It’s a funny thing about girls.
Sometimes they seem to forget.
Other times they seem to remember.
The final week of summer school is fine, but fine isn’t on the same level as wonderful. Fine is riding in the backseat with your friends going somewhere fun. Wonderful is riding on your motorcycle with your girlfriend’s body draped around you.
Somehow it seems like my some kind of wonderful has turned into some kind of okay. Not because of anything Lily does, but what she doesn’t do. The whole day we spent together never gets acknowledged. Not that I want a personal write-up of her thoughts and feelings about July 4—although actually, come to think of it, that would be some kind of wonderful.
Instead I get the ordinary passing of time.
Occasionally she texts me, but even this isn’t particularly memorable.
The call I receive on Thursday, however, is quite memorable. And surprising.
I pick up the home phone, thinking it’s Lily, but a part of me should have known. Wouldn’t she be calling my cell phone now that she has that number?
The voice on the other end surprises me. It’s too high to be Lily’s, too soft and too unsure of itself.
“It’s Kelsey,” she says, helping to remind me.
“Hey, yeah, how are you?”
“Good.”
“Great.”
Awkward.
“My father said he saw you last week.”
“Yeah,” I say. “Are you back from your trip?”
“Yes.”
“Cool.”
Uncomfortable.
“I just wanted to see if you got my messages,” she says.
“Yeah, I did. I’m sorry I haven’t called.”
“It’s okay. I just was checking. I would’ve emailed, but I just thought—”
“No, it’s—I should’ve called back. I’m sorry, really. I’ve been busy with summer school and, you know—”
Summer school and girls named Lily …
“Sure, no problem,” Kelsey says.
There’s a pause that seems thirty minutes long. Then we both start to say something, then both pause, and do the go-ahead thing.
Why’d I pick up why?
“So are you like, uh, working this summer?” I finally get out.
“I’m working out at the Asheville Racquet Club.”
“Oh. I didn’t know you played.”
“Harrington doesn’t have much of a team, but I play in different leagues. I help run programs with kids for the summer.”
“That’s cool.”
“You like tennis?”
I can’t remember the last time I held a racquet in my hand.
“Sure.”
“Maybe we can play sometime,” Kelsey says.
“Sure.”
“When you’re not stuck in a classroom. Or on your motorcycle.”
I laugh, but overall this is a fail of a phone call.
And once again …
Silence.
“Well, you know, I just—” Kelsey starts to say, then pauses. “Just wanted to say hi, since I didn’t get a chance to see you much at the end of the year.”
After prom, she’s surely thinking.
After that dance, she’s probably wanting to say.
“Yeah, sorry, it’s just, yeah.”
Those aren’t exactly the words I’m wanting to say.
Kelsey says a quick good-bye, and I hang up. For a moment I look at the phone.
It’s just, yeah.
What kind of moronic statement was that?
I sigh and feel bad. I feel bad for never even bothering to say anything after prom. Granted, I had some other issues going on with my life.
Issues someone like sweet Kelsey doesn’t need to know about.
Her voice is a reminder of last year. Of everything that happened.
Of all the things I’m desperately trying to forget.
I stand there feeling like a moron for a few moments until a text comes on my cell.
ONE MORE DAY OF SUMMER SCHOOL. WHATEVER WILL I DO WITH THE REST OF MY SUMMER?
It’s from Lily, who’s obviously being sarcastic. It’s good to hear from her. It’s good to hear from my summer life so I can forget about my spring self. Perhaps my summer life will result in a fall guy that I like a lot more than that kid talking on the phone with Kelsey, fumbling over his words and feeling like an idiot.
I spend the next hour texting Lily. We could be talking or hanging out, but at the moment this is still better than anything else I can think of.