Page 16 of The Summers of Us

Or, wecould have been, if it weren’t for me.

Everett shifts beside me. His eyebrows furrow when he looks from our hands to my face. “Are you happy right now?” he asks, so close that phantom goosebumps coast across my neck.

“Breaking into a waterpark at midnight is surprisingly fun.”

“It almost makes ruining my college admission and any semblance of a career worth it.”

I laugh. “Come on, you’re supposed to be the adventurous one.”

“I am.” He pulls two lollipops from the concession stand out of his pocket. “That’s why I grabbed these. Don’t worry, I put enough cash on the counter for all of our snacks.”

“So you’renotthe adventurous one,” I joke.

“Guilty. We couldn’t be trespassersandcrooks.”

“So, notguiltyeither.”

“Shut up.” He shakes his head with a chuckle and nudges my shoulder.

“Thank you for being cautiously adventurous. Some worker will beveryconfused tomorrow.” I can’t help another laugh from escaping as I unwrap my lollipop. “To cotton candy!” I say, then whisper, pointing at his lollipop, “And piña colada.”

“Did you just say what I think you did?” Everett laughs.

“Piña colada,” I say again like a bad word. “I give up, you finally win. Iguessit can also be the taste of summer.”

Our summers together have only ever tasted like indecision and disappointment, but right now, we sit under the moonlight, licking the sweet taste of summer off our lollipops, hypothesizing about the lives of the people tucked into the sleepy homes around us.

Our hands are unclasped. We sit only as close as friends do.

Because that’s what we are.Friends. Even though we were once almost more, when summertime tasted like French fries and butterflies and the delusion that nothing bad could ever happen.

From behind a house I’m currently deciding a backstory for, sirens begin to rip across the night. Red and blue lights whiz past all the other lives on the island.

“Run!” I hop up to clamber down the stairs, shouting to the pool. “There’s cops!”

Everett runs behind me, the creaks even louder than the sirens. Everyone else is still peeling themselves from the pool when Everett and I zoom by. We grab whatever we can and run, leaving shoes, clothes, wrappers, and other incriminating evidence behind.

“Run for your lives!” I shout.

I ignore the pain of running barefoot over fallen palms and seashell shards. I check behind my shoulder for glimpses of the flashing lights I don’t want to find. The rush makes me stick my arms out and scream like I used to on the causeway, like I’m on a rollercoaster headed straight for open water, or maybe even the moon beyond that.

We run in and out of the white UFO beams of streetlights. I giggle to myself, watching our flickering shadows grow and shrink with each beam. I lead the pack, stealing glances at my friends’ faces, both stunned and excited.

Everett watches his future flash before his eyes.

Haven tries not to spill her slushy.

Jorge battles with a pile of Haven’s clothes.

Holden and Mason hold hands.

We’re wild teens, howling at the moon in our bathing suits.

I feel it. I hear it. Screams of joy all around.

This is what this summer is all about.

We run past a few houses, across Ocean Drive, and through the pampas grass between the dunes. Our path opens up to the expanse of the beach, which isn’t as stark in the thick of it. Still, this side of the dunes is an invisibility cloak. We trudge away from the public beach access and stop to recover where the sand flattens out.

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