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"Listen—Lydia—" he finally said, but she yanked the door open, jumped out, and slammed the door shut. With every step she ran, her schoolbag hit her hard on the back, but she continued running until she reached the road leading to her home. Every time she heard a car approaching, she looked around, thinking it might be Jack, but , his Volkswagen never showed up again. She suspected he might still be at Point, still with a look of panic on his face.
She walked along the lake to the small street in front of her house, her breathing gradually becoming calmer. However, everything that was once familiar became unfamiliar—the colors were too bright, like an over-adjusted TV image. The green lawn was a bit bluish, the white gables of Mrs. Allen's house were too dazzling, and the skin on her own arms was too yellow. Everything was a little distorted, and Lydia squinted her eyes, trying to press them into familiar shapes. When she arrived at her door, it took her a moment to realize that the woman cleaning the porch was her mother.
Seeing her daughter, Marilyn opened her arms and prepared to kiss her. Only then did Lydia realize that she was still holding the box of condoms in her hand. She hurriedly stuffed it into her schoolbag and hid it under the lining.
"You're quite hot." Marilyn said and picked up the broom again. "I'll finish sweeping it right away, and then we'll start reviewing and preparing for the exam." The green buds that fell on the tree were crushed by the hard broom.
Lydia was speechless for a moment. After a while, she made a hoarse voice. However, neither she nor her mother noticed the abnormality in her voice. "I told you," she said angrily, "I don't need your help."
Until tomorrow, Marilyn would forget this moment: Lydia's scream, her hoarse voice. It would be lost forever in her memory of Lydia, for the memory of a lost loved one would automatically become smooth and simple, and it would shed all its complicated and tangled elements like ugly scales. Marilyn now attributed her daughter's behavior to evening fatigue.
"Not much review time," Marilyn said as Lydia pulled open the front door. "You know, it's May already."
Later, when they thought back to that last night, they found that they remembered nothing—sadness took the place of all the memories. That night, Nath's face was flushed with excitement and he kept chattering at the dinner table. However, they - including him - forgot about his unusual talkativeness, let alone what he said. They did not remember that the afterglow of the setting sun spread all over the tablecloth like melted butter. Marilyn said, "The lilacs are blooming." They didn't remember James' smile when he heard Nath mention Charlie's, because he remembered that he and Marilyn had often gone there for lunch years ago. I don't remember Hannah asking, "Are the stars in Boston the same as here?" Nath replied, "Yes, of course." All memories would be gone the next morning. For years to come, they would analyze that night, wondering what details they had overlooked that they should have paid attention to, what small forgotten actions might have changed everything. They peeled away the skin and bones, analyzing them piece by piece, trying to figure out how things got to be this way, but they could never determine the cause.
As for Lydia, she kept asking herself the same question all evening. She didn't notice her father's nostalgia for the past or her brother's radiant face. From the beginning of the dinner to the end, to the time she said goodnight to her family, that question kept tumbling in her mind: How could it go so wrong? The record player sang softly under the light, and she fell into a reverse memory: Jack's expression when she rushed out of the car in the afternoon, defiant, vulnerable, and panicked. She meets Jack. She failed her physics exam. She took a biology class. She participates in science fairs. Her mother bought her books and gave her a real stethoscope. Where did things start going wrong
The alarm clock jumped from 1:59 to 2:00, making a low "click" sound. Starting from this sound, her thoughts gradually became clearer. The record player had long since stopped, and the darkness outside made the silence deeper, as dull as a library. She finally knew where all the mistakes had started and where she had to go.
The wooden surface of the dock was smooth and matched her memory. Lydia sat down at the top of the pier, her feet dangling over the water as she had done so long ago, the boat lapping softly beside her. She never dared to get too close to the water. Tonight, in the darkness, she felt fearless—something she discovered with surprise and calm.
Jack is right. She lives in constant fear, not knowing what else to do - she is afraid that one day her mother will disappear again, her father will collapse, and the family will fall apart again. Ever since my mother ran away from home that summer, their family had been in a precarious state. The whole family seemed to be on a cliff, teetering on the edge of collapse. Before, she didn't realize how fragile happiness was. She didn't know that as long as you weren't careful, you could easily overthrow happiness and shatter it into pieces. After that, all her mother's wishes became her promises. As long as she can stay. She had been so scared.
So, whenever my mother said, "Do you want to," she would say, "Yes." She knew what her parents had always longed for—without them having to say it, and she wanted them to be happy. She kept her promise. Her mother stayed. Read this book. Yes. You want this. You like this. Yes. Once, at the university museum, when Ness was complaining about not being able to visit the astronomy exhibit, she saw a piece of natural amber with a fly trapped in it. "That was something from four million years ago." Marilyn said softly, hugging her daughter from behind. Lydia just stared at Amber until Nath finally pulled them apart. Now she thought of the fly that had landed gracefully in a puddle of resin. Perhaps it had mistaken it for honey, or perhaps it had never seen resin before. By the time it realized its mistake, it was too late. It struggled and fluttered, then sank, and finally drowned.
She had been terrified since that summer—of losing her mother and her father. Soon her greatest fear emerges: losing Nath. He was the only one who understood the strange and fragile balance of their family. He knew exactly what had happened. He always held her up and prevented her from sinking.
That day long ago, sitting in this position on this dock, she had begun to feel how difficult it was to carry on her parents' dream, how suffocating it was to be loved so much. The moment she noticed Nath's hand on her shoulder, she almost gratefully dropped into the water and let herself sink. When her head was completely submerged, the water slapped her face like a palm. She wanted to scream, but the cold feeling rushed into her throat and choked her. She stretched her toes looking for land, but there was none. There was nothing in her hands, only dampness and coldness.
Then comes the warmth. Nath's fingers, Nath's hand, Nath's arm, Nath's grip on her back. Her head emerged from the lake, and the water in her hair flowed into her eyes, causing stinging pain. Kick it, Nath told her. He lifted her up. The strength and calmness of his hands surprised her, and she felt warmth return to her whole body. His fingers gripped her, and at that moment, she was no longer afraid.
Kick water. I got you. Kick.
From then on, it was always like this. Whenever she stretched out her hand and said, "Don't let me sink," he would hold her hand and prevent her from sinking. That was the moment, Lydia thought, when everything went wrong from there.
It's not too late. Lydia makes a new promise on the dock, this time, to herself. She will start over. She would tell her mother that enough was enough. Even if she fails physics, even if she never becomes a doctor, it doesn't matter. She would also tell her mother that it was not too late. It's never too late. She would return the necklace and the book to her father, she would never put a dial-tone receiver in her ear again, she would never pretend to be someone else again. From now on, she has to do what she wants. With her feet dangling in the air, Lydia—who had always been fascinated by the dreams of others—suddenly discovered the glorious possibilities of the universe, and she determined to change everything. She wanted to say sorry to Jack and tell him that she would never tell his secret. If he can be so brave and clearly understand who he is and what he wants, then maybe she can too. She would tell him that she understood him.
She wanted to tell Nath that it didn't matter if he left, that she would be fine, and that he no longer had to be responsible for her or worry about her. Then she let him go.
When making the last promise, Lydia understood what she was going to do, how to start over, and start from scratch, so that she would never have to be afraid of being alone again. In order to seal and fulfill her promise, she must do this. She lowered gently into the boat and released the rope. When she pushed the dock, she thought she would panic, but the panic did not come. As she paddled awkwardly away into the distance—until the lakeside lampposts were mere dots that could no longer stain the darkness around her—she felt strangely calm and confident. The moon overhead was as perfect and round as a coin, with clear outlines. The lake was calm and she could barely feel the slight rocking of the boat. Looking up at the night sky, she felt as if she was floating in space, unfettered and everything was possible.
In the distance, the lights on the pier are like twinkling stars. If you squint your eyes carefully, you can still make out the dim outline of the pier itself and the dim wooden boards in the dark night.
If she could get closer, she thought, she could see completely. Generations of bare feet have worn the planks so smooth that the stakes supporting them are just emerging from the water. Carefully she stood up, spread her arms, and the boat began to rock. The pier is not far. She could do it, she was sure of it. With just a kick of the water, she could swim all the way to the dock, climb those planks, and get out of the water. Tomorrow morning, she was going to ask Ness about Harvard, what it was like there, and she was going to ask him to talk about the people he met and the classes he took. She was going to tell him that he was going to have a great time at Harvard.
She looked down at the lake. There seemed to be nothing in the darkness, only the dark color, and a huge nothingness spread out under her feet. It's okay, she told herself, and then she stepped out of the boat and into the water.