The Same Girl [ON HOLD]

Six💔

As the days turned into the final hours before our trip, whenever I though about Sie's twenty-boy contest, I can't ignore the prickly feeling in my stomach that accompanies Mitch's face, faded and disappointed.

I never saw you in a bikini, I imagine him saying.

You didn't live long enough, I think.

But twenty, Kasey? Does it have to be twenty? What about five? Or three? Or one? How about zero?

What do you care? You're dead, remember?

I shake my head my head and pack the last few items on my list. Unless Dad has a sudden change of heart in the next eleven hours, we leave tomorrow morning.

"Dead boys don't talk, Kasey," I tell myself out loud. "Remember?"

"What?" Mum does her signature knock-while-already-opening move on my bedroom door. "Did you say something, hon?"

"Um, no, just reviewing my packing list." I see Dad and Lucy behind her and hope they haven't been standing there long. Then I see the serious look on my parents faces and swallow hard, hoping they're here to remind me about sunscreen and lifeguards and generally being an all-around well behaved child for Aunt Jane and Uncle Cam.

"Can we talk for a minute?" Dad asks, making himself comfortable in my desk chair.

"Um, okay." I remove and resold a few things in my bag to create the illusion that I'm busy.

"So, I saw Sie smoking again," he tells me as Mum sits on my bed.

I can't tell if it's a question or not so I just play dumb. "What do you mean?"

"I came home, one minute- Lucy, go play with your LEGO, I'll join you in a bit- I came home between open houses today and saw her," he says. That makes sense; Dad's in real estate, so his schedule is unpredictable. Sie should know- her window faces our house. It's been a few months since he busted her, when he and Mum grilled me about my nonexistent smoking habits and made me promise to get her to quit.

"She just- she found- it's just that- I don't know, Dad." I give up. The only excuse I can think of is the truth- she's broken. Until someone can finger out how to fix her, what else can she do?

Mum sighs, "Kasey, do you think maybe the trip is something the Pennels need to do together, as a family?"

"They are going as a family," I remind them. Their line of questioning is making me nervous. When the Pennels first invited me, it took some convincing for dads permission. Before Mitch died, Dad already struggled with 'living on the edge' activities like Lucy or I going outside with wet hair in the winter, taking our shoes off without untying them, and going to bed without flossing. It only got worse after the car accident, and I really thought Dad was going to say no to a summer vacation across the country- especially with his comments about me already spending too much time with Sie.

But after presenting a convincing argument, citing my honour roll final grades, and committing to extra housework without being asked, I won him over. After that, whenever someone mentions California, I change the topic. Like I told Sie- he can still revoke permission until we're on the plane.

"I know they're going as a family," Mum says, "I meant- without the next door neighbour kid getting underfoot."

She says 'the next door neighbour kid' like I'm some barnacle that hours of washing can't remove from the hull of their family tragedy

"She kind of needs me there, you know?" I force myself to keep my voice steady, thinking about Sie's 'positive envisions.' I am on the beach. There are gorgeous boys drooling at the sight of us and postcards and something about mermaids...