Tiffany and Tiger's Eye

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

It was nearly afternoon when we pulled into the long gravel driveway leading up to the cottage. There was something magical about that spot, maybe just because it was an escape from the house. The cottage was my favourite place in the world.

And Canada Day was the best time to get there. Down by the public beach, there were games for the little kids, a horseshoe competition for the old people, and a barbeque for everyone. At night, there would be fireworks over the lake. That was for everyone, too. I’d never met a soul who didn’t like fireworks.

Mikey and me threw our luggage into the cottage, then took off down the road in our flip-flops. I’d worn my bathing suit instead of underwear because I knew we’d both want to swim as soon as we got within spitting distance of the lake.

Aunt Libby was never too concerned about where we were. The whole area had a community feel. We all looked out for each other, and that went double for Mikey and me. Even though I was the older one, I knew he wanted to keep me safe too. That’s what siblings were for.

I wasn’t friends with any of the kids at the lake. Most of them were Mikey’s age anyway, or else they were way older than me. Also, my unpopularity was like a perfume that warned other people to stay away. I was a loser. Don’t want to be seen with Rebecca—her uncoolness might rub off.

When we got to the beach, the Canada Day festivities were in full swing. Mikey joined up with the same kids he played alongside every summer. I sat in the sand with my needlework and watched the old folks play horseshoes. The sun warmed my legs and the back of my neck. For a while, I closed my eyes, and that was the happiest I’d felt all year.

I didn’t open my eyes until the hum of a motorboat jolted me from sun-drenched paradise. The glare off the water burned my retinas. I’d forgotten my sunglasses in the car. Still, I couldn’t look away. Somehow, I knew there was something worth seeing on the water.

When I caught sight of her, I knew for sure.

Her hair glistened like gold in the summer sun. She didn’t look any older than me, but she was out with the older kids, zipping around the lake on water skis. Her bathing suit was sort of like a two-piece, except the top and bottom were joined together at her sides. The design was bright blue with black tiger stripes, and it looked amazing against her porcelain skin.

I knew I was staring, but the girl in the bright blue bikini was too far away to see me, and nobody on the beach seemed to realize I existed. Which I didn’t mind. It was better to be invisible than to get picked on.

“Becca.” Mikey kicked sand at my legs. “Rebecca!”

“Jeeze, Mikey. What the heck?” I brushed the beach off my shorts, then stood up and shook like a wet dog. “Why’d you do that?”

“I called your name, like, a hundred times!”

All his friends were watching. They made me self-conscious, and even a little jealous.

“Can we go swimming now?”

I glanced at the boat in the distance, like it would give me an answer. The swimming area was nowhere near the government pier where the teens would dock to trade off skis, but I still didn’t want the girl in the blue bikini to see me in the water. I wasn’t sure why.

“Becca!” Mikey kicked more sand at my legs, and his grimy pals followed suit.

“Stop it, you little jerks!”

The old ladies looked up from their crochet and glared at me. I didn’t fit in, not even with them.

“These guys’ parents went somewhere, so you have to watch all of us.”

“Fine, just stop kicking sand at me.” I tore out of my shorts and left them on the beach with my cross-stitching. No one would ever see my one-piece bathing suit. I never took off my T-shirt to swim. Never.

The greenish water was always cold until you plunged your head right under. I tried to take it slow, but Mikey and his annoying little friends had other plans. I don’t know whose idea it was to climb me like a tree, but with three kids clinging to my top, I toppled over in the water, taking them all down with me.

“Get off me, you little brats! We’re all gonna drown.”

“Okay,” Mikey said.

That’s when the mud-throwing started.

Some scrawny kid with pigtails picked up a wad of wet sand and launched it at my back. It felt like baseball between my shoulder blades.

I turned around, but that was a terrible idea. The next mud ball slammed me in the face, knocking my head back so hard a bolt of pain shot down my spine. I stumbled back, tripping over one of the kids I was supposed to be minding. With my eyes full of sand, I didn’t know which of Mikey’s friends I’d landed on, but the brat yelled, “Get your big butt offa me, mud monster!”

I splashed lake water in my face, aiming for my eyes, trying to get those sharp little shards out. That’s when I heard Mikey say, “Call her Martina. Mud Monster Martina.”

“Mikey!” My heart dropped into my stomach. Mikey was supposed to be my comrade at the cottage. Instead, he was encouraging his pals to launch insults he shouldn’t even know. “Where did you hear that before?”

“From Kristin in my class,” he said. “Her sister goes to your school. She says everyone makes fun of you. They call you Martina.”

My brain buzzed. It felt prickly, like my whole head was full of bees. Just then, I looked up and saw the older teens’ motorboat crawling across the stretch of lake just outside the beach enclosure.

They were all looking at me. All of them. The tan boys in fluorescent shorts pointed at me and laughed. There I was, sixteen years old and covered in mud, with kids still pummelling my front and back with handfuls of wet sand. I didn’t have the strength to look at the girl in the tiger bikini. I could only imagine she was laughing too, but I didn’t want to know. This weird feeling came over me that if our eyes met in that moment, she’d hear the name my brother had called me, and she’d know far too much.

Mikey probably didn’t even know what “Martina” meant, but he must have seen in my face how much he’d hurt me. As I ran from the lake I heard him call out, “Sorry.”

My feet found my flip-flops, but I forgot about my needlework and my shorts. I ran all the way up the gravel hill. Sharp pieces of rock lodged themselves in my feet, but I didn’t stop. I just kept running, like I could outrace my humiliation.

When I got back to the cottage, my aunt and uncle were gone, and I was glad about that. I ran straight to my room, which I hadn’t even peeked in since we’d arrived. It looked the same as it always did, and there was something about the funny-coloured walls and the dark moons-and-stars duvet cover that made the space feel eerily sacred. I held my breath as I crossed the threshold, but once inside I fell face-first onto my bed.

I cried until all the sand should have rushed out of my eyes, but there was always more. Always more tears, always more pain. Stupid Mikey! Why wouldn’t he tell his friends to cut it out? Why would he call me Martina? Didn’t he know this place was my escape?

And then, though I was entirely alone in the cottage, a small voice said, “I’ve missed you...”