But here, with Hope smiling up at me and a stomach full of cake and a room stuffed with people who have never once judged me, I sing. Because I don’t have to. My voice. My choice.
My heart takes flight with the first lyric. I sing of drowning and sending floods. My own flood releases through the song, and soon I’m closing my eyes and getting lost in the melody. Hope joins in and we find our harmony.
It. Is. Glorious.
The room erupts in cheers, and a high I didn’t know existed encompasses my heart. Hope’s right. It’s going to be hard leaving this place, but we have to step out and do the things we fear most.
“Thanks, Brooke.” She gives one last glance toward the window before she passes the mic to someone else.
Jake and Mary take the makeshift stage next and sing a dance song from their generation. All the girls from Hope’s twelve to my almost eighteen kick off our shoes and move to the beat. We cha-cha-slide right and get jiggy with it. Because, as everyone knows, girls just want to have fun.
We’re on the floor with our sides splitting by the end. When’s the last time I laughed so hard I cried? A perfect day I would have thought impossible a year ago.
When the clock nears midnight, Hope’s dad gives her a hug and waves good-bye to the rest of us. She watches him go, then sneaks upstairs to her room instead of rejoining her own party. I catch Jake’s eye and she nods for me to follow my friend.
When I reach her door, a new kind of music begins to play.
Hope’s lamenting sobs trigger a memory.
There’s so much I want to say, but what would any of it matter right now? Hope’s mom didn’t come when that was all she wanted. The only birthday present she cared to find waiting at the door.
I retreat to my room and retrieve the thin, palm-size silver gift box tied with white ribbon. I grab the paper heart I’ve kept taped to my wall since the day I returned to Fathoms. Permanent marker in hand, I cover both the heart and the box, writing over the penciled lie of “nothing” Hope has believed about herself.
Worthy.
Valued.
Loved.
Twelve.
Friend.
Someone.
Something.
Everything.
The words cover every inch. Front and back. Top and bottom. I write until there’s no more room. I make my final statement in the form of a favorite quote. This is what Hope would do for me. Now it’s my turn.
“Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something else is more important than fear.”
I add a few flourishes, then slip the heart beneath her door, followed by the now-graffitied box.
I press my ear against the wood. Wait. It’s a few minutes before a different heart is returned to me. The once-blank space of nothing I handed her the first day we met now bears two words written in black ink.
Not alone.
I press the heart to my chest and say, “You too,” through the door. “Never.”
She doesn’t let me in, but I sit and lean against the barrier for a while. I slip my fingers under the crack so she knows I’m still here.
She’s never given up on me. Not when I pushed her away or tried to throw life to the sea.
So I stay.
I choose this. Now.
I choose after.
I can only have faith Hope will too.
Thirty
Merrick
“You’re going to see that girl again, aren’t you?”
Amaya planted her hands on her hips and blocked Merrick’s path to the door.
He grabbed two apples and a couple Gatorades for the road. “She’s helping me find Mom. I think we’re getting close.”
“Close to kissing.” Amaya made a face, then wiggled her eyebrows.
“It isn’t like that, Maya. Her grandma’s been around this town for years and agreed to let us go through her attic. She’s got old yearbooks and newspapers dating back decades.”
“Sure. Keep telling yourself that, big brother.”
“I will, thanks.”
Grim waltzed down the stairs dressed in clashing patterns of Hawaiian print. While his shorts were all green palms and orange sunsets, his shirt was hula girls and pink leis. A straw hat sat on top of his head, and he had zinc pasted beneath each eye and over the bridge of his nose. “You ready, birthday girl?”
“My birthday is next week.” She followed up with yet another face. She seemed to notice what he was wearing because she added, “You aren’t seriously going out dressed like that, are you?”
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” Confusion lighting his expression, Grim spread his arms and walked to the kitchen, treating the living room as his personal runway.
Amaya rolled her eyes. “Good thing Nikki’s not here to see this.”
“Didn’t I tell you, kiddo?” Grim asked. “Nikki’s meeting us at the beach.”
“And here I thought you wanted her to fall madly in love with you,” Amaya teased, batting her eyes.
“Why do you think I chose the ensemble, Maya girl? No one can resist the Grimsby charm!”
“And that’s where you’re wrong, big guy.” She jumped and snatched Grim’s hat. He growled and chased her around the kitchen island.
Amaya pretended to be annoyed, but the sparkle in her eyes told Merrick she’d have the perfect first Saturday of summer.
“Make sure she wears the zinc too,” Merrick called from the door. While he didn’t want his sister sunburned, he also wanted to remind them to keep her face disguised.
“She will go unseen,” Grim promised, tugging the hat back onto his head. “Plus, she’s got her own personal bodyguard.” He flexed his muscles. “She’ll be fine.”
Merrick nodded and rolled his eyes. “Tell Nik I said hi.”
“Will do, commander in chief.” Grim winked. “Now go get your girl.”
Merrick headed down the back steps that led to the beach. He’d almost protested that Coral wasn’t his girl. She was helping him investigate things around town. They’d been getting together every weekend over the past month. Now she was out of school and the real work could begin. It was coming together better than he’d hoped. She knew all the right questions to ask and had even come across a few locals who remembered his mom. He sensed they were closer than ever.
Which was the only reason he offered to take her out to lunch. To thank her. This wasn’t a date. Just two friends—partners—who happened to be eating lunch together. No big deal.
This time of year was his favorite. The sleepy tourist town no longer sat idly by as the rest of the world turned along without it. Businesses boomed with the sounds of bells over doors and the laughter of old friends meeting up for brunch.
The past few weekends ran through his thoughts. At first Coral remained distant. But the more time they spent together, the more she softened.
She was so easy to talk to. Did she feel the same about him?
Merrick neared the tea shop on his left—his mom’s favorite place to come when they were kids. She’d brought him and Amaya several times over the summer breaks. They’d sit in the window booth looking out over the street. His mom would sip a cup of tea while Amaya and Merrick devoured the homemade scones and jam.