Four Summers at Holiday House
The Single Summer
There was something about both having her friends around and the beach air that mended almost any malady, both the physical variety and heartbreak. Maybe it was having the house feel alive again with giggles and chatter, the opening and closing of doors, maybe it was as simple as having someone to stay up late with and drink white wine outside on the deck or to have company for a midnight swim. Nothing seemed very bleak anymore within the confines of friendship; no one allowed it. The second she started to feel sorry for herself, the melancholy would be shattered by a shouted declaration that she "needed a drink." Somebody would miraculously appear to make her laugh or offer to watch a movie with her. Being left to her own devices wasn't an option. It was damn near impossible to stay in a funk, even if she'd wanted to.
The past few months had been complete shit. It had gotten to the point where she had plateaued so severely that she had to seek outside of herself to get on stage every night, to put one foot in front of the other. Sleep was the only time she could fully escape and before long, even that was tainted by nightmares.
But as her mother liked to remind her, they came from a long line of strong women, of unshakeable ilk, who rallied when the opportunity presented itself. If she didn't exactly drag herself up by the bootstraps, she still managed to slowly heal. Recovery certainly wasn't linear; she had good days and harder ones. Having her friends around helped speed up the process.
Holiday House lived up to its name. The 4th of July parties she threw there were always her favorite, reminding her of summers of the past, this time with alcohol and raunchy jokes added into the mix.
This year felt a little more somber. As much as she stayed busy, threw herself into planning, there was still a heaviness that sat in the middle of her chest.
She tried to abate it with silliness and fruity cocktails Selena put together gleefully in the open kitchen like a mad scientist and Bomb popsicles and sing- alongs by the fire, by dips in the pool under a sky full of stars.
"I'd ask if you were okay, but I know the answer."
Selena never liked to corner you. It wasn't her way. She would sneak in casually during a random moment, drinking by the water, while the others were laughing as Ashley told a blind date horror story.
Taylor sighed. She had been sighing so much as of late, she was almost afraid her chest was going to cave in one day.
"I'm thriving. It's our independent lady summer. We don't need a man."
Her tone held some sarcasm and it made Selena laugh, as had been her intention. "No. No, we do not."
They both slipped into a kind of quiet that bespoke more than words could. Selena brushed her elbow.
"You don't have to suddenly...be okay. You know that, right? No one's expecting you to be filled with joy. It's been a sucky few months."
"I'm mostly fine," she opted for the truth. "There's just this...this thing, I can't explain it. I'm just really lonely, I guess."
It wasn't something she had been prepared to confess, but Selena had a way about her where she drew out the vulnerable pieces of her. Perhaps it was the fact they'd known each other for so long. Could have been the rum flowing through her veins.
Or maybe it was just Selena, how she knew things without prompting; her perception was unmatched and Taylor had given up hiding from her ages ago.
"It's a horrible feeling."
"I'm just starting to think there's nobody out there for me, you know?"
She hated dredging herself in self-pity...wasn't cute. This was more than feeling sorry for herself, though. The idea of that she'd written herself into a corner, first with Joe, then with Matty, wasted time on future plans that were never going to happen...it made her sick to her stomach. More than that, it made her angry. With them, yes, but mostly with herself.
