The Moon and More(96)
Author: Sarah Dessen

“Benji!” I called out. “Hey! It’s Emaline, come on out.”

I searched the conference room, all the offices, the storage room, both bathrooms. Nothing. I couldn’t believe I’d been so wrong. Eventually, since time was precious, I went back outside to rethink.

“No?” my father called from the car.

I shook my head. “I’m going to keep looking around here, though. Maybe do another loop up by the boardwalk and then come back?”

He nodded, then backed away and turned down the side street towards the Pavilion. I walked up to the main road, really starting to worry now. Yes, Colby was small and not like a big city in terms of danger. But it was still in the real world, regardless of what Theo might believe. Bad things happened. Just ask Rachel Gertmann.

I was just standing there on the grass, trying to think, when I heard a beep. When I looked up, Luke was turning in, a concerned look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he called out.

“Benji’s missing,” I told him. “We can’t find him anywhere.”

He parked, then climbed out of the truck. “Isn’t Clyde’s thing going on right now?”

“He was supposed to meet his dad at four, outside the Pavilion,” I told him, scanning the road again. “But he never showed up.”

“Emaline, it’s okay. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“It’s been over two hours,” I said. “He’s only ten.”

“I know.” He stepped closer and squeezed my arm. “Just take a breath. Let’s think for a minute.”

I exhaled, skipping the intake part. “We’ve looked all over. Surfside, the Pavilion, the sound, the boardwalk. I thought for sure he would have come here, because he loves this job so much, but I just turned the whole place upside down with no sight of him.”

Luke thought for a minute. “Okay, so say we’re Benji.”

“Luke.”

“Seriously. This works.” He looked at me, nodding. “We’re ten. We’re pissed off. We go somewhere that’s familiar and comforting, safe, but hard to find. Where would that be?”

“If I knew,” I pointed out, “I would have him already.”

“Just think for a second.”

“Luke, for God’s sake. I can’t just—”

And then, just by chance, over his shoulder, I saw it. The bane of my existence, but possibly one of Benji’s favorite places, ever.

“Hold on,” I said.

I walked around Luke, breaking into a jog as I crossed the lot. The sandbar—my sandbox—was already set up for check-ins the next day. A pack of shrink-wrapped welcome packets sat just outside, two washed coolers stacked beside them, ready for cold drinks and ice. I climbed the two steps, then leaned over and peered down over the wall. Benji, sitting against the far wall with his knees pulled to his chest, looked up at me.

“I don’t want everything to change,” he said.

I bit my lip and glanced at Luke, giving him a nod. Then I opened the door, going inside, and sat down beside him. As always, the floor was dusted with a faint layer of sand. I could feel it on my feet as I slid off my shoes. “You really had us worried,” I told him, my voice low. “Everyone is out looking.”

He pulled his knees closer, not saying anything. Up close now, I could see he’d been crying, and it made him look so young I felt a lump form in my throat. “He’s making me leave tomorrow. He didn’t even tell me. I heard him saying it to my mom.”

“I know,” I said.

“I don’t even start school for another three weeks,” he went on, rubbing at his face. “What am I supposed to do all that time? Sit around and watch them get divorced?”

“Benji.”

“I don’t have anything there,” he sputtered, tears filling his eyes. “Not like this.”

Oh, man, I thought. I forced myself to take a breath. “I know how you feel.”

“No, you don’t,” he said. “You get to stay here.”

“For about two more weeks,” I replied. “Then I have to move to a totally new place, with totally new people, and start a totally new life. I’m terrified.”

“Luke will be there,” he said, sulkily.

I stretched my legs out in front of me. “Yeah, but I’m not exactly his favorite person these days.”

“But he’s here, though. Isn’t he?”

I looked down at him. “What’s your point?”

He shrugged. “Just that he said he had plans, earlier. That he was missing the party, too.”

“He just saw me looking for you and could tell I was worried,” I said. “Look, I know you think you’re all grown up and all, but you can’t run off like that. Your dad is freaking.”

“He’s just mad because I’m not doing exactly what he wants,” he grumbled, picking at the floorboard beside him. “He hates that.”

I had to smile at this, although I quickly damped it down, as best I could. “I don’t think anyone likes that much, actually.”

“Are you still mad at him?”

“Who?”

“My dad.”

It was not what I was expecting, so it took me a moment to answer. “No. Not really.”

I was surprised, hearing myself say this, that it actually felt true. Was I sad about the way things stood, and did I wish, still, the spring and even this summer had gone differently? Yes. But the anger, somehow, had lifted, leaving behind a sense that I could deal with whatever came next for us, even if it was nothing at all. Which sounded bad, I knew. Having no expectations for some people in your life can be depressing, if not devastating. But with others, it’s what is necessary. The hard part is not just figuring out which one applies, but accepting it.

“He’s really bad at saying he’s sorry or wrong, even when he knows he is,” Benji said now. I raised my eyebrows, and he explained, “That’s what my mom always tells me when I get mad at him. Sometimes it makes it better.”

“Yeah,” I said. “I can see how it would.”

We sat there for a minute, side by side, the sky still blue above us. I thought of the party still going on at the Pavilion, and wondered if Clyde had already made his big announcement, anointing Theo as he expected. By tomorrow, the show would be over, Ivy would start packing up, and Benji would be gone. All this thinking—consciously not thinking—about how things would end, and now, just like that, they were about to. It was the very nature of summer. So many long, lazy days when blissfully, nothing changes, and then everything does, all at once.