Between Sophomore and Junior Years
“Promise me you’ll be careful,” Lila says, clutching the backpack full of contraband to her chest. The contraband being wine coolers she agreed to buy for Grace, Max, and me.
I bounce on my tiptoes like a little girl. “I promise.”
“You won’t do anything stupid?”
“What, like strip down and roll in a mud puddle?”
“Yeah. Or talk to older men, or get in a fight.”
“None of that sounds like stuff I’d do.”
My sister gives me a long look.
Since before I was born, Manchester has hosted a music festival called Bonnaroo.
Manchester is halfway between Nashville and Chattanooga, halfway between Memphis and Knoxville, halfway between Atlanta and Louisville.
The town is near a U.S. Air Force base and has a bunch of fast food restaurants and hotels, but hardly anything ever happens. Except for in the summer. People travel from all over the United States—and the world—to set up camp, drink tons of beer, smoke weed, and listen to music, all on a huge piece of farmland only a few miles from Dad’s dental practice.
Bonnaroo attracts plenty of older acts my parents love (they went bonkers when Elton John was here), but also younger musicians like Lorde and The Weeknd.
Bonnaroo is a big deal.
Now that we’ve turned sixteen, Grace, Max, and I are finally allowed to attend by ourselves.
My cousin hugs me from behind. “Lu!” Then she gives Lila a big hug too.
Lila looks up at Max, who’s wearing a white tee, green cargo shorts, and a pair of yellow suspenders meant to look like a tape measure. “You keep getting taller and more handsome! Guys are gonna be all over you here.”
Max grins politely, but I’m sure he’s secretly thinking about Caleb, who’s here somewhere with his friends. Maybe we’ll run into them later tonight. Caleb probably won’t go out of his way to find Max, because they haven’t told anyone else they’re together.
“Y’all take care of each other tonight, okay?” Lila says. “And text if you need me. I’m meeting up with some high school friends.”
Max, Grace, and I hurry off with the contraband backpack, excitedly looking for a place to sit. Not too close to the main stage, but not too far away either. We wave at people from school and around town. The sun is beginning to set, and pretty soon, it’ll be difficult to see the ground.
Groups of people have already staked out spots on the grass and are eating, drinking, and passing around joints. All I can smell is weed and manure.
Some police and security are here, but so far no one has confronted the pot smokers.
As soon as we pick our spot, we spread out a picnic blanket. Then Grace and I ditch our T-shirts we left home in, revealing the super cute strapless halter tops our parents would never have allowed us to wear. We take a selfie together, making kissy faces. Max squeezes between us for a group picture, sticking his tongue out.
After a quick look around for (1) police officers and (2) Mom’s church lady friends, we crack open the wine coolers Lila bought us.
“Cheers,” we say, clinking our bottles together.
A single guitar chord rings out in the night. We jump up and down, cheering and dancing.
Max throws a fist in the air. “Wooo!”
Large bonfires fill the air with smoke. Drums begin to play. The guitarist goes wild.
Grace and I dance our asses off, my hair swinging around my body. I feel alive.
And that’s when it happens.
Dana Jenkins appears and dances her way over to me. “Lulu, you got moves!” Dana shouts over the music. “Grace, why didn’t you ever tell us she can dance?”
“She’s my cousin, of course she dances,” Grace shouts back.
If Dana’s here, then that means Marcie isn’t far behind. And if Dana and Marcie are here…I begin to lose the beat. My body starts to slow—
Ryan appears, carrying a six-pack.
And Alex strolls up behind him, one hand deep in his shorts pocket, the other holding a dark brown glass bottle.
We haven’t spoken in a while. Not since he chewed me out at Six Flags. I stopped by his locker the morning after the field trip to apologize for getting him in trouble, but he slammed his locker door and stalked off like he didn’t hear me.
Two more times, I tried again to say I was sorry. Each time he looked right through me like I wasn’t there. Then he stopped liking my posts online.
He never apologized.
I’d given this boy ten months of my life, and either he didn’t understand how badly he’d hurt my heart, or he didn’t care.
At Bonnaroo, my anger simmers like a volcano fixing to erupt.
Ryan comes up behind Grace, places a hand on her hip, and speaks over her shoulder. “Dance with me?”
She takes his free hand as he sips his beer, and they begin to dance. They’ve been friends a long time, but ever since they disappeared at Six Flags together, they seem to be getting closer and closer. Every time I ask what’s going on with them, though, Grace waves a dismissive hand and says, “We’re having fun. Nothing serious.”
Grace and Ryan move farther and farther from Max and me, drifting away. Soon they’re dancing right beside Alex and Marcie.
Dana, Marcie, and Grace are on the dance team together, so they start matching one another’s moves and laughing. Alex and Ryan join in.
When Marcie and Alex start getting handsy, I feel like I’m going to be sick.
My feet stop dancing. I never knew anything could make me feel this bad. “God, I hate him.”
Max shoots him a dirty look. “Me too, but we’re not letting him ruin Bonnaroo for us, okay? You’ve got to let him go.”
Easier said than done. I hate being the friend who’s always down in the dumps, but right now, it’s hard to be anything but. My first boyfriend—my first love—is dancing in front of me with another girl.
When Marcie sees me staring at their naughty moves, she pulls away from Alex and whispers in his ear. I can’t hear what she said—the music is thumping so loudly, but he looks up at me, appearing a little sheepish. As she looks into my eyes, her forehead scrunches up in apology. Alex points the other direction over his shoulder and takes her hand, and Marcie begins to follow him away.
Which is worse? Seeing them together in front of me, or wondering what they’re doing all alone? Does he take her to his favorite bridge overlooking the interstate and slow dance along to his truck radio like we used to?
A guitar hits a piercing high note.
Ryan walks after Alex and Marcie, tugging Grace with him, but Grace shakes her head, gesturing in my direction.
“C’mon, Lu,” Ryan calls out over the loud music, swaying back and forth. “Why can’t you and Alex get over yourselves and hang out together? It sucks that we’re all stuck between you.”
“Yeah, it does suck,” I snap. “But I’m not gonna be miserable just so everyone else can have a good time.” The crowd cheers as the band finishes its song. “Y’all can do whatever you want, but I’m gonna stay right here and enjoy the music.”
“And drink these shitty wine coolers,” Grace adds, draping an arm around me. I feel a surge of love for my cousin. A couple of years ago, she would’ve abandoned me for him. She’s changed so much.
“Fine, whatever,” Ryan says. “Grace, text me if you change your mind.”
He jogs after Alex, nearly tripping in a dirt divot. How many beers has he drunk?
I chug from my bottle, wishing wine coolers were stronger. Wafting bonfire smoke stings my eyes.
“I’m so mad,” I say to my friends. “This night was supposed to be fun. Why can’t I start over?”
“Because you loved him,” Max says.
Loved. Love? I don’t know. “I wish I hadn’t told him,” I say through tears. “I wasted those words.”
Grace gnaws at her fingernails, like she does when nervous.
“What is it?” I say.
“Lu, I have something to tell you, but it’s going to upset you. Still, you deserve to know.”
I hold my breath.
“Ryan told me…he said that when you told Alex you loved him, it freaked him out. Alex is so dead set on getting out of this town, to go play baseball somewhere, he couldn’t handle the idea of settling down.”
I bite my lip. “He thought my saying ‘I love you’ would make him have to settle down?”
It’s a hot summer evening, but I’m shivering. I put my T-shirt back on over my halter top. “I’m glad I told him I loved him and got it out there. Otherwise I’d probably still be wasting my time with him, waiting for him to say it first.”
Max cuddles me against his chest. “I want you to be happy. Whatever that means. But you’re so much more than Alex’s girlfriend. You’re everything, you know?”
“I know.”
“Alex is not worth you being depressed. He’s the one missing out. You are too much of a badass to let this get to you.”
“You’re my favorite cousin,” Grace says.
“And my best friend,” Max adds.
“A great writer.”
“A lover of animals!”
I point my wine cooler up toward the night sky. “The garden girl!”
“Wooo!” Max screams as the crowd roars.
The three of us collapse onto the picnic blanket, and Grace and I snuggle against Max’s shoulders. Tears pool in my eyes, and I swipe them away.
I do everything I can to push thoughts of Alex and Marcie out of my mind. I concentrate on the deafening drum beat. Watch smoke drift in patterns across the sky. Search for answers in the stars.
The band’s lead singer starts singing lyrics about loving yourself.
I need to do that more.
I don’t tell my friends this, but I decide something right then and there: love hurts too much.
I never want to experience this pain again.