Deep End(98)

“. . . don’t see the problem, Alex! I’m committed to her. I’m not going anywhere. If she wants to call me Mom—”

Dad’s response, in the tone that made my guts churn and my skin goose bump. Not being hungry anymore. Crawling back upstairs and drinking from the Dixie cups in the bathroom, the ones Barb had bought for me to rinse my teeth.

She is, indisputably, the best thing that ever happened to me. I wondered for years why she kept her married name after the divorce, and at eighteen I realized that it wasn’t because it was Dad’s—but because it was mine.

I turn to her and say, “You can just say grandmother, you know?”

“Mm?”

“If I ever have a kid—which for the purpose of this conversation would be grown from the mitosis of cells scraped from my cheeks, since I conduct myself very contraceptively—they wouldn’t call you step-grandma.”

“I know, honey.” She lets go of the steering wheel and wraps her fingers around mine. Barb and I rarely do this. Have moments. Sap. “They’d be required to call me Dr. Vandermeer, of course.”

I snort and pull my hand away.

That night I stream a movie, and send Lukas a picture of my computer screen. I get a reply when the credits start rolling—eleven for me, 6:00 a.m. in Stockholm. Yup, I can calculate the time difference like a pro by now.

LUKAS: I knew it would come to this.

I laugh.

SCARLETT: “This” being me watching Midsommar?

LUKAS: I should have taken preventative measures.

SCARLETT: Mandatory follow-up question: do you actually celebrate Midsommar?

LUKAS: Yes.

SCARLETT: And do you . . . ?

LUKAS: Go out of town to dance around the maypole, play sack races, eat pickled herring? Yes.

SCARLETT: Interesting.

LUKAS: Just ask about the sex rituals, Scarlett.

SCARLETT: I don’t want to be culturally insensitive, but I need to know if they happen.

LUKAS: How disappointed would you be if I said no?

SCARLETT: Immensely.

LUKAS: Problem is, we mostly celebrate Midsommar with our extended families. Siblings. Parents. Grandparents.

SCARLETT: That’s too kinky even for me.

LUKAS: Figured. You should come visit next summer. See for yourself .

SCARLETT: You’re luring me there with the promise of depraved sex rituals, while planning to use me for depraved human sacrifices.

LUKAS: It’s a real invitation. Ideally you should come when Jan’s here.

SCARLETT: Why?

LUKAS: Keeps telling everyone how amazing you are. Pulling up videos of your dives to show every Blomqvist in a thirty-kilometer radius.

SCARLETT: You need to stop him.

LUKAS: Why? I like watching you.

It’s not normal, the speed of my heartbeat even though I’m lying down. I’m an athlete in peak physical condition, goddamn it.

SCARLETT: He probably thinks we’re dating. We should set the record straight.

LUKAS: Or maybe we should just start dating.

I stop breathing. Freeze. Did he really—

LUKAS: I checked. This year Midsommar overlaps with the US Olympic trials, and as much as I want you in Sweden, I want you to come to Melbourne with me more.

I force my heart to slow down. My head to stop spinning.

SCARLETT: You’re optimistic, huh?

LUKAS: I’ve just seen you dive, Scarlett.

LUKAS: Come after the trials. Taper here. You’ll love the quiet. And the hikes.

I fall asleep with my phone in my hand, and dream of the midnight sun.





CHAPTER 51


IN JANUARY, LUKAS IS ACCEPTED TO STANFORD MED.

My reaction is . . . complicated, but only because he tells me while we’re in the middle of fucking.

He and I have done some irresponsible stuff since our arrangement started, but this tops it all. I blame it on how busy we’ve been with travel and meets, and on the fact that the extent of our January encounters amounts to passing each other in one of the hallways at Avery, the always crowded one right outside of the PT room.

I don’t say hi.

He doesn’t smile.

His fingers brush against the back of my hand, though, and for the next twenty minutes I feel like the air is thinner than on a Tibetan plateau.

In those weeks, our closest interaction is a plastic bag I discover outside my locker, full of the green sweets I mentioned to him before the holidays.

For real fika, the note reads. I devour them, thinking of him during every bite.

At the end of the month, both the University of Arizona and Arizona State teams come to Avery for a four-day invite. The after-party is at Kyle’s house—which is, shockingly, also Lukas’s.

“I’d heard rumors,” Victoria says, walking up the driveway. “But I dared not believe them. Thought my sickbed was playing tricks on me. But no—Scarlett Vandermeer actually goes out. Color me shocked and pleased.”

“Vandy likes parties,” Pen tells her. “She just . . .”

“Likes her bed more,” I finish.

“I’m just making an appearance,” Pen whispers in my ear a minute later. “And then I’m skedaddling to Hot Teacher’s place.”

They’ve been inseparable for all of January. I even met him, with Pen introducing me as “one of my closest friends, Theo,” which had me so happy. We had lunch together, and they couldn’t keep their eyes, and hands, off each other. Meanwhile, I couldn’t stop thinking about Lukas.