SUMMER SEVENTEEN XXI

I FIND THE Liars in the Cuddledown yard. The grass is littered with tennis racquets and drink bottles, food wrappers and beach towels. The three of them lie on cotton blankets, wearing sunglasses and eating potato chips.

                “Feeling better?” asks Tiffany.

                I nod.

                “We missed you.”

                They have baby oil spread on their bodies. Two bottles of it lie on the grass. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll get burned?” I ask.

                “I don’t believe in sunblock anymore,” says Minho.

                “He’s decided the scientists are corrupt and the whole sunblock industry is a moneymaking fraud,” says Tiffany.

                “Have you ever seen sun poisoning?” I ask, again. “The skin literally bubbles.”

                “It’s a dumb idea,” Tiffany says. “We’re just bored out of our minds, that’s all.” But she slathers baby oil on her arms as she’s speaking.

                I lie down next to Minho.

                I open a bag of barbeque potato chips.

                I stare at Taeyeon’s jawline.

                Tiffany reads aloud a bit of a book about Jane Goodall.

                We listen to some music off my iPhone, the speaker tinny.

                “Why don’t you believe in sunblock again?” I ask Minho.

                “It’s a conspiracy,” he says. “To sell a lot of lotions that nobody needs.”

                “Uh-huh.”

                “I won’t burn. You’ll see.”

                “But why are you putting on baby oil?”         

                “Oh, that’s not part of the experiment,” he says. “I just like to be as greasy as possible at all times.”

TAEYEON CATCHES ME in the kitchen, looking for food. There isn’t much. “Last time I saw you was again suboptimal,” she says. “In the hallway a couple nights ago.”

                “Y-yeah.” My hands are shaking.

                “Sorry.”

                “All right.”

                “Can we start over?”

                “We can’t start over every day, Tae.”

                “Why not?” She jumps to sit on the counter. “Maybe this is a summer of second chances.”

                “Second, sure. But after that it gets ridiculous.”

                “So just be normal,” she says, taking my hand, “at least for today. Let’s pretend I’m not a mess, let’s pretend you’re not angry. Let’s act like we’re friends and forget what happened.”

                I don’t want to pretend.

                I don’t want to be friends.

                I don’t want to forget. I’m just trying to remember.

                “Just for a day or two, until things start to seem all right again,” says Taeyeon, seeing my hesitation. “We’ll just hang out until it all stops being such a big deal.”

                I want to know everything, understand everything; I want to hold her close and run my hands over her and never let her go. But perhaps this is the only way we can start.

                Be normal, now. Right now.

                Because you are. Because you can be.

                “I’ve learned how to do that,” I say.

                I hand her the bag of fudge Grandad and I bought in Edgartown, and the way her face lights up at the chocolate tugs at my heart.

Start over?