Page 46 of Summer Reading

“Are you still up for tomorrow?” she asked. “You don’t have to come with me.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Okay then.” She rose from her seat and leaned over me, giving me a big hug. “But if you change your mind...”

“I won’t change my mind.”

She smiled, and I could see the relief in her eyes. She waved and headed down the steps. I waved back and yelled, “It’s going to be all right.”

She lifted her arm and sent me a thumbs-up. As I watched her walk away, I hoped with all my heart I wasn’t lying.

“So, you and Ben, huh?” Tyler stepped out onto the porch, carrying two glasses of iced tea. He sat in the chair Em had vacated.

“Are you going to yell at me?” I asked.

He leaned forward and handed me the iced tea. Theglass was dripping with condensation, so I suspected he’d poured the tea and waited, probably listening, until the right moment to join me.

“Nope.” He leaned back in his seat and took a long sip.

I watched him, wondering what was going through his teenage brain. I took a sip, too. It was cold and refreshing, and I noted he’d even taken the time to slice a lemon wedge and drop it in the glass. There might be some culinary hope for him yet.

“In answer to your question, I don’t know about me and Ben,” I said. “Right now, we’re just friends who kind of dig each other, but we’re very different.”

“Because he’s a librarian and you’re dyslexic?”

“It’s not the most obvious of pairings.”

“Was Emily mad because you made a play for her man?” he asked.

“What? No!” I cried. “I didn’t make a play. I met him on the ferry before I even knew he was her boss, and besides, she’s not interested in him.”

“Then why was she here, looking so freaked out?” he asked.

“There was a thing at the library earlier,” I said. I didn’t want to talk about it. “It was dumb, but Em felt responsible, which was ridiculous. We’re good now.”

He raised his eyebrows and just stared at me, waiting. He looked so much like our dad that I foundmyself blurting out what happened in short form. The pretending to Ben that I could read and Mrs. Bascomb outing me as dyslexic and the crippling shame I felt at the revelation. I did not include the date I had planned with Ben or Em’s doctor’s appointment. I did have some boundaries.

“Wow, that totally sucks,” he said.

“It happens.” I said.

“Often?”

I shrugged. “More than I’d like but not as much as it used to.”

He nodded. He looked like he was processing this. When he met my gaze again, he asked, “Did you resent me?”

My heart sank. Was I really supposed to answer that honestly? I was fourteen when he came along, ending anyParent Trapfantasy I’d had about my parents getting back together. Of course I resented him.

“In what way do you mean?” I asked. Maybe, like when he was a toddler and fixated on a specific toy, I could divert him.

“Because school is easy for me, because I’m not dyslexic,” he said. He looked sheepish.

“No!” I said. I was so relieved he was asking about school and not his actual existence that I sagged against the back of my chair. “Never. I’m relieved you won’t have to struggle like I did.”

“I just wondered because...” He put a hand on the back of his neck, and his face became slightly pink, as if he was embarrassed.

“Because?” I prodded.

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