Float, page 31
The façade of the back building, where I’d seen the half-finished mural just a week ago, was now a full wall of bright colors. Sea turtles and starfish and smiling fish wove through tendrils of seaweed and elaborate coral structures. It was like something out of a Pixar movie.
“We’ll have a curtain covering this up for the big reveal,” Rachel explained. “We kept it uncovered so the kids could watch us while we painted, but the board wants a big reveal for the donors. You know. Like, ta-da! Here’s what your money paid for!”
Jesse, Lena, and Alissa showered her with compliments and questions, all of which Rachel took with a beaming grin. Dad alternated between staring at his sister and staring up at her mural.
“She’s good, huh?” I asked, a bit sourly.
Dad winced, then nodded. The coward.
Admit you’re wrong, I thought.
I’d started my summer wanting to become someone else. Someone cooler. Someone braver. But I hadn’t become someone else—I’d become myself, but better. Myself, but a bit more at peace with it. And I hadn’t realized just how much I’d grown until Dad had stomped on me. I felt myself wilting. Getting smaller, quieter, more anxious.
Blake squeezed my hand.
“I want to put my toes in the ocean,” I said, turning to him. “Just one last time.”
The nearest beach was Marlin Cove—the same beach where we’d gone surfing. The Fletcher twins raced onto the sand first, followed shortly by Alissa, who groaned loudly about just getting her pedicure done, and Blake, who walked with his hands in his pockets and his head down. I waited up for my dad and my aunt, but only Rachel got out of the car.
“He wants to wait,” she said. “Says he’s jet-lagged.”
“Good,” I muttered.
Together, we walked down the steps that connected the parking lot and the beach. I kicked off my shoes and dug my toes into the sand. There would be swimming pools in Fairbanks, but there wouldn’t be this—the glorious stretch of the Atlantic Ocean. There wouldn’t be soft sand under my bare feet and salty wind whipping my hair in my face.
Rachel stood back while Blake, Alissa, Lena, Jesse, and I lined up at the waterline, sea foam tickling our toes.
We didn’t speak. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t hurt.
“Well,” I said, a lump already forming in my throat. “We have an early morning flight, so I probably won’t see you guys again.”
I turned to Alissa, first, because she was closest. She threw her arms out, and with a startled burst of laughter, I stepped forward to hug her. She smelled expensive. Nice shampoo, nice laundry detergent, nice perfume.
“I’m sorry I thought you were a bitch,” I mumbled into her television-commercial-grade hair.
Alissa sighed. “I’m sorry I was a bitch. Let me know if you’re ever in the Mediterranean. My mom knows people. I can get you a free stay anywhere except Santorini. Don’t tell people you know me in Santorini, actually.”
I’d hated her, once. I’d thought that, somehow, one of us was in some way better than the other. One of us had to be prettier. Smarter. More reserved. More outgoing.
What a load of shit.
Alissa stepped back and smiled at me. “Travel safe, Waverly.”
Jesse was next. He took a long pull of iced coffee, then set the cup on the ground by his feet. I had only a moment to anticipate his hug before his arms were around my torso, and I was a half a foot off the ground.
“Jesse!” I screeched. “Your hands are like ice cubes!”
He set me down and beamed at me.
“Just getting you ready for Alaska.” He shrugged.
I rolled my eyes, but when I spoke again, my voice was hoarse.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “Take care of everyone, okay? Even your sister.”
“Watch out for bears and shit,” he said, then shrugged. “Alaska, you know?”
“Bears really aren’t a pressing threat in the city. But I’ll do my best.”
Before I saw her coming, Lena wrapped her arms tight around me and crushed me in a hug. I let out a miserable little wail of distress. She laughed and went to let go, but I held tight.
“I love you,” I mumbled into her corkscrew curls.
“I love you too,” she said into my shoulder. Her voice was tight.
“Are you about to cry?”
“Obviously not.” Her sniffle betrayed her.
“Can I say something?” I asked. Lena grumbled in protest, but I pushed on regardless. “You were the first friend I had here. You were the first person who didn’t look at me like I was a total weirdo—”
“You are a weirdo,” Lena murmured affectionately.
“—and I’ll always appreciate that. More than you know.”
Lena and I stepped back and took a moment to detangle the bits of our hair that’d gotten tangled. We both had tears in our eyes and kept sniffling, so eventually the sight of each other became so comical we had to laugh.
“If anyone up in Alaska gives you trouble,” Lena said, “you call me. I’ll come kick their ass.”
“I know you will,” I told her.
There was only one person left to say good-bye to. I could see him hovering off to the side in my peripheral vision. My whole body felt like an honest to goodness ice cube. I was frozen solid.
“His turn,” Lena said, tipping her head to the side.
I stared at her, wide-eyed with panic.
“Hold on,” Alissa murmured, stepping up to us. She stood on her tiptoes, so we were eye to eye, and ran her thumbs under my eyes. “Mascara. Okay. You’re good.”
Jesse leaned over and gave me an encouraging pat on the shoulder.
And so I turned, finally, and met Blake’s eyes. The dull ache in my chest was physically painful. I wanted to scream, again. I wanted to sit down and throw a tantrum like the child I suddenly realized I was.
“Um,” I began, eloquent until the very end. “Hey.”
Blake’s throat worked as he swallowed hard. His smile was tight.
“I want you to have this,” he murmured.
His sweatshirt. The green crew neck. I accepted it delicately, like he’d passed me a sleeping newborn baby.
“Thank you,” I said, my voice so wobbly it hit four different octaves.
Something flickered across Blake’s face, but before I could dwell on it, he stepped forward and pulled me tight against his chest. I tried to memorize it. The heat of his body, the smell of laundry detergent when I pressed my nose against his shoulder, the way his chest rose and fell with one deep breath while his heart hammered against his ribs.
Don’t cry, I told myself. Do not cry.
We broke apart. I tucked his sweatshirt under my arm. Blake looked like he was going to say something else, but he hesitated, and in that little window of time I decided that I needed to go before either of us made this any harder.
“Bye, Blake.”
I turned and took one determined stride.
And then I promptly lost it. I stopped, my whole body slumping in defeat as the tears I’d worked so hard to hold back poured over, and turned back around to face Blake. I felt like a broken vase a guilty child had tried to piece together with Elmer’s Glue and hadn’t given the time to dry. I lifted my arms and let them drop to my sides again, as if to say, I almost had it. He hurried forward to meet me just as the first real sob came on.
“Talk to me, Waverly,” he said.
I blubbered something unintelligible to all humankind. Blake put his hands on my shoulders and kneaded his fingers into muscles I hadn’t realized were tensed. I used the sleeve of his green crew neck to wipe at my tears.
“I knew you were being weird,” he teased.
“I just—didn’t want—to cry,” I sobbed.
“Yeah, well, I’d rather my last visual of you be covered in snot than, like, not making eye contact with me.”
I sighed and leaned into his hands. “I’m sorry.”
Blake tucked a piece of my hair behind my ear. “You realize we will see each other again, right? Because I love this sweatshirt. You’re gonna dry clean it after this, right? I think you got snot on the—”
I hugged him again. He hugged me back, his chest heaving with a heavy exhale.
“I love you,” I said.
“Right back at you,” Blake murmured, then yelped when I pinched the skin over his ribs right up under his armpit. “Okay, okay. I love you too. Gremlin.”
We let each other go. I made it only a step before I remembered something.
“Wait,” I said. “My number.”
Blake handed me his phone, and I tapped it in. It might’ve been the gloomy light, but I was sure I saw tears glistening in his eyes.
“As much as I want you to miss your flight,” he said, “you should probably go pack and get some sleep. Here to Alaska’s, like, three hundred bucks one way.”
I didn’t need to ask how he knew that.
With one last wave and a round of shouted good-byes, I turned my back to the ocean and the people I loved. Rachel was standing at the bottom of the steps up to the parking lot.
I felt the tears soaring up like someone had knocked over a fire hydrant with their car.
“Oh kiddo,” Rachel murmured as I approached.
She held open her arms and I stepped into them, feeling very much like a child.
“Thank you for feeding me,” I said. “And clothing me. And—”
Rachel stroked my hair and shushed me.
“You know you’re welcome down here anytime,” she told me. Then, softer: “I mean it. As soon as you’re done with high school and you turn eighteen, you are your own person. You don’t owe your mom and dad anything, Waverly. You could go to college. You could take a gap year. You could go to trade school. You could join the circus. I don’t care. You’ll always have a place to stay in Holden.”
She really wasn’t helping my efforts to not ugly cry in public.
“Maybe don’t join the circus, though,” Rachel added, as an afterthought. “I’ve seen you in action, kiddo. That’s a broken neck waiting to happen.”
I laughed against her shoulder. Then I buried my face there.
“You’re a really, really good guardian,” I said, willing my voice not to wobble.
“Happy to be of service,” Rachel teased, squeezing me and rocking side to side.
Dad was waiting at the top of the steps, his expression as moody as the clouds overhead.
“We need to talk,” he said.
Rachel and I exchanged a look.
“What’s up?” I asked, blotting my eyes and resisting the urge to blow my nose in my shirt.
Dad looked me up and down. “You’re different.”
“I put an aloe mask on last night. It really helped with the redness—”
“No,” Dad said, shaking his head. “I mean you seem happier.”
I exhaled shakily. “I am, Dad.”
“I know your mother and I aren’t always the best at collaborating, but I do respect her input when it concerns you. Let me make the call.”
“Wait,” I croaked. “Seriously?”
He nodded once, sharply, and turned to the car, only to immediately double back, his expression suddenly determined. “You’re not a disappointment, Waverly. I never meant to make you feel that way. I just wanted you to have the chance to be as passionate about something as I am. I wanted to give you the best chance for success.”
“Thank you,” I croaked.
“Don’t thank me yet,” he said. “Your mother’s impossible.”
Rachel looped her arm around mine. Together, we waited for the verdict.
I took the stairs down to the beach two at a time, my heart in my throat and misty rain on my skin. The clouds were starting to open up. It didn’t matter anymore—I didn’t need the excuse to cancel my flight. I sprinted across the sand, which was really more of a slow-motion jog, since I still hadn’t figured out how to get my footing. It was infuriating. But the feel of the sand between my toes was glorious.
My friends were still standing out on the edge of the water, their backs to me.
“I bet you thought you got rid of me!” I shouted.
They turned in unison, their matching expressions of startled confusion so hilarious and so beautiful that my chest squeezed. I let out a peal of giddy, almost frantic laughter as I picked up speed on the damp sand.
“Well, jokes on you, suckers!”
I launched myself at Blake, tackling him backward into the shallow water. We landed with an enormous splash. Salt water went up my nose. I snorted and laughed harder.
“What the—” Blake spluttered as we sat up.
“I’m staying,” I said.
He went still. “You’re serious? Your dad—”
“Said I can stay. He called my mom and everything. They said yes. I can transfer, and they’ll ship anything I need, and—”
Blake cut me off with a kiss so sweet and so happy it made my toes curl.
Jesse, in only the way Jesse could, broke up our private moment by tackling us. Lena joined the dog pile next, and then, belatedly, there was Alissa, muttering something about getting her hair wet before Jesse dragged her down with us, a mess of limbs and sand and salt water.
For the first time in my life, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be.
The End
Acknowledgments
I began writing this book on Wattpad when I was fifteen years old, with a whole lot of feelings but no grand plans of publication. Now, over a decade later, I’m proud to present the final draft. This book is inextricably tied to my experience sharing it with an audience, so I have to begin by showing my gratitude to everyone who read this book while it—and I—were both works in progress. Thank you for waiting so long between updates while I tackled high school, then college, then my first big-girl job. Thank you for laughing at my jokes and being gentle when you pointed out my typos. Thank you for teaching me that there are always new friends to be found and chances to become a braver version of yourself.
To my editor, Deanna McFadden, who championed my work and saw right through to the heart of this story: thank you. Your optimism, your ever-sharp insight, and your patience have single-handedly gotten me through the editing process. To the rest of the Wattpad team, with special thanks to Monica Pacheco and I-Yana Tucker, thank you for advocating for me and my work. I feel incredibly lucky to have the support of such a talented, creative, and driven team.
To the group chat (Ivey Choi, Marianna Leal, Daven McQueen, Simone Shirazi, Em Slough, Natalie Walton, and Anne Zou) and to the Wattpad writers I have been mutuals with longer than the average marriage lasts: I am deeply honored to know you, you wonderful, insanely talented, wickedly funny people. And to my college friends who downloaded Wattpad just to read my book: I don’t think I can ever properly thank you for hyping me up and making me feel like my work is cool and worth celebrating.
To Christopher, for having the biggest heart and most infectious laugh (and for lying about your driver’s test results to make me feel better) and to Elizabeth, for being my best friend all these years we’ve spent sharing a bathroom (and for being exactly who I wish I’d been at your age): you both make me so proud.
And finally—perhaps most importantly—to my parents, Anne and Bill, who have always believed in me (even when I didn’t believe in myself) and who encouraged my writing even when it was objectively awful. I love you. Thank you for telling me not to go to law school. Thank you for the sacrifices you made so I could do what makes me happy. Thank you for the good advice, the unconditional support, and for telling everyone we have ever met, even tangentially, that your daughter is an author. I will never take for granted what a privilege and an honor it is to have you as parents.
About the Author
Kate Marchant started writing on Wattpad at fifteen and now holds a bachelor’s degree in creative writing from the University of Southern California. She lives and works in the San Francisco Bay Area. Float is her debut novel.
Copyright
An imprint of Wattpad WEBTOON Book Group.
Content Warning: language, death, discussion of drowning, teenage drinking
Copyright © 2022 Kate Marchant. All rights reserved.
Published in Canada by Wattpad Books, a division of Wattpad Corp.
36 Wellington Street E., Toronto, ON M5E 1C7
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No portion of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the express written permission of the copyright holders.
First Wattpad Books edition: February 2022
ISBN 978-1-98936-597-7 (Trade Paper original)
ISBN 978-1-98936-598-4 (eBook edition)
Names, characters, places, and incidents featured in this publication are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons (living or dead), events, institutions, or locales, without satiric intent, is coincidental.
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Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication information is available upon request.
Cover design by Sarah Salomon
Typesetting by Sarah Salomon
About the Publisher
About Wattpad Books
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