It was so hot Saturday, and so humid, that I thought I might just rather die than go through with any of this. The morning crawled toward lunchtime, and I didn’t really feel much like eating, so I faked it for Mom’s sake and did some stretches, which seemed ridiculous even to me since I’d never done them before. When it was nearly one, I waited on the front porch until Alyssa came out of her house with a ball in her hand. Before getting up to walk across the street, I took a few deep, calming breaths, and it was like the whole summer flashed before my eyes. The first glimpse of the pink chair. The skyscraper view and skyscraper girl. The Ouija board saying “yes.” Peter. The woods. The cicada infestation. I couldn’t remember what the bugs had sounded like or what it felt like not to wear a bra all day. Alyssa was wearing the same outfit she’d had on the first day I met her, and for some reason that felt right. “So you showed,” she said when I met her by her garage. “Of course I showed.”
