake friendliness when he turned to you.
“Look, I didn’t mean to scare you ladies. It was a harmless prank. My boys and I were placing bets. Let me make it up to you.”
He placed his hand on your shoulder. In a twisted way, he had been trying to impress you.
You swatted his hand away. “Don’t hurt Nana ever again. Do you hear me?”
His face fell. “It was just a joke. Right, Nana?”
He didn’t even have the decency to look remorseful. “Choke on a dick, Evan. I hate you.”
“C’mon, you’re not even hurt,” he whined. “Elle, I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing to me? I wasn’t the one you tried to drown. Nana, let’s get out of here.”
You grabbed our towels and we headed for the boardwalk. Evan trailed behind for a bit, but he left after a few paces, summoned by his friends elsewhere.
I bought us two scoops of ice cream, strawberry for me and chocolate for you. We stood in the shade, idly licking our treats.
“How did you know you liked me then?”
You give me a secret smile after I tell you how I saw that fateful day.
“Because if I hadn’t stepped in, I could have lost you for good. I was thinking about how unbearable life would be without you when we were eating ice cream.”
The irony of your words hit me with full force as I lay on the bed of my new room. I should have been the one scared of losing you, but you seemed invincible at times. Some days, you were the literal embodiment of the sun, effortlessly shining.
I’m the weaker one out of the two of us. So why am I still here?
Maybe you’ve taken your light somewhere else. I shudder to think what else could have happened to you.
Because I wasn’t the only one who liked you. Hell, I was hardly the only one to want you.
What if one of those boys took it a step too far? The lurid drama played out in my mind. I imagined you pregnant, rushed to a convent to avoid the visible shame of teen pregnancy. It would be something your mother would do.
But on the days leading up to your disappearance, you showed no sign of that. In fact, you were on your period.
The truth eluded me. I replayed our memories in vain.
Elle, if you’re out there, send me a sign.
ns 15.158.61.20da2
