Page 9

I nod again. The air in the room feels charged with an electrifying sense of possibility, like Shal has somehow turned her pen into a magic wand that’s inking destiny onto the page.

Either that, or I really am the world’s biggest lightweight.

Whatever the reason for the sparks of potential skittering across my skin, I can’t stop Shal’s words from when we were out in the pool from echoing through my mind. This really is our last summer before adulthood kicks in. For the next two months, we’ll be caught in this limbo of newfound power without the weight of all the responsibilities September has ready to dump on our heads.

There will never be another summer like this.

Maybe Shal is right. Maybe I should want more from this summer than long afternoons with my books and quiet nights alone in the house.

“I want to read something,” I say before I have time to think about it. “Like, to an audience. Out loud. I want to get up on a stage and read something. Maybe I could pick one of my favourite poems or book passages or something.”

I can almost feel the glare of a spotlight beating down on my face as I imagine standing with a piece of paper clutched between my fingers, a shadowy mass of people staring up at me as they wait to hear my voice.

Of course, that image is accompanied by a wave of nausea so intense I cross my arms and grip my forearms hard, pressing the tips of my nails into my skin until my head stops spinning.

Priya gawks at my suggestion, but Shal turns back to the list and starts writing down the fourth item.

“Okay, open mic night!” she says when she’s done. “Let’s keep this momentum going. It’s your turn to pick something, Pri.”

It takes a few minutes and a lot of prompting from Shal, but I see the moment when an idea slips into Priya’s head. Her gaze shifts over to meet mine before darting away.

Something about her body language makes me feel like there’s a fist squeezing around my heart.

“What is it?” I ask.

She gives a little shake of her head. “Nothing. It’s stupid. It’s just…I think it might be nice to make a new friend this summer. You know, like, if we each made a new friend to practice for university, or whatever.”

She’s still not looking at me. My throat goes dry.

Her voice is pitched high with nerves as she rushes to elaborate. “Not that we aren’t going to be friends in university. Of course we will. We’ll be best friends. It’s just, we’re not even going to the same school, and—”

“I get it.” My words sound cold. I clear my throat and force my shoulders to lift in a casual shrug. “That makes sense.”

That’s the worst part. It does make sense—way more sense than the picture of university life I’d created in my head. When we talked about studying in each other’s school libraries and finding all the optimal lunch spots halfway between Carleton and Ottawa U, I thought that’s what most of our days would consist of, not just some of them.

I knew we’d find other people to sit beside in our lectures, just like we did for all the classes we didn’t share in high school, but Priya sounds like she’s looking for something different.

“It’s not like that, Naomi.” She reaches over to grab one of my arms. “I just—”

“It’s okay.” I hesitate for a moment, and then I place my hand on top of hers. “Shal, put it on the list.”

The mood lightens a little after Shal decides the next item on the list should be attending an insane pool party and Priya practically jumps on her back to try yanking the pen out of her hands before she can write it down.

The next round of list items only takes a couple minutes. I say we should go on a road trip, and Priya says we should film ourselves doing a dance challenge we have to post online. Then Shal says we should all get tattoos.

“NO!” Priya shrieks. “I call veto!”

“What?” Shal taunts, wiggling her eyebrows. “Are you scared?”

Priya tilts her chin up. “Actually, no. I’m just smart enough to realize that something I put on my body at eighteen years old probably isn’t going to be something I want on my body for life.”

“Yeah, that’s what makes it risky,” Shal shoots back, “and thus badass, and thus fun.”

I can’t help chuckling when Priya crosses her arms and asks how it’s possible she and her twin share the same DNA.

“How about this?” I suggest. “We make the category body modifications in general. That way we can get piercings instead if we don’t come up with any tattoo ideas.”

Shal snaps her fingers. “Yes. I like it.”