Dedicated to the above because she's been commenting recently and all her comments are so super-de-duper nice and make me grin like an idiot (: thank you!

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          Twelve

          “It’s not that cold, Bam.”

            I shake my head and keep my arms folded across my chest. The gesture must seem childish to Hadley, but I’m not trying to be defiant, I just do not want to get into the water.

            “I’m good.”

            “Bam,” Hadley sighs. “Just come in. At least up to your knees.” Just when I open my mouth, she cuts me off. “And don’t you dare say you’re good again, because you’re not.”

            I narrow my eyes and try to hide my smile. “And how do you know?” I ask.

            Hadley tries to splash me from the shallow end of the beach and I take a step back, hugging my sweater tighter to my chest.

            “Because you’ve been in Mermaid for almost a month and yet you still haven’t been swimming!”

            I smile and walk towards where the waves are lapping at the sand. Avoiding Hadley’s eyes, I raise my bare foot and touch it gently into the cool water. When I retract it, Hadley rolls her eyes.

            “There,” I say.

            Hadley frowns. “That doesn’t count.”

            Eventually I end up wading into the refreshing water until it’s up to my knees. I keep my shorts and long-sleeved cover up that has more holes in it than cheese on, not daring to even tease my friend with going further into the water.

            “How’s your mom’s painting coming along?” I ask, trying to change the subject. “She seemed really excited to get started.”

            Hadley nods and turns away, watching her feet as she kicks at the sand on the bottom. “She was, but she hasn’t really done anything more. She’s stick for ideas.”

            “Oh,” I mumble.

            She looks up at me, pink and blue strands falling close to her eyes. “So what happened to you the other day? You seemed upset and just kind of left…”

            I avoid her eyes and finger the fabric on my hole-y sweater. “I just saw somebody I thought I recognized.”

            “And you didn’t?”

            “No,” I lie.

            I honestly don’t know why the word leaves my lips. There’s no reason for me to lie – I told Evan that I knew her without telling him who she was or how we were acquainted. But once the word comes out I can’t take it back, and somehow, lying about the truth makes me feel a little bit better about it. If not much, a small, tiny fragment. It’s like the truth is really the lie.

            “I saw you drive by with Evan a few days ago, too.” I meet Hadley’s eyes and see that she’s smiling.

            “We went into town to run some errands,” I say, swirling my toe along the sand. I make a heart and a wave quickly washes the indents away.

            “I’m glad you two are getting along,” she says truthfully. “He’s really come a long way.”

            I look up briefly, confused. “What do you mean?”

            Hadley meets my eyes and quickly looks away. “Nothing,” she says suddenly. “I didn’t really mean anything.”

            “Oh.”

            I don’t really know what to say so I turn towards the horizon, watching the sun slowly sink towards the ocean. It won’t be down and dark for hours from now, but I feel like I’m already tired and ready for bed. After Evan and I went into town, he had to drop me off because his mother wanted him to go somewhere with her. Since then, I’ve been at home, hanging my remaining pictures and lying on his deck. I still haven’t given his sweater back.

            “My mom invited you for dinner,” I say to break the silence as we slowly walk towards the shore, taking our time. “I don’t know what she’s making, but you’re welcome to come.”

            “Thanks.” Hadley smiles, some of the awkwardness going away but still hanging around us.

            On the beach, Hadley drives off with her towel and runs it over her damp hair. When she removes it, her hair is messier than before but somehow she pulls it off. Even without makeup and crazy coloured hair she’s pretty.

            “So is it just you, Evan and I or are we just the only teenagers around here that actually go outside?” I ask. Hadley’s flip flops smack against both the ground and her heels as we walk along the sandy pavement. I reach my arms up, stretch them over my head and let the fading warmth of the day seep into me.

            “There are others,” Hadley says, “but a lot of them live on the other side of Mermaid and don’t venture out by your place. They rarely go to your side because the downtown and main beach are back, closer to their places.”

            “It sounds like it’s divided,” I reply.

            “It’s not,” she assures me. She gives me a smile and looks down at the ground, kicking a small stone before looking up again. “I was actually going to invite you to this friend of mines bonfire in a few days from now. It’s not a party-party, just kind of a small get-together on the beach.”

            I turn my head away. “Parties aren’t really my thing.”

            “It’s not a party-party,” she repeats.

            “Get-togethers aren’t really my thing.”

            Hadley smirks and shoves into me, pushing me a little bit. “You can invite Evan.”

            My cheeks flush and I avoid her gaze. “Alright, alright, I’ll go.”

            “Welcome to our lovely mansion!” Dad says, surprising me by swinging the front door just as Hadley and I hit the stone walkway. I flinch slightly but Dad just smiles, holding his arms out as if to gesture to the giant house he’s envisioning in his mind. “It’s nice to meet you, Hadley.” He formally shakes her hand, grinning the entire time.

            “Way to go overboard,” I mutter, starting to walk past him.

            Dad stops me. “And who might this be?”

            I narrow my eyes. “Dad.”

            “Just playing, kiddo.” He pats my head and I have to run my fingers through my hair to make sure I’m not pulling an eighties style. “We have another guest inside.”

            I raise my eyebrows and linger outside the doorway for a moment. Hadley already looks lost, unsure of where to go and she’s only standing in the front foyer.

            “Who?”

            “Max.”

            Despite the fact that Max seemed very night on the boat, my stomach falls slightly. It’s almost as if I was excited to bring a friend home for the first time in months and now I’m getting side-shined, maybe even outshined. For once, I was looking forward to my mother’s ridiculous joy in seeing me be a normal teenager.

            I brush past my father and into the cottage. Sounds of talking drift towards us from the kitchen and I quickly take off my shoes. Hadley follows in suit.

            “Let’s go up to my room,” I say quietly, hoping to pass my mother and Max by without having to say hello. I quickly dart pass the small opening where my mother could see me from the stove and start taking the stairs two at a time.

            “Slow down,” Hadley groans, barely making it up two steps. She looks up at the tower, her eyes as wide as saucers. “This is so cool.”

            “Yeah, yeah.” I wave my hand, ushering her up. “Hurry up.”

            “I’m guessing you’re not a fan of Max?” she asks once we’re in my room. Hadley stops suddenly, looking around as if my room is the most interesting place in the word. “This is amazing,” she breathes.

            “He’s nice,” I respond. “I just don’t want to get caught up in the kitchen.”

            “Wow.” Hadley walks over to my wall of photos and looks them all over like they’re a piece of art. Her eyes never stay on a photo long before they quickly move onto the next one. I’m glad she doesn’t ask questions. “This is really cool,” she repeats.

            A short time later we end up sitting on my bed. I play with the comforter between my fingers as Hadley continues to look around.

            “You never saw my room, but just so you know, this room definitely tops it.”

            Dinner is a never-ending conversation of my father asking people questions or suggesting they tell a story. I quickly get bored, pushing my peas around my plate with my fork and zoning out. There’s only so much excitement I can take, and somehow, it’s all about Max. I don’t know what’s so interesting about him to my parents in comparison to their anti-social daughter having a crazy-coloured hair friend over for the first time in months. In my opinion, I’m like Canada and Max is like Hawaii – he’s so far off that he’s a fraction of a country while I’m a whole.

            “Right, Bam?”

            I look up and the pea I was pushing up the side of my plate rolls down and mixes in with my gravy. I decide against eating it.

            “Huh?”

            “I was just saying that you and Hadley should come out tomorrow on the boat. We’re going to be tagging a whale and it will be a good time to get some close up photographs.” He turns to Hadley, his face full of warmth. “It sounds kind of boring but it’s actually a lot of fun. Bam came out a short while ago and she got to touch some of the whales.”

            Hadley grins and looks like she’s completely into the conversation. “That sounds amazing.”

            “What do you say, Bam?”

            Four pairs of eyes are on me and I have to look away. I hate being put on the spot. Despite the fact that it might be nice to go, I’m slightly upset at how tonight is going. Everyone is acting happy and I’m sulking. I’m the only one not having a good time because I’m the only one who cares that I’m unhappy.

            “It’s supposed to be warm,” Max says. He catches my eye and he smiles slightly. “You two could go swimming off of the boat.”

            “When we’re a safe distance from the whales, of course,” Dad adds.

            “Sounds like fun.” My voice is anything but excited.

            After dinner my mother asks Hadley and I if we can do dishes while she talks to Max and my father. I don’t respond but grab my plate and rise to my feet with Hadley mirroring my movements. As soon as we walk through the doorway and onto the tile the sounds of my mother’s laugh fill my ears. I cringe.

            “Tomorrow sounds like it’s going to be a lot of fun,” Hadley says. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her this excited before but even though I want to be happy with her, I’m still annoyed. “Are you going to take some pictures? If you do, I’d love copies, if that’s okay.”

            “It’s okay,” I reply.

            I set my plate in the sink and return into the foyer to collect the others. As soon as I enter the room everyone hushes and looks at me like I’m some kind of walking zoo animal. I stop when I see that my mother is the only one at the table, putting the dishes in a pile for me to collect. I take one she hasn’t grabbed and glance upward, looking for the others.

            My father and Max are in the living room, looking over the framed pictures we brought from the house. When I see the brown, shiny wooden frame in my father’s hands, my grip on the plate tightens. I feel my fingertips ache so quickly that I’m scared the plate might break. Before I can think straight everything is a blur. I’m already storming towards the two men.

            “Hey,” I snap.

            I quickly grab the photograph from my father, ripping it out of his hands. They quickly open to let me take it, his face plastered in shock. I push the thought of upsetting him from my mind and spin on my heel, practically running towards the other door into the kitchen. Max says something to my father behind me, who is speechless. My knuckles on my hand gripping the picture turn white. Both my hands are screaming at me.

            “Hey, Bam.”                                 

            Max gently grabs my shoulder as I reach the kitchen. Hadley’s setting something down in the sink, looking up at me with wide eyes. Unlike before, I can see the worry in them. She knows something is wrong.

            Looking down, not only my hands, but also my arms are stark white.

            I knock Max’s hand off as I slowly turn around, anger seeping through me. I don’t realize my teeth are clenched until I open my mouth, ready to tell him to go back to my father when my jaw starts to hurt. However, I don’t get my chance to speak. Max’s face looks grim as he leans slightly forward, towards me. At first, I think he’s about to do something strange like kiss me but he’s just reaching for the plate.

            “I’m sorry for your loss,” he says.

            He doesn’t grab the plate as my fingertips let it go. It slides out of my clammy hand and shatters onto the ground, creating a huge mess. Within a second both of my parents are rushed into the room, looking over the scene with at first, shock. When they see me and the photograph in my hand, they darken. They look disappointed. They look sad.

            I don’t say anything as I rush past them, not staying to clean up the glass mess I’ve made. Hadley can go home and never talk to me again. She can think I’m crazy for all I care. Max can go away too. He ruined my night before he ruined me.

            “I’m so sorry,” Mom says when I reach the stairs. She’s apologizing to Max and Hadley, as if this is my fault and I’ve done something wrong.

            “It’s been hard,” Dad says.

            “I shouldn’t have said anything.” The voice belongs to Max. I hover on the first step for a moment, holding onto the railing with my left hand. “Should I go apologize?”

            “No, no, it’s fine,” Mom says. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Alabama is in the wrong; you were just trying to be nice.”

            Seething, I shoot a glare through the wall and into the kitchen. I’m up the stairs and on my balcony with my camera before I can cry. As soon as I feel the tears coming, I spin the camera around and take a picture of my face with a blank expression in black and white. I no longer feel the need to cry.

            I blare The Ink Spots hoping it will show as a sign that I don’t want to be talked to; don’t want to be consoled. I sit with my legs between the bars, swinging them slightly in the ocean air. Eventually Cat comes to sit beside me, and I don’t know how long it’s been. Long enough for a car to leave, the rumble of the engine barely audible. Cat nudges my side and I do not pet him. I’m not in the mood for affection, whether to be the one to give or the one to take.

            I know I’m not alone when the music quiets. It still plays, the crackling sound of a guitar strumming quietly behind me. Unexpectedly Hadley sits down beside me, sticking her legs through the balcony bars as if she’s done it a million times.

            “Hey,” is all she says.

            We’re both quiet for a long time.

            The photograph is buried underneath random things in my bedside table drawer. It’s one of Cade and I, one my parents took not long before he died. They brought it without asking me, even without telling me. When I saw it, they said he’s a part of our family. They didn’t mention his death.

            “I don’t know what happened,” Hadley says quietly after a long time, “but I want you to know that I don’t think of you any differently.” The wind blows our hair into our faces. We reach to brush it out of the way at the same time. “If you want to talk about it with me, I’d be glad to listen. If you don’t want to, I won’t push you. It’s your stuff. I have stuff too and if somebody I didn’t know too well tried to talk about it with me I’d be pissed too.”

            “Thanks,” I say.

            We watch the waves until she leaves.