“Pretty normal around here. My brother had his oldest,” she points to JT, “when he was still in high school.”
“Wow,” I say, because all of my other thoughts are inappropriate to say out loud, like “holy crap!” or “run Summer run!” or “If I’d gotten pregnant in high school I think I would’ve killed myself.” Instead I say, “That must’ve been rough,” because God knows, I’m not in a position to judge.
“Eh,” she shrugs. “He’s an idiot. Don’t get me wrong, we love JT, but his mother, Mandy? She’s crazy. That’s why I’m watching him and Carly, because she took off two years ago.”
“Oh, so you babysit them every day?” I’m trying to follow this girl’s story and figure out why she’s telling me all of this and how I can possibly sneak away without her noticing.
She takes another gulp of soda and adjusts her top. Her skin is super tan. “Yeah, he works down in Myrtle when he’s not here working with Bobby.”
“Who?”
“My husband.”
“Oh.”
“My family owns the campground, so there’s always work here, but the guys also work at the marina. Well, Justin and Nick work at the marina primarily. Whit and Pete do sometimes, now that they’ve finished with school, but they all kind of go back and forth.”
I’m starting to get a headache.
“Enough about me, I hear you’re staying with your mom? She’s some kind of writer?”
I don’t even pretend to be shocked she knows this. I have a feeling we were a breaking addition to the campground newsletter. “She’s writing a book about some serial killer. Donald something.”
“Gaskins?”
“Yeah that sounds right. Donald Gaskins killed a whole bunch of people around here back in the seventies.” At least, I think that’s what she told me.
“Oh.My.God. You’re kidding right? Donald Gaskins, the serial killer from Florence?”
I shrug. “I think so.”
A huge grin spreads across her face. “Wait ‘til I tell Bobby. He’s obsessed with serial killers. He makes us watch all those biography shows and things. Personally, I think it’s gross, but he can’t get enough. Plus, there’s no one famous from around here, so Gaskins is like, one of our claims of fame.” She sighs. “It’s pretty typical the only local person worth writing a book about is a crazy guy who killed people out on the highway.”
Again, I’m not sure what to say and just offer up a lame, “cool,” in hopes she’ll stop talking, at some point. She doesn’t, so I settle into my chair, close my eyes, listen to the small waves hit the shore, the squeals of the children playing, and more small-town gossip than I will ever need.
Worried about thepink splotches on my skin, I attempt an escape about an hour later.
“You must spend a lot of time indoors,” Anita says. I pull my sundress over my head. “No beach trip for spring break?”
“Not me. My friends all did though.” I should have gone with them. If I had, maybe I wouldn’t be on the side of an ocean right now, living in a camper with my mother.
“Not enough money?” she speculates.
For some reason I tell her the truth. “No, I spent it with my boyfriend.”
Anita raises an eyebrow. “A boyfriend worth skipping spring break sounds pretty interesting.”
“He’s not my boyfriend anymore. So unfortunately, it was kind of a waste.”
“Oh, well that sucks,” she frowns. “Well, by the end of July you’ll be brown as a berry and you’ll have so many fun stories to tell your friends.”
Anita has no idea my friends are barely speaking to me, and even if they were I’m too embarrassed to tell them about this humiliating summer vacation. Not when they are all about to head to Europe on the school trip I busted my ass to get a scholarship to attend. Plus, I’ve endured enough humiliation for a lifetime. There’s nothing like getting caught with your pants down, literally, to make you reassess your life goals.
“Maybe,” I smile, unable to outright lie. I wave goodbye and leave her to her tabloid magazine and kids, taking the walkway back to my camper. Since ours is on the front row, it’s a short trip. I’m surprised, though, to see my mother outside the trailer propping up the blue and white-striped awning.
“Hey,” I say to my mom, dropping my chair and bag on the ground.
“How do you like it?”
