Slipping - Book 1.5 in the Swans Landing series

Chapter 11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“So why do you have to see the school counselor anyway?” Mara walked around the Swans Landing Lighthouse, running her fingers along the white stone. “Did you punch Elizabeth in the nose too?”

I laughed as I followed her a few steps behind. “I can’t say that I haven’t considered it. But no. My excuse is a lot less exciting than yours.”

“Which is?” she prompted.

“Mr. Richter thinks I have a bad attitude,” I said, “all relating back to my dad’s death and my mom’s breakdown. He says I haven’t allowed myself to come to terms with what happened and move on.”

We were alone at the Swans Landing Lighthouse, where we had escaped to after leaving the school. People rarely came to the lighthouse, since most of the homes and businesses were farther south. Only the birds swooping overhead watched us as we walked in circles around the white structure.

“Like he knows anything,” Mara said. “I think a person is allowed to have a bad attitude when they’ve lost a parent.”

“Or two,” I said. “My mom may be here physically, but mentally I lost her a long time ago. My mom took my dad’s death really hard. She’s not always herself.”

Mara paused and looked out at the ocean. “The cancer took my mom away from me long before she died. Sometimes I would dream about going back in time, back before she got sick, when everything was okay. But whenever I woke up, it never was. My mom was still dying and so I started to hate sleeping. Because waking up always brought me one day closer to her being gone.”

She started walking again, but I stayed in place, staring down at the sand and dry grass under my feet. I bit my lip, trying to hold back the aching in my chest.

I felt Mara approach me from behind. A moment later, she slipped her arms around my waist and leaned her head against my back.

“I’ve done everything I can to help her and make her better, but it’s never been enough,” I said. “Is it weird to miss someone you don’t even know? Because every day I miss my dad even though I was a barely a year old when he died.”

“It’s not weird,” she said. “But sometimes, the reality never lives up to the person you think you’re missing.” I knew she was talking about her own dad. I wondered how much she had thought about him while growing up, wondering what he was like and how different the real person was from the one she had imagined.

I turned and pulled her close, resting my chin on top of her head.

“Stay right here,” she said after a moment, pulling away.

“What—”

She held up her hand and dashed back to where we’d left our belongings. She grabbed her camera and turned it on.

“No pictures,” I said, but my protest was pretty pathetic.

“Just one,” she told me. “You won’t even be able to really see you because I’m going far enough back to get the lighthouse and everything.”

I rolled my eyes, but said, “Fine. Just one.”

Mara stepped back, holding the camera to her eye as she moved. She dropped to one knee and adjusted the lens. I looked away, a little uncomfortable at being the center of attention.

The camera clicked at least twenty times. I shifted from one foot to the other, unsure what to do with myself.

“I thought you said just one,” I called.