• • • • •
With my shoulders tense, I take a deep breath and knock. The door swings opens, and Seth stands there.
I gulp. “Hi.”
“Hi,” he says.
“You look like yourself.”
Seth laughs. “I hope so.”
I shake my head. “I mean, you look so much better than the other night.”
“The night I almost died, you mean?”
I clear my throat. “Yeah. That night.”
I stand there. In my nicer clothes. He stands there. In shorts and a T-shirt. Looking at me.
“Why you all dressed up?”
I suddenly regret wanting to dress up. But I wanted to make a special evening out of the fact that I’m having a home-cooked meal, which I haven’t had in a long, long time.
“Uh, I don’t know.”
Seth chuckles and steps aside, saying, “Come on in, Charlie.”
I move my shaking knees into the house. We head right to the table, and Ms. McLean—er, Susan—walks in with a plate of corn on the cob. “Just in time, Charlie. And look at you, all fancy like. Looking good.”
She sits down, and I look around the dark wood table at the ribs, corn bread, and now the steaming corn on the cob.
“This looks delicious.”
Susan turns to Seth. “At least someone appreciates my cooking.”
Seth rolls his eyes.
I take some of everything and begin to tear into the ribs. Barbecue sauce covers my lips and around my mouth, but it’s too good to wipe off right away.
Both Seth and Susan are smirking at me.
“Sorry.” I put the ribs down and wipe my mouth.
“No, dig in. It’s nice to see someone devour my food,” Susan says.
Seth picks at the corn bread with his fingers. He flashes a look at his mom.
“Are you all packed?” Susan asks him.
“Almost.”
“I don’t want a repeat of last year, speeding down the highway at ninety miles an hour so you won’t miss your flight.”
“Where you going?” I ask.
“Visiting my dad in Seattle.”
Susan wipes her mouth. “He goes for three weeks every summer.”
The news is like a punch to my gut. It hurts.
Three weeks? What I thought would be a summer of fun and adventure with Seth has quickly turned into a summer of feeling oddly abandoned. “That sounds like fun.” I try to sound enthused when I’m decidedly not.
“It’ll be good,” Seth says.
Keep calm, Charlie. Three weeks from now will be just after the Fourth of July weekend—not even halfway through summer. I tell myself it’ll be okay. Seth will be back in no time. Plus I have work, Tickles, Grandma, and my own UFO research and maybe (hopefully) seeing and hanging out with the girl of my dreams, Jennifer Bennett.
“Yes, it’ll be good,” I repeat.
* * *
I put the napkin on my empty plate. “That was delicious, Ms. McLean.”
“Charlie. I keep telling you to call me ‘Susan.’ And thank you.” She stands, grabs the empty plates, and goes through the kitchen door.
“Sorry. Susan.”
“Want to go up to my room?” asks Seth.
“Sure.”
Seth sits at his computer desk. I look around his room again as if I had forgotten how cool it is. Seth turns to me. “What are you looking at?”
“Looks like you really are packed.” He has two big suitcases sitting near his bed.
“Yeah. I’m bringing all my camera equipment. So hopefully I’ll get some good pictures in Seattle. If I do, I’ll send you some.”
My heart jumps. “That’d be great. Yeah, please do.” I might be a tad too excited about this. But that means he wants to at least keep in touch. I won’t be completely alone.
“I need to finish editing this one before I go,” he says. On the monitor is the picture of me pulling my grandma up from her chair. It’s black and white. A tender, beautiful moment frozen in time.
“I love it,” Seth says. “It’s a picture about love.” He’s facing the monitor as he clicks things and changes settings on the picture.
“A picture about love,” I repeat. “I like that.”
Seth turns to me. “Don’t you mean you love it?” He chuckles, and turns and does a few more clicks. “There. Done. What do you think?”
It’s so perfect and beautiful, and even has this magical feeling between our faces, that I don’t have the words to describe it.
A piece of thick cardstock feeds into the printer on his desk.
“You’re printing it?”
“You can’t hang it up from my computer, can you?”
“But . . .”
He hands me the photograph and catches my eyes. It feels very personal. “You’re welcome.” Seth smiles, and I’m truly shocked by his kindness.
“Thank you.” Without thinking, I sit on his bed, which then feels like I disregarded someone’s personal space. I maybe should’ve asked. But Seth doesn’t seem to mind or notice. In fact, he sits next to me.
“So, my mom told me you visit your grandma like almost every day. That’s super impressive.”
“Hold that thought.” Seth jumps up and turns on his bedside lamp and turns off his overhead light. “Much better.” He scoots up to the headboard of his bed and pats the bed next to him.
I look at him.
“Well, don’t be afraid. I won’t attack.This time.” He winks.
I scoot up to his headboard and sit next to him. It all feels even more personal. But I guess this is what friends do together. Personal things. “So, you were saying?” he asks.
“Yeah.” I study the photograph. “My dad and I are all she has left. I’m kind of the end of the Dickens line.” I take a deep breath. “I worry that if I don’t visit her, she’ll be forgotten. She’ll be nobody because even she doesn’t know who she is. That leaves a shell of a person. I mean, are you even a person if you don’t know who you are?”
I can feel Seth staring at me. My eyes stay glued to the photograph, even though I’m no longer studying it.
“Wow. That’s pretty deep, Charlie.” Seth puts his hands behind his head. “That may be one of the smartest things anyone has ever said to me.”
I finally break my gaze from the photograph. “It’s not.”
“New rule,” he says. “Every time you say something shitty about yourself, you get a punch.”
“I don’t like that rule.”
“Tough. We’re going to get you to stop demeaning yourself. It’s like you’re sorry for your existence or something.”
Those words also feel like a punch to the stomach. I’m getting mentally beat up tonight, and I think it’s my own doing.
After a while Ms. McLean calls up that Seth needs to get to bed. “Early flight,” she says.
“Ugh,” Seth says.
“Ugh,” I echo, though I think we’re ughing for different reasons.
Seth smiles. “Ugh. Am I right?”
“Right,” I say. “Ugh.”
Soon we’re laughing at all the “right” and ughing we’re doing, and then Seth gets all serious. “I’ll miss you, Charlie.”
I stand up from his bed and say, “Yeah. Have fun in Seattle with your dad.” I want to say “I’ll miss you too,” but I fear it’ll sound weird and make me too vulnerable.
“Charlie.” Seth stands up and puts his hands on my shoulders. “You have my number. Let’s stay in touch. I’ll be back before we know it, and then we can go on summer adventures.”
I nod. That is the best thing I could’ve heard. “A summer full of adventures.”
“A summer full of them,” Seth echoes back.