seventeen going under - jeremiah fisher

ch. 15

I told Susannah I didn't want to play in the volleyball tournament. She was sad, of course. She begged me practically on her hands and knees, pleading with me that "all the debutantes are doing it" and "it would be good to give back" and "don't you want people to remember you?"

And honestly, no. I didn't want anyone to remember this night except Susannah. If I could, I'd have dressed up just as nice and put Jeremiah on my arm and waltzed around the living room while she drank wine and clapped like we were little kids again rehearsing for our school musical. If I could, I'd burn this memory out of everyone's heads.

The volleyball tournament was where I drew the line. I will not be putting on baseball tees that were printed from some shady website with my name on it and I will not be making Jeremiah wear a matching one. I also am not the most athletic of the bunch but that was one of my last excuses. Jeremiah was, of course. I'm sure he would kill a volleyball tournament enough for the both of us but I could not, and would not, risk sand in my mouth in the name of Susannah Fisher. It didn't matter that it was raising money for good causes. The good cause was saving my knees.

She pouted for a while, asking me over late brunch again and again if I had changed my mind. I kept telling her no until eventually, my mom had to tell her to stop asking. "If you don't be quiet, she'll back out of the ball completely," she threatened one day while we all stood around the kitchen island. I hadn't threatened that, of course, but at the time Jeremiah hadn't agreed to be my date so the thought was more than tempting.

After that, Susannah stopped asking. She flaunted Belly's neon green shirts that read TEAM BELLY on them and Shayla's highlighter yellow one that read TEAM SHAYLA. Just because Steven had to wear it, didn't mean I did. I smiled and nodded at her while she showed them off and then I disappeared in the backyard.

I wondered if maybe I should be making more of an effort. Maybe I should have signed up for the tournament and wore an ugly shade of yellow too or maybe I should be spending more time with her while she baked in the kitchen instead of sticking my finger in the wet batter and licking it off like an animal. Despite knowing Susannah is nearing her end, it hasn't quite hit me the way I think it should have. I think I'll be living in denial as long as Jeremiah is in the dark. His ignorance is my ignorance.

Despite not participating in the event, I still dragged Jeremiah along with me to watch. He was going to go anyway, to cheer on Belly, but we drove together and grabbed lemonades the size of our heads and sat down on the sidelines. Susannah made an announcement, telling everyone how to donate and the excitement in her voice panged me with guilt and regret.

"She loves these things," Jeremiah said as he leaned into my shoulder. His mom was beaming on the court. Not even the giant microphone in her face could hide her smile. It was infectious and I'm sure, the reason every event every year was a success.

"Did Conrad have to do this last year?" Jeremiah laughed and nodded his head, remembering. "I wish I had stayed to see it."

"It wasn't that eventful. The only reason Mom made him escort Nicole was because her date dropped out last minute and he already knew the waltz."

Susannah stepped off the court and announced the first team. It was a normal bracket style tournament. Two teams faced off and whoever won moved to the next round. So on and so forth until there were only two teams left. The teams lined up against the fence, watching each game as if they were studying the players. It reminded me of when Conrsd would play chess. How focused he would get on whatever move his opponent would make next.

Jeremiah would stare off aimlessly into the distance, not paying attention to what Conrad or I did and then ask, "what happened?" But Conrad would stare. He'd plot. He'd stick his tongue out in pure concentration.