Chapter 4 Kerri Kent

CHAPTER 4 KERRI KENT

1999

Bolton Landing

Amanda was my idol. I loved everything about her. Once, as a middle schooler, I was sitting on the sofa in our living room watching her get ready to leave. She bent down to put on her Converse high-tops and she, like, lost her balance. But she did so in a way that was so charming, kind of hopping on her right foot a few times then steadying herself, arms out like wings. Her eyes flew to me, and she made the funniest face.

“How is that possible?” I asked.

“How is what possible?” She was kneeling now, tying her sneaker.

“That, what just happened, this… you making everything look so cool?”

She smiled, came over and kissed me hard on the forehead. I mean, picture that. I never stood a chance! I was her little sister, already predisposed to want her love. Then she made it so easy with the warmth of her.

We went through only one frosty period, and that was after her junior prom. I’d stayed up late and watched from my window as she and Annie arrived home. Some boy dropped them off at the bottom of the driveway. The way they walked up to the house, like they were magnets trying not to merge, it set my brain bouncing. A few minutes later when I heard Annie go into the bathroom, I darted into Amanda’s room and closed the door.

“Um, hi?” she said, not unkindly.

“Are you in love with Annie?” I blurted out.

She covered her ears with her hands and yelled, “Ahhhhhh! Why does everyone think that?”

I looked at her, like, uh, what is happening here? Maybe I should have thought the whole thing through, but Amanda usually loved my little sisterness, my curiosity, how I demanded answers about the important things like whether to chew gum while kissing. This didn’t seem all that different to me.

“No, I’m not,” she said. “I mean, yes, of course I love her, but not like you’re asking.” She paused, slowly tossed her hair to the other side. “That is what you’re asking, right?”

I nodded once.

“It’s just, no,” she said, and it seemed to pain her, the saying of it. “I’m not—it’s not like that for me.”

“Is it like that for Annie?”

“We’re not talking about this,” she said, bending over and taking off her heels. “Please, just go back to bed.”