Page 17 of The Summers of Us

“Holy shit,” Holden says, panting. “What did I tell you guys?”

Haven gasps. “I left my new sandals!”

“I think I dropped your cover up,” Jorge confesses.

Mason groans. “I’m so fired.”

“I told you!” Holden exclaims.

Stricken with an attack of laughter, I double over with my hands on my knees. I laugh and pant into the sand, finally managing to say, “I can’t believe that just happened.”

Everett laughs beside me, then everyone joins in, including Mason, who is most definitely fired.

This is the first time I’ve been on the sand this summer, my first time hearing the waves grumble from so close to their bite. This reunion isn’t like I imagined it on the drive here—the smell of hot piss and decaying fish, the waves foaming at the mouth to lure in a new victim.

No, it’s not like that. The waves still whoosh. The sharp air still pinches my nose. The sand is still frustratingly sticky, but it welcomes me like an old friend.

Holden and Mason race to the water’s edge in the darkness, Jorge not far behind them. All three of them blindly trust that only flat sand and shallow waves lie before them. They make contact with the water, exclaim about the cold, splash each other, and exclaim some more.

A deep yearning glows within me. What would the ocean feel like right now? I consider testing it out, breaking the rules for just a slice of the past, but I stay on this stretch of sand. I flick on myphone flashlight to hunt for ghost crabs, Everett and Haven following behind me. The ghost crabs are almost invisible, their shells camouflaged against the sand, but their movements give them away. Their bulbous, black eyes widen. They scurry from the flashlight like guilty teens running from the cops.

I giggle to myself, armed with a secret: The cop car veered away from the waterpark before I even made it down the stairs.

Sometimes it’s not trouble you need to outrun.

Age 11, June 12

I kept last summer’s pinky promise.

I didn’t know what magic the Rivera-Sanchezes wielded, but somehow they knocked at the exact moment I sat down with my orange juice after running myself thirsty from unpacking. When I opened the door, Haven and Holden smiled in the shade of Blair’s front porch. I jumped out of my skin to pull them into a hug. I headed out to spend the day with them, but I knew Blair would want me back before dark.

Saray was right; it did feel like only yesterday that I had hugged them both goodbye. Fifth grade was the blur I hoped it would be. The past year made the twins’ features sharper, but it was the kind of growing only noticeable since we had done it apart. Haven’s hair was longer and she stopped braiding it at night so it could curl how it wanted to. Holden had gone through some indecisive haircuts and his hair had settled on something akin to a seagull’s nest. Their faces battled zits just like mine, but theirs were stronger fighters.

I biked next to Haven while Holden skateboarded. When I’d arrived that morning, Blair had surprised me with a sky-blue beach cruiser and brand new books in the basket. Along the sidewalk beside Main Street, we biked past a seafood restaurant named Hammerhead’s, the shopping center, Beachy Keen, and Safari Adventure Mini Golf.

The water tower grew as we approached the park tucked between palm trees and pines. On top of a mound of sand in the distance was a wooden castle playground. It boasted swinging bridges, a never-ending wooden railing, and pointy towers fit to throw Rapunzel’s hair down.

The sand was still wet from morning dew so it was easier to walk on. A swing set squeaked in the distant wind.

Holden had already bounded up the stairs for the highest tier of the castle. He was talking to two boys that looked our age.

“That’s Mason and Jorge,” Haven said, leading me up the stairs. “We grew up with Jorge but Mason just moved here during the school year. Jorge’s the cute one. His parents own that restaurant we passed, Hammerhead’s. Their hushpuppies are todiefor. You like hushpuppies?”

“Never had them before.”

“Okay, wehaveto take you there. And the candy store and Sunset Scoop and the bookstore. Oh, and mine and Holden’s secret spot in the pines by the bike trail. And we can’t forget to get another shell for your necklace.” She pointed to the necklace still around my neck.

“I can’t wait.” I smiled at the thought of this summer. It sounded even better than the last. I loved the way Haven talked like she was too eager to finish one word before the next spilled out like melted honey.

I held tight to the shell, which felt like holding tighter to the memories. Part of last summer’s pinky promise was wearing the coquina necklace to remember Piper Island. I kept that promise, especially when I needed a memory from this stretch of sky. I did have to take the necklace off in bed, but I never forgot to snap it back around my neck each morning.

“Mason’s the blonde. He lives on the sound in this huge mansion. He and Jorge are best friends, but we’re part of the group too.”

I wondered if this meant one day I could be a part of this group.

When we got close enough for introductions, I waved and listened to Haven’s summary of me: my annual visits to Piper Island from Raleigh, Blair’s little blue house on Plover Street, and baby Hadley. She excitedly told them of my obsession with cotton candy ice cream and its shade of blue.

We smiled and waved at each other slowly. I learned that Jorge had been skateboarding since he was in diapers and that Mason’s favorite ice cream flavor was pistachio, which the group loved to tease him about.

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