Page 23 of The Summers of Us

“You researched that?” he asks.

“Yeah, something about extending your good luck on a rare sight.” I let him believe it for a half second, then nudge his elbow with mine. “No, I made that one up.”

“We should still wish. You can’t be too careful.”

Nodding, I close my eyes and wait for a wish to emerge from the dark waters of my mind. I need to stop trying to fix the past, but I can’t help the first thing that comes to mind.

I wish Hadley didn’t get in the water that day.

Staring at the water from the cosmos, of course it’s my first thought. Ghosts must be real, after all, and the ones at the lighthouse have been speaking to me all day. That’s what echoed up the staircase. That’s why the dust motes were so thick in the sunlight.

Everything is a ghost. Every memory is haunted.

The wall in my hallway, the ice cream shops, the books about the stars: all footprints washed away with the tide.

“What’d you wish for?” Everett asks.

It doesn’t matter whether I tell him—this wish cannot come true—but Everett doesn’t deserve the sorrow of the truth. Not on his day. Not on top of the lighthouse. Not in the presence of dolphins.

“Happiness,” I say with a smile.

Age 13, June 17

Holden and Haven didn’t see danger like I did.

Of course Saray insisted on coming to Sapphire Beach Boardwalk with us. My mom would have done the same, and she would have been upset with me if she found out we’d walked around by ourselves in such a public place. Walking around alone only felt safe on the island; Piper Island had a bubble around it that would never burst.

I didn’t mind that we had to walk so close to Saray. How could I be mad? She bought me cotton candy.

Haven was not as content. Her sandals snapped louder than usual on the wooden slats beneath us. I offered her a pinch of cotton candy. She smiled and took some.

Boardwalks were pretty, but they also reminded me of gas stations—something about the bright lights visible in broad daylight and the vague smell of car exhaust. Not to mention the sweaty people we slunk through and the smell of cigarettes and beer everywhere.

We made our way to Tsunami, and then it was just me dissolving cotton candy on my tongue next to all the parents waiting for their adventurous children to get off the ride. Making small talk with Saray beat dying on a rollercoaster thanks to flimsy harnesses, even if that meant I had to watch my best friends die instead.

Saray started in, asking me questions about school and how I was going to fill my summer and the off-season back home. I told her that I loved school but always counted down to the summer on my school planner. I told her I planned to spend the summer doing everything with the twins and Mason and Jorge just like last summer, with riding Tsunami as the only exception.

She laughed and said something in Spanish, then agreed.

I told her all about my mom. I didn’t tell her about my dad.

I thought she might have a clue. She was a mom, after all.Haven’smom, no less.

When the twins’ train car made it down the big drop, they put their hands to the sky, mouths open wide. I couldn’t hear them over the wooden creaks, but I knew they were screaming for their lives. Even though it looked like a fun time, I couldn’t shake the words Mom said when we drove past the bright, beckoning lights of the North Carolina State Fair years ago.Promise me you’ll never get on one of those death traps.

Promises are sacred, especially when sealed with pinkies.

The twins ran back to us.

“Quinn, you have to ride it with us next time!” Holden sounded like he was still on the rollercoaster.

Haven nodded, her hair crazy from the big drop.

“I like watching,” I said to my flip-flops.

“It was nice of Quinn to keep me company,” Saray said. She put a hand on my shoulder, squeezing tightly like we were buddies bonded from waiting together.

It was a weird feeling—a motherly touch not meant to scold me or keep me nine steps from danger.

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