Page 52 of The Starfish Sisters

Suze’s Private Journal

November 9, 19—

Dear Diary,

I had to buy a new journal to write in, because this is just to you, not to Phoebe, because I want to keep this for myself, or maybe I’m worried about what she’ll think or ... I don’t know. I don’t want to write this in the journal wetrade back and forth. Too many chances that somebody will read it and I’ll get in trouble. So much trouble.

I am no longer a virgin. (!!!)

Today, Joel and I walked up to the house and took our blankets and picnic and spread everything out on the bedroom floor, which looks right out at the ocean, and finally, we took off all of our clothes and were completely naked with each other, looking and touching and kissing and, oh, doing all the things we’ve learned about each other’s bodies until now. I thought I would be scared, but his body, all long and lean and smooth skin, his thighs and belly, his hair falling around me like a black curtain, him wrapping up in my hair, tying us together like my hair was a cloak, all of it made me feel like I was melting, melting into him, him melting into me, like we were becoming a new creature. We did become a new creature, something made of love and kisses and hope and possibility.

Love,

Suze

PS We used a condom, but I’m going to ask Beryl to help me get some birth control pills.

Suze

All through the winter and spring, Joel and I learned each other’s bodies. Every second we could, we stole away to touch and kiss and look and try things—everything. It was thrilling and dangerous and fun and we were so much in love we lit the skies. I was incandescent, and Joel walked like he knew his worth.

Most of the time, we were in his bedroom while his mother worked. One late May day was hot and he took off his shirt and I took off mine and we took our time, kissing and touching, and laughing.

I will never know how long Joel’s mother stood there. Probably not long, considering, but we didn’t realize we were being observed until she clapped her hands hard and cried out his name. “Joel Minough, are you out of your mind?”

We broke apart, pulling the covers over us, backing away from her rage. At first that was all I could think of, getting away from her, but then she cried, “Her father willkillyou. Not threaten, actually kill you.”

“Mom!” he began. “We’ve been careful, just like—”

“I didn’t mean with the daughter of the craziest man in the entire town.”

“Please don’t tell my dad!” I cried. “Please. I’ll do whatever you want.”

She yanked the sheet, exposing us both, and I clapped my hands over my breasts, pulling my hair around for modesty. “Get up and get dressed now. You”—she pointed her finger—“go home right now.” Her angry gaze turned to Joel. “And you are going to your father’s house the second this semester is done. And if I catch the two of you within a half mile of each other in the meantime, I’ll do the beating myself.”

“Mom!” he protested.

She slammed out of the room, and we stared at each other for a long moment, both of us sensing that everything was lost. I flew to him and kissed him, and he held me hard. “Get dressed.”

So I did. And I walked home with the greatest sense of disaster I’d ever known. Even then I knew something worse was coming.

CURRENT DAY

Chapter Fourteen

Suze

Phoebe brings Jasmine over in the late afternoon on Friday. The weather is surprisingly mild, sunny and not at all windy. “Let’s go have a picnic at the beach,” I suggest.

“Cool.”

We don layers in case a squall moves in, then head the back way through town so we can stop by the little grocery that’s been on Main Street ever since I can remember. We pass the lot where the church once stood. Wild gooseberry and kinnikinnick and wildflowers have covered every inch of the burned shell. The house still stands, abandoned. I wonder why no one has ever bought this lot and built some holiday homes, but I feel the hauntedness.

“This place is creepy,” Jasmine says, taking my hand.

“It is. My dad had a church here,” I say, surprising myself. A knot of unresolved anger twists through my diaphragm. “It burned down.”

“Did he die?”