The Summer of Disaster

TW: Includes mentions of self harm, mental health, and substance abuse (alcohol).

I laid back in my bed, holding Jane Eyre above my head to read. I've been reading the same line for the past hour. I don't know why I haven't given up yet. Probably because my parents want me to get as much extra credit as possible with how horrible my grades have been. Tomorrow we're heading to the summer house, and I'm dreading it. We go to this house every year expecting it to be different and magical, but our family lost the magic a long time ago.

I roll over onto my side and drop my book into the floor, finally giving up. Who cares if I have good grades. This book won't even make a dent on my English grades. I stare at my blue walls and the clothes scattered all across my floor. Finally I swing my legs over and stand up. I start picking up my dirty laundry. I can't go on vacation without clothes, so I have to start now.

I pick up my crop tops, sweatshirts, jeans, bras and everything else scattered across the carpet. My arms are full, and the tower of clothing leans against my face so that I have to turn my head sideways to see anything. I make my way out of my room and down the hall to the laundry room. I start separating the darks from the lights, and I'm beginning to realize that this might take a few hours. I have too many dirty clothes to wash. Why didn't I start on this yesterday? I begin shoving the whites into the dryer, wanting to smack myself on the head for being so lazy. 

I don't know when I got so lazy. My parents were the first to notice it when my grades started dropping. My mom started the argument at dinner, asking where I got the nerve to disrespect them like this. My mom hardly speaks to me now because she still hasn't forgiven me for my grades. 

I head back to my room and look at Jane Eyre despondently. I have to get that book done, but I just can't focus. No matter how hard I try, I can't focus on the damn book. I walk over to my bed and flop onto the soft silky sheets. My eyes begin to drift shut, and I quickly fall asleep. 

~

I jolt awake as someone pounds on my door screaming my name. I quickly rush out of bed and open the door, face to face with my mother. She's already ready for the day with her hair curled and her makeup on. And she looks furious.

“What are you doing in here, Conchetta?” She demands looking around my room.

“Sleeping,” I say in a monotone. 

“It's ten thirty! You should be dressed already! Have you even packed?”

Oh, shit! I forgot about my laundry. I have one load still in the wash, probably plastered to the wall of the washer sopping wet. 

“Don't worry, Mom. I'm almost done,” I say trying to sound calm, while my heart pounds painfully fast. 

I quickly walk out of my room and down to the laundry room. I fling open the door and take out the sopping wet clothes, shoving them into the dryer quickly. Then I put a new load into the washing machine. I should have seen this coming. I’ve resigned myself to having a few pairs of clothes, and I’ll just go on a shopping spree sometime during the vacation. I haven’t gotten new clothes in a long time, so it won’t do too much harm to my bank account. 

I quickly get ready within the hour, putting on some black jeans and a red halter top. I put on my makeup, and I put my hair up into a ponytail before I run back to the laundry room to get my clothes and shove them into my suitcase. I’m already sweating when I take my luggage out to the door, and we load up the car and head off. 

The car ride is quiet and awkward. Mom is fuming in the front seat because of how late I’ve made us. I look out the window and put my chin against my hand, watching as the ominous gray sky passes by. 

My mind is spinning with questions and possibilities for this summer. Last summer was super boring except for hanging out with Ginny. Ginny lives near our summer house, and her family is friends with ours. Well, they pretend to be friends while both simultaneously competing with their wealth. It gets really annoying when all Mrs. Larkson solely comes over to gloat about her new yacht or her new diamond jewelry. I couldn’t care less if she wore a diamond tiara and invited us to a summer palace.

 After hours of driving and an innumerable amount of bathroom stops, we finally arrived at our summer house. I get out of the car, and the heat assaults me. I’m already sweating as I walk to the trunk and pull out my suitcase. Then I quickly drag my luggage to the front door and fling open the door walking into the AC. I sigh with relief, feeling sweat dripping down my skin. I drag my suitcase up the stairs to the first room on the right. This room has always been my room. It’s empty now, but I plan to make it feel more like home with some band posters and my stuff I brought. I let go of my suitcase and run to my bed, flopping onto the soft mattress and cold silky sheets. 

I lay there, basking in the coolness of the AC until I feel my phone buzz in my pocket.

“Wanna come over?” The text reads from Ginny.

I can't help but smile as I reply, “On my way over.” 

I swing my legs over the side of my bed and rush to the bathroom. I smooth down my hair and rub off the mascara under my eyes. I head downstairs hearing the quareling of my parents and am grateful for the excuse to get out of the house. I head out into the summer heat, walking down our cul-de-sac towards her house. I’ve just gotten outside, and I’m already sweating. I try to walk faster, hoping to get to her house soon.

I turn right and continue walking past all of the palatial houses. My heart is pounding with excitement, and I finally get to her driveway and run up the walkway surrounded by pretty flowers. She has a huge yard with a giant apple tree. I get to her door with the pretty glass windows on either side and ring the doorbell. I wait to hear footsteps rushing down the stairs, and finally the door is flung open. 

“Oh my gosh! Hi!” Ginny pulls me into a tight hug, and she grabs my hand pulling me up the stairs and down the hallway to her room.

She pulls me over to her bed where we both sit smiling and panting from the run up the stairs.

“I’m so glad you’re finally here!” she says excitedly.

Ginny’s short brown hair bounces with her animated gestures. The soft curve of her lips is mesmerizing to watch as she talks, and her eyes are a pretty gray that looks blue in some lights and green in others. It takes me a minute to realize I haven’t been paying attention to anything she’s saying.

“How is Aunt Tessa?” Ginny asks, looking at me earnestly.

I sigh before telling her all about my grades this past school year and the fights my parents have been having. I explain to her that my parents are super disappointed in me, and my mom will hardly even look at me.

Ginny’s brows knit together in concern. “Wow, that’s…”

“Shitty?” I finish. “Yeah, it is. But it’s my fault. I don’t even know how I got here.”

“Hey, why don’t we do something fun!” she suggests.

“Like what?” I ask hesitantly.

“I don’t know. We could go to a movie or drive around town- Oh! Did I tell you I got my drivers license?”

I shake my head and she beams with pride. “I got it a few months ago. I guess I forgot to text you.”

Ginny stands up and walks to her dresser, grabbing her jingly key chain filled with keys, hand sanitizer, pepper spray, and several souvenirs. 

“Come on!” she says, grabbing my hand, and I reluctantly follow her downstairs to her car.

At first we just drive around looking for something to do. But then we decide to see something at the theater. I walk in with her, feeling awkward and out of place as all the people around me are talking and laughing as they get their tickets and their snacks. I follow Ginny to the counter, and she orders a large popcorn. She’s talking to the guy taking our orders, and I can tell they know each other.

“Hey, are you coming to Tyler’s tonight?” he asks, setting the big container of popcorn on the counter.

The smell of the buttery popcorn wafts to my nose, and I can feel my mouth watering. I’m not really paying attention until I hear the mention of a party.

“Yeah, a lot of us are going to Tyler’s tonight. You should come,” he says.

I look at Ginny unsure, but she’s smiling widely.

“We will be there,” she says excitedly.

Then the guy gives us our popcorn without making us pay, and we head to the movie.

“Ginny, are you sure we should go to a party?” I start to worry.

“Yes, it’ll be fun! You’ll see,” she says, linking her arm through mine. 

We walk into the dark theater and find our seats. I slouch down into mine, unable to focus on the movie, only wondering what will happen at this party.

Ginny is too engrossed in the movie to notice my worry, and I’m grateful for the distraction. After the movie ends, we drive back to her house and start getting ready. She goes to her closet and picks out a short, lacy red dress handing it to me.

“Red is definitely your color,” she says smiling.

“Ginny, I’m not sure about this. What do people even do at these things?” I ask.

“It’ll be fine, Chetta. Relax,” she says reassuringly. I pull off my shirt and shorts then slip on the tight itchy dress. I look into the mirror and try to adjust the dress so that it sits a little higher at the neck. 

“Oh, my gosh! That dress is perfect!” Ginny exclaims before sitting me down on her bed. She grabs her makeup bag and wipes off my old makeup. I can’t help but feel a bit offended that she didn’t like my makeup, but then her soft fingers brush lightly against my face as she puts on my makeup.

Her scent drifts to me, smelling of vanilla and lavender. I keep my eyes locked onto the wall while she does my eyeliner. But she's getting the mascara, we both look at each other, and I can’t help but blush.

She looks like she's about to say something before handing me the mascara and walking over to her vanity. “I don’t want to poke you in the eye. I’ll start on my hair while you do that.”

I look at her confused, but I don’t say anything as I begin to layer on my mascara, using the little mirror on the back of my phone to see what I’m doing.

I finish my mascara, and she quickly grabs her purse and heads for the door. “We’d best get going. We don’t want to be late.”

I get up and follow her down to her car. The ride to the party is uncomfortably silent. I can’t help but glance over in her direction trying to figure out what she’s thinking. But her face is a mask of happiness, and I know I won’t figure her out if she doesn’t want me too.

We get to the party and Ginny gets out of the car, rushing inside ahead of me. I try to follow her. But she’s too fast, and I lose her in the crowd. The music is blasting, the beat vibrating through the entire house. People around me are dancing and drinking. A couple on the couch is making out, apologetically. I quickly walk through the house searching the crowd frantically for Ginny, but I don’t see her anywhere. 

“Hey, do you want a drink?” a girl with curly hair and a high pitched voice asks.

I shake my head, “No, thank you. I don’t drink.”

She just shrugs and drinks it herself. As I’m looking around the room, I finally see Ginny with a group of friends. She’s talking excitedly with them. I meet her gaze for just a second, and she ignores me. My heart sinks, and I can feel my anxiety rising.

Why did I come to this stupid party?

I can feel my breathing get shallower, and I head over to the table. I grab a drink and down it quickly, coughing as it stings my throat. I take another drink and down that one as well. All I can think about is making myself feel better. Why did she leave me like that? What happened?

I look out at the dance floor, and my head feels like it’s in the clouds. I walk out to the dance floor and start dancing to the music. My hips sway in time with the beat, and I can feel myself letting go of every care in the world. I forget about my fear of what people might think of me. I forget about my parents’ arguments. And I forget about Ginny who is just on the other side of the room.

I visit the drinks table a number of times, and by the time it’s dark outside, I can’t remember how many I’ve had. I head over to the drinks table, bumping into Ginny on the way.

She looks at me with concern as I sway. “Hey, let’s get you home.”

Ginny grabs my hand, but I pull away. “What do you mean? The party’s just getting started!” I slur.

The world is spinning, and I grab onto the table trying to steady myself.

“Yeah, well I think you’ve had enough for today,” she says, trying to pull me towards the door.

I yank my arm away trying to keep myself steady. Why is she doing this? It was her idea to go to this stupid party anyways, and now she wants to leave when I’ve just started having fun?

“Conchetta, please,” she says, giving me a pleading look.

“You can go on without me,” I say, picking up another drink. 

She walks over to me and takes the drink from my hand, setting it back down on the table. Then she grabs my arm and leads me towards the door. I don’t want to go with her, but I can’t control my feet. I can’t help but follow her as we get out of her car. After that I don’t remember anything else.

~

The rest of the summer is a disaster. Mom and Dad are so concerned with their social lives that they don’t notice me. I go to parties with Ginny. I know I have a problem, but I don’t know how to fix it. I go to parties and drink, and I really don't know how to stop. I desperately want to fix my life, but I don’t know how to feel okay again.

Even though Ginny and I hang out all the time, there’s still an awkward rift between us. I don’t understand what happened. At the beginning of summer, I thought things were going to be just like normal between us. But ever since that first party, she keeps her distance. She never texts me first, she doesn’t try to hold my hand or link arms like she used to, she doesn’t ask to hang out unless some of her other friends are there- I really don’t know what happened. All I know is that I monumentally fucked up.

But the worst part of the summer doesn’t happen until early august. My parents haven’t noticed anything about me except that I’m hardly every home and am probably making poor life choices. I’ve been wearing hoodies and sweatshirts constantly, which has made it really hard to enjoy being outside without the air conditioning. But one morning, I’m just about to put my sweatshirt on when my mom walks in.

I quickly scramble to cover myself, but it’s too late. The horror on her face tells me she saw everything.

“Conchetta, what the hell is that?” she asks.

“Nothing. I’m fine, Mom,” I try to say, my voice cold and emotionless.

“That’s not nothing!” she yells walking over to me.

She runs her cold hands along the hot scabs covering my arms. Her face fills with sadness before she pulls me into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry,” she rubs her hand in soothing circles on my back.

I can feel my chest heave with a sob, relieved that she knows I’m not okay and actually cares.

“We’re going to figure this out, okay?” she says trying to sound confident, but I can hear the tremble in her voice.

I nod slowly, clinging onto her more tightly.

She never got over seeing me like that. After that, she was always scared to upset me or stress me out. She never talked about my grades or her disappointment in me or my bad friends. That was the very worst summer of my life, and things never went back to the way they were.