The In Between

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Tara

Mom has spent most of her life preparing me for various kinds of disasters. I always thought it was stupid. I could not have been more wrong. Thanks to her, I was the only person on that beach equipped for a life-or-death scenario. Thanks to her, Justin is still alive.

But the one thing she’s left me entirely unequipped for is a fashion emergency. I’m in my bedroom, surrounded by a mountain of discarded outfits, staring at myself in the mirror, feeling hopeless and discouraged. Gone is my usual summer uniform of cut off jean shorts and American Apparel tanks. My dress feels too girly, too short and too not me.

I wish Gabby were here to help. But Gabby wasn’t invited to Sam Westcroft’s graduation party, and I’m on my own. I circle my cheeks with blush, gloss my lips and pucker them and then sit down on the bed.

I haven’t heard from Justin since it happened. I wonder if it will change anything. He’ll probably just have to be super-polite to me for the rest of my life. My dream come true.

“Tara, let’s go!” my mom calls from downstairs. I give myself one last check in the mirror, hoping that in the last few minutes I’ll somehow have magically changed into a different person.

I haven’t. I’m still hopelessly medium. Medium height. Medium brown hair. Medium brown eyes. There’s just nothing remarkable about me at all.

“You’re wearing eye makeup,” my sister Meg says accusingly from the front seat when I slide into the car.

“Yes I am, Detective Maybelline.” 

“Leave her alone, Meg,” Mom says. Her voice softens. “You look adorable, Tara,” she says, shooting me a look of pride in the rearview mirror. Mom was not thrilled at the fact that I was hanging out on a lifeguard-less beach. But me saving Justin’s life outweighs all that. She’s already picturing me in scrubs.

“You look nice too,” I reply, ignoring her cringe-worthy use of the word adorable.

I’m not just flattering her. Going to the Westcrofts counts as a major social outing for mom, and she’s wearing the white eyelet summer dress she got when Meg graduated from elementary school. It suits her.

 “I can’t believe Sam’s going to Brown,” my mom says with reverence. “Those boys. Judy and Ian must be over the moon.” It’s true, Justin is a sports star—the best soccer player at Heron High and he coaches the local youth team, the Heron Kickers, which totally makes me melt, and Sam is a brainiac— National Merit Scholar, Math Olympiad, the whole package. My mom goes on and on, as if she wants to figure out what breakfast cereal Mrs. Westcroft feeds her sons so she can get some too.

My heart quickens as we turn onto the Westcroft's block. Cars are parked up and down the street, but except for the helium balloons on the front door, the Westcrofts’ yellow ranch house looks deserted. I straighten my dress as I get out and try to fluff my hair—it’s humid and I can feel it getting limper by the minute despite the humidity-proof hairspray I had liberally applied. The smell of barbecue wafts through the air. We walk around the side of the house and find the party in full swing.

There are about forty people standing around, laughing and talking in groups: Sam and his friends, a bunch of kids from my grade, and grown-ups keeping Ian Westcroft company while he barbecues.

The only person I don’t see is Justin.

Sam walks over to me. He’s an older, nerdier version of Justin, slimmer and a little taller, but still super-cute. He ruffles my hair like I’m six.