Midnight Sun Read online

  Which gets me to thinking: I should probably share my stuff with him, too. And he’s just given me another perfect opening. But then Charlie breaks the silence before I get a chance to.

  “I love it down here. Especially when nobody’s around. It’s the best at night,” he says.

  I decide to offer him something other than my diagnosis. It’s still personal and close to my heart, but not quite as life altering as divulging my medical condition will be. “I remember my mom taking me here when I was little.”

  “Oh really?” Charlie sounds politely interested. He probably isn’t prepared for what I’m about to say next.

  “Yeah, I have this vivid memory of her letting me sit on her lap and showing me where to put my fingers on the guitar strings.”

  I take a breath as the mental picture washes over me full force. How can I miss someone so much who has been gone so long and who I had for such a short time to begin with? I touch the face of the watch I’m wearing, the one that was my mom’s. It always makes me feel closer to her. I imagine she’s somewhere up there among the stars now, light-years away, watching over me and keeping me safe.

  “This was hers, actually,” I add. “I spent so many days staring at this watch on her hand, hoping someday I could play like her. She died when I was six. Car accident.”

  Charlie goes silent. I hope I haven’t scared him away, that he doesn’t think I’m too damaged to get involved with. Because he doesn’t even know about the sun damage yet. I am pretty much damage central.

  “Wow, I… I’m really sorry,” he finally says. “Here I am talking about an injury that was all my fault. I really am a huge idiot.”

  I shake my head and smile up at him. “Not even. It’s okay. I promise. It’s nice to make a new memory here.”

  “Hey,” he says, taking my hand. “Let me make it up to you.”

  I follow him down the dock until we stop in front of a gorgeous, gleaming yacht. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before except possibly on TV, like maybe in a Kardashians’ vacation episode. He climbs aboard and offers me a hand up. I join him on deck.

  “This is yours?” I ask, my eyes as wide as the full moon. I don’t get it. I thought he said his dad’s business was shaky. This yacht must have cost them millions.

  “Not mine,” he replies, clearing that part up at least. “But I’m helping take care of it for the summer. It’s my job. So now you know what keeps me busy during the day. Your turn.”

  I go for the easy joke, which isn’t even a joke at all. “You haven’t guessed by now? I actually am that little vampire girl Zoe was talking about before.”

  I wonder if I should make it clear that I’m actually not kidding. Just get everything out in the open. Before it’s too late and I’m too invested and breaking the news has the potential for breaking my heart.

  “I had a feeling,” Charlie says. I’m pretty sure he has no idea I’m as serious as a heart attack, and at the last minute, I decide not to set him straight, at least not just yet. Maybe tomorrow. Not tonight. “But what the heck. I’ll take my chances with you anyhow.”

  He takes me on a tour of the boat, pointing out different parts of it as we go. “This boat is a Jespersen. Kevlar-reinforced mainsail. Deck is Burmese teak with bamboo inlays.”

  I touch each of the components as he tells me about them. They reek of class and wealth. “None of that means anything to me, but it’s so pretty!” I exclaim. “How do you know so much about boats?”

  Charlie slings an arm around my shoulder, and I snuggle into him. “Remember that scholarship?”

  I nod. The light of the stars and moon makes it look like he has a halo. Like he’s my own personal angel.

  “Well, they’re kind of related,” he explains. “The guy who owns this boat—Mr. Jones—is a Cal alum. Swam there just like I was supposed to. Once he found out about my scholarship, he kind of took me under his wing and taught me everything there is to know.”

  “That’s nice,” I murmur. “Having someone believe in you that much. Especially someone outside your family.”

  Charlie takes a big breath, then lets it out slowly. “Yeah. But it also sucks that much worse to disappoint someone like that. At least your family has to forgive you. I kind of feel like Mr. Jones hasn’t looked at me the same since the accident. Good thing he still trusts me enough to do this job, though.”

  “I’m sure he doesn’t think you’re a disappointment—”

  Charlie interrupts before I can finish the thought. “No, he definitely does. But it’s okay, really. If I can’t be in the water anymore, I at least like knowing I’ll be on it regularly. This boat is the only place I can really think these days.”

  I wrap my fingers around Charlie’s. “What do you think about when you’re here?”

  He stares up at the moon. “I don’t know. What I’m gonna do now that the future I was supposed to have isn’t going to happen. Where I want to go. Who I want to be. You know, minor things like that.”

  I laugh softly. “I completely and totally get it. I think about that kind of stuff all the time.”

  He looks at me, surprised. “You do?”

  I smile up at him. “Yup. More than you can imagine.”

  “Huh,” he says, digesting that piece of information. “You know what? One of these days we’ll have to sail around the bay, watch the sun set…”

  “That sounds perfect,” I say, and it does. Too bad it’s just a fantasy that can never happen. For now, though, I’m happy to revel in the unrealistic “someday.”

  Charlie’s eyes meet mine again. And as if hanging out on a gorgeous boat, the night sky behind us, the water rocking us gently, isn’t amazing enough, he leans in and kisses me. For real this time.

  It is pure magic, so everything I ever hoped it would be, I can’t even move or think or breathe for a second. But then instinct kicks in and I feel everything, everything. My nerve endings tingle, my brain is on fire, my heart is a goner.

  I wrap my arms around his neck. He pulls me even closer. The kiss just keeps going and going.

  And maybe it would never have ended, or at least not so soon, but the alarm on my watch interrupts us. It peals like church bells. We jump back from each other.

  I push the off button and shake my head. Why oh why do I have such an early curfew? I barely ever go out; you’d think my dad could let me have a few extra hours when I actually do.

  “You need to get home?” Charlie asks.

  I lean my forehead against his chest. I can hear his heartbeat, clear and strong. It sounds like home. “Sometimes I hate this watch,” I tell him even though I know it’s not the watch’s fault that I have an overprotective father, a mother who once wore it but can’t anymore, and a rare disease that means I can’t ever go on that sunset cruise with Charlie.

  We walk back to Charlie’s truck holding hands. He opens the door for me, and as I watch him walk around to his side, I decide that Real Life Charlie is even better than Daydream Charlie.

  Charlie stops the truck about a block short of my house.

  “What are you doing?”

  “You said your dad was a light sleeper.”

  “It’s nice of you to remember.” I can’t bear for this perfect night to end so I try to extend the conversation instead. “So when you’re out on the boat doing all that thinking, do you ever come up with any good options for next year? Now that you’re not going to Berkeley, I mean?”

  Charlie nods, a smile creeping onto his face. “Well, first things first, I’m gonna buy a new truck.”

  My eyebrows furrow together. I was expecting to hear maybe a volunteer service trip, community college classes, an internship. Instead, he gave me a truck. That isn’t a plan; it’s a thing. “Why? This one is cool.” It’s one of those old ones—it looks like it belonged to a farmer once. I love it.

  “Oh no, the new one is gonna be so much better,” he explains, his eyes lighting up at the mere thought of it. “It’ll have an extended cab with lift kits, chro
me rims, matte finish.”

  “Sounds awesome,” I say. “And expensive.” I don’t add: And you’re so much better than just wanting a truck. You should reach higher. You have so much potential.

  “Like I said before, you’re not the only one who’s really busy during the day,” he replies with a shrug. “I’ve been busting my butt, so I should have enough money for it by the end of the summer. And then, I mean, I don’t have any specific plan. Maybe I’ll use my nice new wheels to drive cross-country. I’ve been in a pool my entire life, so I haven’t gotten to see much else.”

  I nod. I know the feeling. I’ve never really been anywhere outside of Purdue.

  “What are you doing—”

  I cut Charlie off before he can get too specific in his questioning. I don’t want to have to lie to him anymore, even by omission. Not after he’s been so honest with me about his life.

  “Me? I’m not doing anything. I mean, I’m not going anywhere.” I know I’m talking too fast and kind of in circles. I hope he won’t notice. “I’ll take my online college classes, but basically I’ll just be… here.”

  Charlie laughs. “That sounds great, but I was gonna ask you what you’re doing tomorrow.”

  I fall back on the easy explanation. “Oh. Well. I’m busy during the day, but I’m free tomorrow night.”

  “Then I’ll be right here,” he tells me.

  I lean over and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. Then I get out and start running toward my house. But something kicks in before I get there. Call it my conscience, or Jiminy Cricket, or an angel on my shoulder. Whatever it is gives me an urgent message: He deserves the truth.

  So I turn around, walk back, and find Charlie still sitting where I left him. I take a deep breath. “I need to tell you something.”

  And I almost do it this time. Honestly I do. But then I see his face, so earnest and open. He looks at me like I’m the totally normal girl I wish I actually was. And I just can’t get myself to say the words.

  “I’ve never owned a cat,” I tell him instead.

  Charlie laughs. “No shit.”

  12

  The evening’s events leave me dreamy and floating and inspired. I spend the rest of the night composing a new song—“Love Rocks”—that I honestly believe is the best thing I’ve ever written. It’s complex, nuanced, and deep, an aesthetic I always strive for but haven’t actually achieved until now. Or at least I hope I have. I drift off to sleep with a huge smile on my face just as the sun is starting to rise.

  Morgan stops by after dinner. We’re hanging out on my bed when I grab my guitar and start strumming. I value her opinion above almost anyone else’s, so I want to hear what she thinks of my new song.

  I’m singing my heart out, really getting into it. But when I look up to see if Morgan is feeling it along with me, I notice she’s somewhere off in la-la land. She’s smiling down at her phone, fingers flying across the keyboard.

  I stop midsong and put down the guitar. “Who are you texting?”

  She looks up, winces, then tosses her phone under the comforter. “What? No one. Sorry!”

  “Morrrgannn,” I say, elongating the syllables in an attempt to sound menacing.

  She shrugs and mumbles something incoherent.

  “What?”

  More mumbles.

  “I cannot hear a word you’re saying. Can you speak up?”

  “GARVER,” she finally bellows. “I MADE OUT WITH GARVER.”

  I start smiling and can’t stop.

  “Shut. Up,” Morgan growls.

  “I didn’t say anything!” I say, smiling even wider.

  “Shut it.”

  I completely crack up. “I didn’t say a word!”

  Morgan turns beet red and pulls the blanket over her head. Through it, I hear, “He’s kind of cute, though, right?”

  “He’s very cute,” I assure her. “And sweet. And he obviously has good taste, because he’s in love with you. I even liked his chili.”

  “We both know that last part’s a lie. The chili was vile,” Morgan says, her voice still muffled.

  “Well, everything else I said was true.”

  As much as I’m loving the fact that Morgan is giving Garver a chance, I’m also worrying about how my dad is going to react to the fact that I have a date. Especially with a boy who has no idea about my XP. Dad will insist on meeting Charlie pronto. And when he does, he’ll definitely let the cat out of the bag. And then the date—not to mention any relationship we might be headed toward—will be ruined. Charlie Reed already has enough on his plate without adding me and my weirdo disease to it. I can’t deal with stopping this thing dead in its tracks before it ever gets a chance to really get going.

  A plan is forming in my head, and I need Morgan’s help to carry it out. I decide since I was so successful at acting like a normal teen last night—hello, beer pong and stolen kisses on a boat that belongs to neither of us kissers—I should keep it going today and lie about my future whereabouts.

  “Can I say I’m at your house tonight?” I ask Morgan. “I’m meeting Charlie later.”

  Morgan throws the blanket off her head and sits up. “You’re asking me to help you lie to your father so you can spend time with a guy?” I swear, she’s choking back tears, and Morgan never cries if she can help it. “I’ve never been so proud.”

  “You know what’s weird?” I say, grinning back at her. “I’m kind of proud of myself, too.”

  “Go. Go do it now,” she urges me, nudging me off the bed with her foot. “Before you lose your nerve.”

  I take a deep breath and head downstairs. I find my dad on the couch in the den sorting through photography portfolios. I feel awkward and weird, like he can see directly into my brain and already knows my plan.

  “What are you working on?” I ask. It’s a decent opener.

  “Grading papers,” he says as he holds a picture of a bird in flight up to the light. It looks pretty good to me. I’d give it an A.

  “But you hate giving a letter value to a photograph,” I say, repeating what my dad has told me a thousand times over. I’m working my way into the lie slowly.

  “It’s an impossible endeavor!” he tells me, putting down the photo and smiling. “So how was the party last night?”

  “Good. Great!” I begin, then I backpedal. Better he thinks I wasn’t enjoying myself so thoroughly. That will just lead to more questions, which will lead to more lies. “No, you know what, it was really boring. It was fine. It was nothing special.”

  My dad gives me a funny look. I try not to read anything into it. “Meet any fun people?” he asks.

  “What—no. I mean, yes. Everyone was special,” I stutter. “But no one was, like, very special. Everyone was equal. Which I guess makes them not special, technically—it was fun.”

  My dad raises an eyebrow but doesn’t seem all that suspicious. I slap a big smile on my face and rush into my ask before my nerves get the best of me. “So anyway, do you mind if I go over to Morgan’s tonight?”

  He looks back down at his work and says nonchalantly, “Of course. No problem.”

  I grab my bag and head for the stairs before I can blow it. “Great! I’ll go tell Morgan. She wasn’t sure you’d say yes, but I knew you would. You love Morgan! We all love Morgan! Okay then. Love you!”

  “Love you more,” my dad calls after me.

  I would normally add Not possible here, like we always do. Instead, I turn around and head back into the den. “I’m lying.”

  He nods. “You were rambling, so I kinda knew.”

  I sit down next to him on the couch. “I’m going to meet a boy named Charlie Reed, whom you’ve never met, but he’s really sweet and I know you’d like him and I really, really like him. A lot.”

  My dad’s jaw clenches. I can’t tell if he’s angry or just worried. Probably both.

  “Are you mad?” I ask softly.

  “I’m not happy that you lied to me,” he says.

  A pit forms in
my stomach. I hate disappointing my dad, who’s basically given up his entire life for me.

  “You know you can tell me anything,” he adds.

  “I know,” I say, hanging my head. “I’m sorry.”

  “Thank you for telling me now, though,” he says, relaxing a little. “So let me ask you something. Do you trust him?”

  I nod. I completely and totally trust Charlie. I know I can from the way he remembered my dad was a light sleeper and stopped a block before my house when dropping me off. The way he ushered me through the party last night and didn’t leave my side when he realized I was uncomfortable not knowing anyone. The way he made sure I didn’t have to drink the beer in any of the games we played, and the way he looked at me before—and after—he kissed me. “One hundred percent yes.”

  A long pause. Then, “Will I hate him?”

  I shake my head. “No, you really won’t.”

  “And he knows about—”

  I shake my head again. My dad’s opening his mouth to object, so I start talking again before he can say anything.

  “I haven’t told him yet. But I will!”

  “I’m not comfortable with him not knowing.” My dad’s voice is even firmer than before.

  A big lump forms in my throat. I will not feel sorry for myself, not tonight, not when everything is going so well. “I’ll tell him, Dad. I promise. I just need a little longer. Of being something more than just a disease.”

  “Oh, Katie,” my dad says, looking like he’s about to cry now, too. I know he wants to save me—from this disease, from potential heartbreak if Charlie walks away once I spill my secret, from my own mortality—and I also know, and he knows, too, that he’s powerless in the face of it all. He wants to help his little girl and he can’t. I imagine there could be nothing worse than that for a father.

  I shrug, tears brimming in my eyes. My dad’s jaw is set like stone. We stare at each other.