CHAPTER 28
Dear Aunt Chey,
Courage: To summon bravery within oneself. To do something you never thought you could do. To face the truth. To act with confidence. To finally admit what your life is and will always be. To see the end and know it.
Cassie
When I get back to the cabin that night, I find the University of Arizona sweatshirt and Molly’s quilt on my bed. I pack them away in my bag and stuff it under the bunk bed.
Cassie stays silent. She doesn’t say a word to any of us, not even Grover. A day passes and another. My stubborn side comes out—the side that kept me quiet for so many years with Molly. The side that made me numb. Cassie and I sit across from each other at meals, but I grind my teeth and choke on my words. I spend my time at archery and arts and crafts. We don’t swim.
And Grover watches it all. He slides his hand over my thigh under the table, helping to ease everything inside of me, but I still stay silent.
In the cabin, I write letters to my parents and talk to Dori about her plans to confront her mom when she gets home.
“I’m gonna ask to live with my dad,” she says. “I don’t care if he lives on the other side of the country and I’ll have to make new friends. My friends kind of suck anyway.”
I glance at Cassie, who’s peeling nail polish from her toenails.
“That sounds like a good plan.”
“I’m just tired of being tired,” Dori says. “What about you? What are you going to do when you get home?”
“Home?” I don’t even like saying the word. “I haven’t really thought about it.”
In the morning, I find Grover leaning against a picnic bench outside of my cabin.
“Grover, you’re not supposed to be over here,” Madison says.
“What would humanity be if all anyone ever did was what they were supposed to do? Jesus was supposed to be a carpenter. What would have happened if he didn’t break the rules and become the Son of God?”
Madison shakes her head and laughs. “It’s too early for this.”
The rest of the cabin walks toward the mess hall, but Cassie lingers in the back of the group and glares at us as she passes. I do the same back to her.
I lean back on the picnic table next to Grover. He takes my hand. “And the power play goes on.”
I ignore the comment.
He lifts my hand and places it directly on top of his. His fingers extend more than a knuckle past mine. I press my palm into his until both our hands are touching entirely, and the anger I feel toward Cassie melts away. I sigh and lay my head on Grover’s arm.
“Fancy a game of tetherball before breakfast?” he asks.
“Against you?” Grover nods and I smile. “You’re on.”
We walk over to the tetherball court by the mess hall. The ball hangs from the pole, dangling in the breeze.
“You can start,” Grover says.
I take the ball from him, thoroughly prepared to kick his ass. We’ve never played, but I beat Bek just last week, even though he told me he was the Tetherball Champion of Canada.
“Ready?” I ask.
“Ready.”
I pull my arm back and lift the ball high in the air. I smack it with as much force as I can. Grover jumps when it gets to his side of the court and stops the ball with one of his hands. He tosses it back at me. It soars over my head and out of arm’s reach. When it gets back to his side, he does it again and again and again, until the ball wraps tightly around the pole and he wins.
I put my hands on my hips. “Best two out of three.”
Grover smiles as he unwraps the ball from the pole. “You can start again.”
I take the same stance and the game begins. When the ball smacks against the pole, announcing Grover’s win for a second time, I stomp my foot.
“But that’s unfair. You’re taller than me and you have big hands.”
“Why, thank you.” He gives me one of his winks. “Why do you care so much about winning anyway?”
“I don’t.”
“You don’t?”
“No . . .” I take a step back from the court, my adrenaline from the game fizzling out. “Maybe . . .”
“Maybe what?”
“You’re tricking me.”
“Me?”
I sit down on the ground. Grover takes the seat next to me. He picks up my hand again and traces the outline of it with his finger. I don’t ever want this summer to end.
“Someone has to be the bigger person.” He presses his palm to mine. “See.”
I lean my head on his shoulder. “Yes. I see.” He doesn’t let go of my hand. “You know you could have just said that.”
“That’s boring. Plus, I like seeing you jump.”
I nudge him in the side.
In the mess hall, I stop with my tray of food behind our table. Cassie’s back is to me. Grover taps my back with his tray to move me forward. I try not to groan as I take a seat next to her.
I eat half of my meal, every few bites glancing at Cassie. She takes a few sips of water as she peels an orange one bit at a time. When the skin is off, she pulls each slice apart, but not a single one goes in her mouth.
“Aren’t you going to eat it?” I ask.
She doesn’t say anything, but takes one of the slices and slams her hand down on it, crushing it flat. A piece of pulp lands on my cheek and I wipe it away.
“You need to eat, Cassie.”
“You’re not my mother.” She smashes another one.
“I can see you’re making fresh-squeezed orange juice this morning, Sticks. How healthy of you,” Grover adds. “I hear vitamin C is all the rage.”
She doesn’t say anything.
“Maslow says you need to eat,” I qualify.
“I don’t give a shit about Maslow.”
“Then do it for me.”
Cassie looks at me with blazing eyes. “Why would I do anything for you?”
I take a breath. Durga, Durga, Durga. I remind myself to be a warrior. “Because I care about you,” I say.
Cassie cackles in her seat, tossing her head back. She laughs like I’ve just cracked the biggest joke she’s ever heard.
“You don’t care about me.”
“Yes, I do.” I touch her arm.
“No touching, remember.” Cassie smiles at me with clenched teeth. It’s not a real smile, but more like she’s challenging me and she’s getting a kick out of it. She raises her hand, yelling for Kerry.
“Yes, Cassie,” he says.
“I’d like to acknowledge something this morning.” Cassie speaks loud enough that the whole mess hall goes silent and turns toward our table.
“You’d like to acknowledge something.” He repeats it like he’s clarifying something he misheard.
Cassie nods and stands up from her seat, glaring down at me.
“I know why Zander was sent to camp.”
The moment the words come out of her mouth, my stomach dives to the floor and I freeze in my seat. I can’t even bring my arm up to yank her down. And then it all comes out in one waterfall of words.
“Cassie, that’s not—” Kerry tries to say, but her booming voice cuts him off.
“She almost drowned at a swim meet because she was so sad about her dead sister who died choking on an apple. And her fat-ass coach had to give her mouth to mouth. I was right. She was an apathetic mess who was dead on the inside . . . just like her sister.” Cassie’s vacant eyes haven’t left me. I feel a tear roll down my cheek and plop on my bare knee. And Cassie just watches it fall.
I run out of the mess hall, pushing the doors as hard as I can, and take off toward the archery field. I need to disappear into the woods and hide in the trees. I choke on my breath as I trip over a root poking out of the ground, but Grover grabs my arm, catching me before I fall. I didn’t know he was behind me.
“How could she?” I say with ragged breath. “How could she?”
Grover picks me up and presses me to him. He kisses my cheeks and forehead and nose.
“I’m sorry,” he says into my ear. “I’m sorry.”
He brushes my hair out of my face, keeping his hands on my cheeks. A fire lights in my stomach as what Cassie just did settles in. It burns and hurts.
“I did what you asked. All I’ve worried about is what Cassie needs.” I pace back and forth in front of Grover. My voice grows louder with the more words I say. “But what about me? I’m happy for the first time in years, maybe ever. I’m happy! And she’s ruining it. She is ruining my happiness.” I stop in my tracks, reality coming clear in my mind. “She’s broken, Grover. I can’t save her. You can’t save her. No one can save her. She’s broken and she’ll stay that way forever.”
After the words fall out of my mouth, the sound of someone approaching us catches my attention.
I turn to find Cassie standing in the trees, her jaw jutting forward as she bites down hard.
“I was coming to apologize,” she says.
I freeze.
“You think I’m broken . . . forever.” Cassie says my own words back at me. I step toward her, but she moves away. “You know what? I don’t need you.” And then she starts running.
Grover and I finally catch up to Cassie down on the beach. She’s fast when she wants to be. She walks straight up to Madison and says, “I want to test for green.”
“What?” Madison says.
“Are you deaf, Mads? I want to test for green.”
I grab on to Cassie’s arm. “What are you doing?”
She yanks out of my grip. “I don’t need you.”
“Sticks.”
Cassie points at Grover. “Or you.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Madison asks.
“Just test me.” Cassie pushes past us and goes out onto the dock. Madison hesitates for a moment and then grabs the diving sticks from inside the equipment shed and walks out to meet her. I stand on the beach next to Grover, biting my nails.
Cassie strips down to her bathing suit. When I can’t take it anymore, I grab Grover’s hand and pull him out onto the dock.
“Don’t do this, Cassie,” I yell at her.
“Put the stick in the lake,” Cassie barks at Madison.
And Madison does it. I look at her like she’s crazy. Cassie will drown and Madison knows it. Cassie’s barely been able to get one stick out of six feet let alone twelve feet.
“It’s okay, Zander, I won’t let anything happen,” Madison says. She turns to Cassie. “You have to get the stick and bring it back to the surface.”
I watch as Cassie nods and squeezes her hands at her side.
“Please, Cassie.” I try one last time.
She looks me dead in the eyes. “You don’t believe in me.”
And then Cassie jumps in.
I pull in a breath as her body hits the water. Grover grabs my hand as Cassie’s pink bathing suit disappears from the surface and goes lower into the blue. I count the seconds in my head. One . . . two . . . three . . . I hold air tight in my lungs. Four . . . five . . . six . . . I peer over the side of the dock. My nerves spike.
“Come on,” I whisper. “Come on.”
But Cassie doesn’t come back up, and the seconds tick on longer.
“This isn’t good,” Grover says.
Madison takes off the shirt that’s covering her bathing suit. “I’m going in to get her.” And a second later, she dives in after Cassie.
I grab on to Grover and pray. I pray to St. Anthony of Padua that the lost be found. That the soul be free. That life be everlasting. And that Cassie makes it back up to the surface.
I say it over three times before Madison pops back up with Cassie in her arms. They both gasp for breath. Madison drags Cassie over to the dock as Grover reaches down for her. Cassie slumps over and coughs water out of her nose and mouth.
“Are you okay?” I ask, wiping water from Cassie’s face and hair.
“I didn’t make it,” she says and coughs. “I didn’t make it.”
“It’s okay, Cassie.” I begin to wipe more water from her skin, but Cassie backs away from my touch. She stands up on the dock, her knees shaky and her chest heaving in ragged breaths.
“No it’s not.” She pushes past me, knocking my arm with so much force I fall down.
Madison sits winded on the end of the dock, a shocked look on her face. “She almost drowned,” she says. “I can’t believe she almost drowned.”
I watch Cassie run up the stairs, wobbly on her legs and dripping with water. She disappears into the trees around the mess hall.
I don’t see Cassie again until dinner. I wait for her in the cabin, rolling Hannah’s gimp key chain around in my hand. The melted end is starting to fray and come apart. Madison said courage takes multiple forms. That it doesn’t have to be skydiving or bungee jumping. That for some people just getting up every day is an act of courage. That the smallest act can have the biggest effect.
I get the University of Arizona sweatshirt out of my bag. It feels like I’ve stolen it from Cassie, and she needs to have it. One small gesture of courage—I put it on her bed.
Cassie isn’t in the mess hall when I arrive for dinner. I go through the line and sit down, my eyes watching the door for her. When she finally appears, I touch Grover’s leg.
She grabs a tray and walks down the line of food. Her body looks different. Cassie normally walks with her chest out, but tonight her shoulders round down toward the ground. Even her neck seems to hang lower. She passes all of the food, never putting an item on her tray.
I press my hand into Grover’s thigh and wait for Cassie to sit down with us. At the end of the line, she turns to face the entire mess hall of campers. Many are staring at her, the news of what happened traveling fast.
Cassie blinks and looks around the room before walking over to Madison. The room is so quiet everyone can hear what she says.
“I don’t feel well, Madison. Can I go lie down for the night?” A look of complete shock washes over Madison’s face as she fumbles with her words. “Can I, please?”
Madison nods quickly. Cassie sets her empty tray down on the table and walks out of the mess hall.
“I miss her already,” Bek says, staring at Cassie’s empty seat.
“What do we do?” I look at Grover.
“I’m not sure it’s about us anymore.” Grover exhales. “It was never about us.”
When I get back to the cabin, Cassie is there. She lies with her back to me, the University of Arizona sweatshirt back on my bed.
No one says anything as we brush our teeth. Cassie doesn’t move, except for her back going up and down with inhales and exhales. I glance at her every few seconds.
When the cabin goes dark and I’m in my bed, I say, “Good night, Cassie.”
She doesn’t respond. I hug her sweatshirt to my chest and press it to my nose. It smells like her.
A nightmare shakes me awake. Or a memory. I sit up straight in the middle of the night.
“She called her Madison,” I whisper. “She called her Madison.” My stomach churns. I look at Cassie’s bed. She’s gone. The bathroom window is open and letting the smallest breeze through the slight crack. I get Cassie’s duffel bag from under her bed and rip open the side pocket with her diet pills. They’re gone. All of them. My heart pounds loud in my ears.
“I need the key!” I scream as I shake Madison awake. “I need the key!”
Madison looks at me, confused and scared. She yanks the key from around her neck, breaking the chain, and hands it over.
I run to the door as everyone stirs in the cabin, my hands shaking as I try to force the key into the lock.
“Get me out of here!” I scream. Madison is at my side in a second. She takes the key and slides it in with ease. The door pops open. I don’t wait for permission. I take off toward the lake, my feet barely able to keep up with my torso.
“I pray that the lost be found. That the soul be free. That life be everlasting.”
At the mess hall, I stumble down the stairs toward the beach. My toe stubs on something, but I barely feel it. All I feel are my fingers squeezing the sweatshirt in my hands as tight as I can as I run.
My feet hit the sand, slowing me down, but I fight forward.
Madison said that sometimes people misuse courage.
I run to where the water meets the land.
Sometimes people do things that are harmful and hurtful because they’re scared or lonely or desperate.
I look out at Lake Kimball, my hands numb and my heart on the verge of exploding. Tears streak my face.
They call it courage.
I see bottles floating on the surface of the water. Pill bottles.
I drop the sweatshirt on the ground. Cassie floats next to them. Facedown.