Everything Changes-The Summer I Turned Pretty

Twenty Five

I look over the edge of the railing that overlooks the living room, and see Laurel doing Belly's hair. Belly is wearing her official debutante dress. White and frilly and lace, all at once. It looks pretty on her, and I feel a tang of jealousy, knowing I could never look as nice as her.

I don't see Mom or Conrad or Jere, so I head downstairs toward Laurel and Belly.

"Hi Beautiful," Laurel says to me. I feel my face flush.

"Have either of you seen Jeremiah?" I ask.

Laurel pauses the twist in Belly's hair and turns to look in the kitchen. "That was the last place I saw him. Maybe he's waiting for you outside?"

"Thanks, Laur."

Before I can sneak away to find him, Laurel lays one of her hands over the back on my palm. "What are you two up to tonight anyway?"

"We're competing at the arcade." When Belly looks up at me, I feel stupid for our plans.

"You know," Belly starts and I feel my body tense. "We never went there, all of us together, all summer."

I relax a little. "No, I guess not."

"I hope you guys have fun," Belly tells me before straightening her head for Laurel to continue her braiding.

"You too, Bells."

I see the corner of Laurel's mouth turn up and I feel a little better—for a moment forgetting about my brothers and mom and disputes with Belly—and then I hear Jeremiah walk into the kitchen through the screen door.

Jeremiah's face and bangs are wet, like he's either really sweaty or just dunked his head in the ocean. Or both. He comes by me, says goodbye to Laurel and good luck to Belly, then leads me to the garage and into his Jeep.

"You still want to do this?" he asks me.

"Of course," I answer with a cheery voice. "Why, do you not?"

"No, no, no. I do too. Don't worry." He's talking quickly, words rambling off his tongue, and he's breathing fast. Then he freezes, makes eye contact with me, and smiles.

His teeth are snow-white against his dark tan, the same tan that Conrad and I also receive from the sun. Laurel used to get jealous that her children never looked as sun-kissed as us.

He holds out a fist for a fist bump. "Just wanted to make sure you still felt up for it."

"I do. So let's go."

We start with classic games like Pac-Man, blasting clowns painted on bowling pins with water guns, and racing on go-carts. At first, we both have energy. Laughing and crap talking about one another's performance.

Soon we both get tired. I notice Jere's jaw is almost constantly clenched, even when we aren't competing. When he smiles, his eyes don't crinkle in the corners the way they do when he's relaxed.

"We should play that," I say, pointing at a claw machine with a bunch of stuffed animals inside.

Jere stares at it for a minute. "Kris, you know those things are practically rigged right?"

I shrug. "I bet I'll get one before you do."

My brother laughs from his nose. "Fine, but we each have a five dollar limit on this. Which means we each get five chances. Deal?"

"You betcha." I open my wallet and insert my first dollar bill.

Jeremiah wasn't wrong...the claw barely reached low enough and closed tight enough to retrieve the teal octopus I aim it at. I'm not willing to give in to the idea of it being rigged so I shrug and step back to watch Jere on his turn.

He also fails.

Four tries later and neither of us have a stuffed animal yet. I feel kind of bad for wasting both mine and his money on this game.

The claw lifts a panda bear but drops it before it reaches the opening in the corner. I groan and step back.

"Last try," Jere teases and chooses a black puppy stuffed animal. The claw barely grabs its ear and somehow manages to drop it into the corner where it falls onto the floor in front of us.

"You did it!" I cheer, at this point just glad that one of us could conquer my stupid dare.

Instead of rubbing his victory in my face, he lifts the stuffed animal and hands it to me. "Look. It has pearls like the ones Mom gave to Belly."

I stare down at the puppy and its necklace. Instead of hatred, I feel sad.

I look up and am about to ask Jeremiah why he would say such a thing, but he continues, "Except these ones are all yours."

I close my eyes before they can well up with tears. "Thanks, Jere," I say and feel one of his arms wrap around my shoulders. I never told him about the pearls and how much it hurt me that Mom gave them to Belly and not me. I told Conrad.

I wonder why Conrad told Jeremiah, and I can't decide if I feel upset or comforted that they talked to each other about me.

Before I make up my mind, Jeremiah tugs my arm and suggests we find an ice cream shop, where he will "be the gentleman and amazing big brother he is" and pay for both of us. I don't even argue, I just hug my puppy with the pearls close to me and follow him.

In the Jeep, Jeremiah asks if we can order our ice cream to go. "I've been thinking, and maybe it wouldn't be terrible for us to drop by the deb ball for a couple minutes and say hi. We will still beat them all home and maybe get a couple rounds of Call of Duty in before they even get back."

"Yeah, sure. I don't care," I say, except I lie a little, because I do care. But as long as he's right and we don't stay too long, I'll survive. As long as he doesn't ignore me for Belly again.

I look down at Pearls (the name of my new stuffed animal) in my lap and tell myself that won't happen. He's moved past her, she is Conrad's now.

I order a scoop of rocky road in a cone and Jere orders mint chocolate chip in a dish. I eat my ice cream in the car and hold his while he drives until we get to the country club.

I need to speed walk to keep up with my brother's long strides. It's like he's on a mission—with his quick pace, serious face, and running his fingers through his damp hair.

"Kristin, Jeremiah! I'm so glad you both came to support your brother and Belly," Mom declares when we approach her and Laurel's table. I take an awkward seat beside Mom, feeling out of place in my arcade outfit but she doesn't say anything about it. She's just glad we're there. And that causes me to relax a little.

Jere sits on the other side of me and eats half his ice cream and a couple pieces of shrimp that Mom offers him before standing up to use the restroom.

"Call me if the dance is about to start," he tells me and hurries away.

He's gone for several minutes and the conversation fades away from me and toward the other strangers at our table. Mom and Laurel talk to them about the weather, books, their children, and the summer, and then I hear a piano begin to play.

Everyone's attention is redirected to the stage as all the debutante girls and their dates line up.

I quickly call Jere, but he doesn't answer. I send him a text, telling him to hurry up. The dance starts and he doesn't come.