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I didn’t write back, but I drew Gat silly crayon drawings of the two of us Stick figures waving from in front of the Colosseum, the Eiffel Tower, on top of a on He stuck them up over his bed

He touched me whenever he could Beneath the table at dinner, in the kitchen the moment it was empty Covertly, hilariously, behind Granddad’s back while he drove theas no one was looking, I ranGat’s cheekbones, down his back I reached for his hand, pressed h his veins

12

ONE NIGHT, LATE July of su at the tiny beach Alone

Where were Gat, Johnny, and Mirren?

I don’t really know

We had been playing a lot of Scrabble at Red Gate They were probably there Or they could have been at Clair beach plum jam on water crackers

In any case, I went into the water wearing a camisole, bra, and underwear Apparently I walked down to the beach wearing nothing more We never found any of my clothes on the sand No towel, either

Why?

Again, I don’t really know

Irocks in off the shore, craggy and black; they always look villainous in the dark of the evening I must have had my face in the water and then hit my head on one of these rocks

Like I said, I don’t know

I reed down into this ocean,

down to rocky rocky bottom, and

I could see the base of Beechwood Island and ers were cold Slices of seaent past as I fell

Mummy found me on the sand, curled into a ball and half underwater I was shivering uncontrollably Adults wrapped et ave , they brought me to a hospital on Martha’s Vineyard, where I stayed for several days as the doctors ran tests Hypothermia, respiratory probleh the brain scans turned up nothing

Muray faces of Aunt Carrie, Aunt Bess, and Granddad I re after the doctors judged theain, even when they told me my body temperature was normal My hands hurt My feet hurt

Mummy took me home to Vermont to recuperate I lay in bed in the dark and felt desperately sorry for myself Because I was sick, and even more because Gat never called

He didn’t write, either

Weren’t we in love?

Weren’t we?

I wrote to Johnny, two or three stupid, lovesick e him to find out about Gat

Johnny had the good sense to ignore them We are Sinclairs, after all, and Sinclairs do not behave like I was behaving

I stopped writing and deleted all the emails from my sent mail folder They eak and stupid

The bottoot hurt

The botto

The bottoht have loved Raquel

We lived too far apart, anyway

Our families were too close, anyway

I never got an explanation