The Palmer Pool

7 | Like a River

I wasn't sure why I re-enacted my conversation with Eric for Sophie, Laura and Kaitlin, but I immediately regretted it afterward. We were all hanging out in the den at my mom's house. There was a movie playing on the TV that nobody was paying attention to and we were washing down barbeque potato chips with Diet Coke.

Kaitlin split her time between us, her girlfriend Chloe, and her YouTube followers. She had curly blonde hair and blue eyes, played the piano and guitar and wrote songs that were sweet and steeped in nostalgia. She was basically a young Taylor Swift.

"So why didn't you just tell someone you had to go let Tommy out?" Kaitlin asked, not looking up from her phone.

"Hey!" Sophie said sharply, "Are you paying attention at all? She didn't have to go home, she left with some guy."

"Oh! Who?" Her blue eyes were wide.

I slowly shook my head.

"Come on, he can't be that bad," Laura urged politely.

"Said the girl who eye bangs every guy with a pulse," Sophie teased.

Of course any guy who'd be with me had to be equally embarrassing. My appearance and presence could both be primarily described as awkward. My hair was a wavy, untamed mess in a shade that might have been called "ash" something if it was on a box. Ash light brown. Ash dark blonde. Looks like ash. My wardrobe consisted almost entirely of thrifted t-shirts and cardigan sweaters, leggings and jeans. I made my torso a home for sad t-shirts that the Salvation Army would never sell otherwise, that said things like, "The Snodgrass Family Reunion 2012" and "New Baltimore Jingle Bell 5K 2010". I probably couldn't even be politely described as having a nice personality. I was usually quiet and reserved and people assumed that meant rude or stuck up.

"It was Garrett, wasn't it?" Kaitlin pried.

Garrett Murphy was my junior homecoming date. He was a tall red-head, kind of cute. We dissected a fetal pig together and he asked me out of the blue when we got to the heart, which was sort of romantic and mildly grotesque.  I said yes because nobody had ever asked me to a dance before and he was nice enough. It wasn't true love or anything, but my friends would not stop bringing him up.

"Nope. He's not my type."

"What is your type exactly?" Kaitlin asked.

"I don't know. Process of elimination, I guess. Garrett isn't my type."

"Well, at this rate you'll narrow it down and figure out your type when you're seventy," said Sophie.

"Okay, you're not exactly eliminating tons of types either."

"I don't need to. I've already met my soulmate." She grinned dreamily and sighed. Sophie had been infatuated with my older brother, Jason, for as long as we'd been friends.

"He's four years older than you. He has a girlfriend. He literally doesn't even know your name."

"Facts," Laura confirmed.

"He calls me Zoe as a joke. Eventually, it's going to work out," she said with conviction. I wished I could be that confident about anything. "So for now, Jason can waste his time with that depressing scarf girl, and I'll continue planning our future together."

A few weeks before, Jason brought his girlfriend, Simone, home for a weekend after their semester ended. She had no detectable sense of humor and was always talking about politics and depressing current events. And she freaked out when she caught Tommy playing with one of the scarves that she wore constantly, even with short sleeves, which didn't make any sense to me. She scoffed and "OK Boomer"-ed me when I commented that it was interesting that her neck was cold and her arms were warm.  My stepdad made a gross comment when she was out of earshot about how the scarves were probably hiding tons of hickeys and my mom got pissed at him.  It was a spectacular weekend.