July 4th, 2085: little explosions

Gabby is 12, Charlie is 20, Ian and Ingrid are 22, Laney is 26, Andreas is 27, Kyle is 28, Carly is 30.


12:15pm:

"Pass it over," Gabby said. "Give me a try. Come on. I can do it. I’m pretty good. I mean, you're really good, but I’m pretty good too. Okay? Pass it over."


Sophia said, "But... you're wearing flippers."





It was Independence Day. Sophia, Benny, Charlie, and Gabby went to the beach early to snag one of the few grills and picnic tables. It was sunny and hot and they knew the beach would fill up fast. They'd camp out all day, slathered in sunscreen and waiting for the night to fall for the fireworks.

Gabby took to the water while Charlie and Benny went out to acquire some low-grade explosives—sparklers, sadly, were all they could afford. And for anything more, they'd just have to wait to see what the city put on. Sophia stayed at their picnic table to greet their guests as they trickled in through the afternoon.


"Hey, you guys," Sophia said. "Sorry, I don't think we've met before."

"Charlie invited us," Ian said. "Or me, and this is my twin sister, Iggy. She's a turd."

"Oh, okay. Yeah, Charlie mentioned you'd be coming along," Sophia said.

"I'm Ingrid, and I'm not a turd," Ingrid said. "He's the turd." They play-punched each other for a little while.

"Well there's beer in the cooler and hamburgers and hot dogs later, and I made pasta salad. Everyone's welcome here, turds or not. Glad to meet you."

—

1:00pm:

At the Lake County Police Department, non-essential personnel were being let out for the day at three o'clock, which meant that for most of the afternoon, the Forensics Department stood around shuffling papers and chatting and going back and forth to the break room for coffee.


There was a tense chatter in the room. It was a holiday, almost. They were working, but not. Laney felt like she was being watched, but when she turned around everyone was busy being distracted, chatting and waiting for the stroke of three.

Andreas wasn't usually so quiet, and if something had happened in the two days since she'd seen him last, she didn't know what it was.

"I've had four coffees already today," Laney said. "I can't concentrate, I don't know how any of you guys can. I have to stay until three, but you can go, if you want."

Andreas shrugged. "That doesn't sound very fair."

"Well, don't worry about the computer," she offered. "If you can't get it fixed by three, or whatever. It's no big deal. It's not like anyone will be here that needs it."

"I'm not worried about that," he said. 

—

2:00pm:

Charlie and Benny returned with firewood and sparklers. Half of them had been drinking since noon, so by two they were mostly wasted and ready to light things on fire.


“Charlie Fucking Roseland,” Ingrid said with a giant smile, and then Charlie noticed the woman standing next to him. “You probably don't even remember me. You were like, ten the last time we hung out. Shit, look how tall you got.”

Ingrid. He remembered. For as much as she actually looked like her brother, she’d grown into a surprisingly pretty girl. She was tall now, and strong. The last time Charlie saw her they were both still kids.

Ingrid glanced around. “Where’s Natty?”

That question, again. Everyone asked it so casually, like it was the most natural thing to ask. And he had to answer it over and over and over again, each time like a little dagger probing his heart. It was almost a worst torture than having lost Natty in the first place.

Ian shook his head, but Ingrid didn't stop.

“Awww, did you break up? No way! You guys were like peanut butter and jelly!”

Ian put a finger up. “Iggy, we're not calling it that,” he whispered. “It’s just a break.”


“Oh, sweetie,” Ingrid said and pulled Charlie to her chest, mostly naked, and he remembered being ten when she and Ian were twelve and how she had boobs before any of the other girls his own age, how hers were the first pair of boobs he probably ever noticed. He swallowed hard.


She spoke softly near his ear while patting his shoulder. “Relationships are such a pain, I don't think I know anyone who's made it work. Poor Ian here, too...” She went on some more about old-fashioned family archetypes and monogamy and the patriarchy and evolution and a dozen other things Charlie couldn't even think about because she had him clutched, her breasts squished up against his chest, and she smelled like day-old vanilla.

He pulled away from her hastily, feeling distressed and uncomfortable and full of pent-up arousal. “Sorry, I have to— Where’s Gabby? She might be drowning.”

He walked away quickly, cheeks flushed, sort of hunched over and lopsided to hide his huge boner.

—

2:45pm:

Andreas caught Laney by the staircase, where everyone was lined up and ready to bolt at the stroke of three. "Are you going down to the beach for the fireworks?" he asked her.

"No, I doubt it," she said. "My brother and sister are going, I can’t keep up with them. They’re young. They make me feel ancient."

"You're not ancient," he said. "If you’re ancient then what am I? I’m older than you are." Andreas smiled big, and Laney was happy to see him feeling more at ease than he had at the start of the day.

"Are you... you and Gwen going?"

"I don't know," he said. "She might have plans for us already."


"I mean it," she said. "If you're worried about the computer, I promise it’s no big deal. We’ll have Louis look at it in the morning."

"No, it’s not the computer." He started to speak, then stopped. Started again, then stopped. She waited for him. She grinned, blushing down at the floor. “It’s just, you never wear blue, do you?”

“Um, I guess not. Until today."

“It suits you,” he said.


Lord help me, Laney thought. Every atom in her body fluttered, tiny starbursts, and her heart sat at the center of it all being ripped apart by little explosions.

“Well I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then," he said. “Have a good time tonight, whatever you end up doing.”

—

7:30pm:




9:00pm:



9:30pm:

The sky clouded over, but there was no rain. Kyle found Ingrid at the beer keg and she invited him over to their fire ring for marshmallows. Neither of them had any intention of eating any marshmallows. Kyle didn't know what he was doing. Ingrid was fun to talk to, but he had no intentions of doing anything more than talk to her. The thing about Ingrid was that she was dynamite—she was loud and vivid and mostly naked, exuding sex and spontaneity. She’d had her hands all over several boys already at this beach tonight, one who seemed to have a girlfriend, another who was her brother, and yet more who tickled her and chased her, and one uncomfortable-looking boy she kept chasing around who kept shrugging her off.

Kyle knew he was only talking to Ingrid for so long because he and Carly were fighting. Again. 

And he knew he was only talking to Ingrid because sometimes it was nice talking to a girl like Ingrid, who was easy and fun, who was the exact opposite of Carly. But fun was an easy thing to be at Ingrid's age, fresh out of college, still just a girl in a woman’s body with a mind full of ideas she could hardly put into thoughts. She hadn't been hardened by life and disappointment yet.

Kyle wasn't so much older than Ingrid, but he felt forever older. He was twenty-eight now and too impatient for all of that. Carly had brought that out in him, but she seemed to fail to realize that she had actually done it. She’d changed him. She’d succeeded and he felt like a better man for it. Nobody had ever expected so much from him before. Carly always told him he was so much smarter than he gave himself credit for. Maybe she was right.

"Shit," he said as the fireworks started. He was supposed to be sitting with Carly, and she was gonna be pissed. "Gotta go."

Kyle came over just as Carly was about to give up and go home. She didn't even want to come out tonight. His eyes were dazed and he had that drunken smile that told her just exactly how much he'd had to drink.

Sometimes he reminded her so much of Joe, and not in a good way. Why did she keep falling for these flighty artist-types? Joe was a DJ, and in high school she'd dated a drummer who left her to go hook up with groupies for a summer. Now Kyle, the tattoo artist turned painter turned student and part-time custodial worker during the day. Why couldn't she fall in love with someone sturdy and dependable? An accountant? Or a dental hygienist?

"She's pretty," Carly said. "What's her name?" A sharp tone crept into her voice, she wasn't holding back. 

"Ingrid. I work with her," he said. "We work together at the gallery."

"She looks young."

"She is young. What are you accusing me of?"

He was going back to school now because that was what Carly wanted, but now all she could worry about were all those pretty, young artists he'd be spending time with, bouncy and bubbly twenty-two year-olds. It was hard for Carly to say she trusted him, because quite honestly, Carly didn't trust anyone but herself.


"I'm not Joe," he said. "I've changed so much, and I've done so much, and I did it all for you. What more do you want from me? What do I have to do to prove to you that I'm not like him?"

She didn't know. She didn't know one way or the other. She might have suspected, but she didn't know Joe wasn't the one until she'd wasted twelve years of her life already. Maybe she wasn't cut out for this. Carly knew there was only one person who would never let her down: herself.


"Shhh, you guys," April said, making a pouty face. "Kyle, why don't you go sleep over at our place tonight and you two can cool off and talk in the morning."

—

11:00pm:

The fireworks ended and the crowds cleared out, leaving the beach dark and empty for those who stayed. Charlie and Benny finished what was left of the warm beer keg, and Sophia and Gabby lit their sparklers up.

"Smile," said Ingrid's voice from behind them. She had her camera out. A flash in the dark.


"Aww, perfect!" she said. "You two look positively wasted. And Charlie, you even look happy."

Happy. The smile dropped from Charlie's lips.

She tossed her camera onto her beach bag and started talking to Benny about photo documentary.


Charlie was actually having fun, which was nice, but surprising. Was he forgetting about Natty? Could that happen? He didn't think he could ever forget about her, but it had been at least five hours since he'd thought about her last. He was out, he was having fun and meeting people and making new friends. It was everything Natty had wanted, but she wasn't here to see it.

She'd be proud. She'd say she knew he could do it all along. She'd put her hands on his cheeks and look him in the eyes the way she did that always made him feel a little taller and stronger and better than he was. He'd give anything to feel her hands on his cheeks right now.

Gabby had fallen asleep on a beach towel wearing someone’s over-sized sweatshirt, so Charlie went for a walk.



He wondered if Natty got to see fireworks tonight. He wondered if she even wanted to. Natty liked fireworks, but only the same way she liked scary movies or roller coasters or haunted houses—safely tucked underneath his arm. He wondered if she found someone else to put his arm around her when she got scared.

If she did, Charlie hoped it was her dad.

Charlie didn't hear Ingrid before she plopped down onto the sand next to him with wild enthusiasm.


“You just disappeared! What are you doing all the way out here?”

“I was enjoying the quiet,” Charlie said.

“I hate the quiet,” Ingrid said. “Your sister is a laugh.”

“She’s alright.”

“The fireworks were kind of lame, but I guess they probably don’t have the budget some other towns have. You know I was in DC last fourth, so amazing. Right over the capital.”


She stopped talking for one single second, and that was significant coming from Ingrid. “So this break...”

He sighed. “What about it?”

“Is she seeing other people?”

“She told me she wouldn't.”

“You believe her?”

“Yeah, I do.”

Silence again. Charlie held his breath.

“And what about you... are you seeing people?”


He pinched a smile, a little one, shaking his head. She was so forward, and so naked. “No,” he said.

“Huh,” Ingrid watched him in the dark for a moment, crouched on her knees still, half between staying and going and he still didn’t know which it was. She tilted her head a little, eyes soft. “Okay, I’ll let you enjoy your quiet some more." She play-punched him in the shoulder, a sinking giggle, like the end of a song. “You're a good man, Charlie Brown.”

She got up then, kicking sand behind her as she jogged back to their friends.

—

11:45pm:

The first time Carly broke up with Kyle, they’d only been dating three weeks. She said he looked like a party boy. "You don't know anything about me," he told her, even though she was actually right. That would be their next problem.

The second time Carly broke up with Kyle, they’d been together five months. She said at first he seemed mysterious, but then she realized he was just secretive, and she didn't trust secrets. She wanted him to want to know her too. She was too old to "just have fun". She'd thrown away twelve years of her life with a guy who just wanted to have fun.

The third time Carly broke up with Kyle, they’d been dating almost a year. He thought they'd come together quite nicely. They even started living together, but she wanted more direction than that. She wanted their life ordered and itemized. She was going places and she wanted to know if he was too. She was sick of hearing he'd taken on another part-time custodial job, because she'd seen his paintings and she knew he was so much smarter and more talented than that. She wanted more for him than he'd ever wanted for himself. Now he was studying art history and working as a gallery assistant.

This breakup would be number four, and he just couldn't keep doing it. Once she’d wanted an itinerary, because promises were no good. Joe had given her all sorts of promises. Words were fickle. She wanted more than just words, and he got that now. He wanted to give that to her. She'd asked a lot of him, but he realized they were things he should have been asking of himself. He wasn't a kid anymore. He liked that his life had direction now and that she'd done that for him, and he liked to hope both of their lives were headed in the same direction.

But she kept breaking up with him. She'd asked so much from him, but there was one thing he needed from her: a leap of faith.

Kyle sat in the sand on the beach for long enough for his buzz to wear off, and then he went to her, even though she'd asked him to stay away. She was already changed into her satin pajamas, with wet tissues tucked between the pillows and puffy eyes. She’d been crying.


"Kyle," she said, rolling out of bed. "I don't want to fight. I thought you were going to stay over at Beau's."

"No, I won't go sleep at Beau’s," Kyle said.

The princess and the party boy—they were never meant to last and yet he couldn't stop trying. He wouldn't have it in him forever, but he had this one last try. "I'm not going to keep doing this. You think you're protecting yourself from something, but you're not. You're only letting yourself down."

"What are you saying?"

"I’m giving you a chance to break up with me. For good. Just get it over with if that's what you want."


She took a breath so sharp Kyle thought he could feel it himself. "Now?"

"Right now," he said. "Break up with me for good, or else after tonight, it's off the table."

Her eyes filled with both tears and confusion. "You want to break up?"

"No, I don't want to break up at all. But I think you do. So if you do, I want you to do it now."

"Don’t you think we should think it through first?"


He took her hands. "You already know if you want to or not," he said. "We’ve been together over a year. You wanted the itinerary. You know."

"But I don't want to break up," she said.


"Then it’s off the table."

She laughed lightly. "You can’t tell me I can’t ever break up with you."

"That’s what I’m saying. I don't want you to ever break up with me again. I don't want to keep doing this, breaking up and getting back together again. On and off, again and again. Either we do it or we don't."

"What about Ingrid?"

"There's nothing about Ingrid. I’m not going to have sex with Ingrid."

"How do you know?"

"Because I know."

"You don't want to?"

"No, I kind of do want to. But I’m not going to."

She was speechless.

"Carly, I'm not Joe. I’m not going to lie to you. Every man on that beach tonight and even some of the women want to have sex with Ingrid, but most of us are not going to. I’m definitely not going to. She’s kind of annoying."


Carly started to smile then.

"So what’s it gonna be?" he said. "Are we breaking up or is it together forever?"

Carly smirked at him. "Forever?"

He took a breath and went for it with gusto. Now or never. "Yup, forever. I guess, after everything, I want an itinerary from you too."

"Does that mean...?"

"Marry me, Carly."

"Oh, God."


"Okay, sorry," he said. "I can do that better." He got down on one knee. "Carly, I love you. You're absolutely crazy, but I love you. I want to have a life with you, but first I need you to quit breaking up with me. For good."

"Okay," she said.

"Okay, what?"

"I’ll marry you."

———