Page 25 of The Summers of Us

I raced through the horrors and gulped. “I’m scared of that, too.”

“I am too. I was just testing you. You passed.” His smile melted off one side of his face.

The way his chest puffed out when he spoke made me think he only just decided he didn’t like spindly, shaky monsters. Or he could just be like me, with a mom who painted darkness in her child’s eyes. I couldn’t tell. No matter the truth, that made at least two smart kids in this place. We could make our own fun. That was what smart kids did.

“Let’s ride the carousel,” I said because I was getting tired of being a jagged shard of my mom. I wasn’t crazy enough to ride the monsters, but carousels had to count for something.

Everett let me lead the way, half a shadow behind me. The railing was cold and stuck to my sweaty arms.

“How old do you think that gum is?” Everett pointed to a clump of gum next to his Converses.

It boasted its soot-colored glory. It looked like bird poop, or a very unlucky penny. I thought really hard about it, my fingers wrapped around my chin, a scientist mulling over the possibilities of the unexplored ocean.

“I think it’s fresh. This is a boardwalk in June. It could easily look that bad after one day.” I pointedto everyone around us: parents pushing strollers, gaggles of scary teens, seedy guys stumbling all by themselves. “Our shoes are filthy.”

“True, but look how smooth it is. People have been stepping on this baby for years. It almost makes you want to chew up a piece of gum, stick it there, and come back a few hours later.”

“I can’t promise I won’t send the twins to destroy it, Dr. Bishop.”

I had no idea why I added that last part, but before I sank into myself, Everett chuckled. “That would be cheating, Dr. Kessler.” He tightened a fake tie around his neck, his voice uppity.

My face warmed. He was willing to be just as dorky as me.

Everett Bishop really was as nice as Haven said, but mature, I had my qualms about.

When it was our turn on the carousel, I darted for the white and orange horse I’d been eyeing in line. It was a chore to pull myself up. I figured out the seatbelt situation and rested my temple against the bar. Everett buckled into the gray and teal horse next to mine.

Hidden in the shade of the carousel, the light bulbs glowed brightly in the daytime. Golden trim, red curtains, and porcelain horses waited for their millionth trip around nothing. I saw myself in an oval mirror behind Everett’s head. My reflection shone back, bulb-yellow, red-faced, and freckled.

Everett looked at me in the mirror. I looked back at his beauty mark, yellowed in the light.

He turned around to look at the real me. “Haven told me about your necklace,” he said.

“Oh, this?” I grabbed the three coquinas.

“When will you put this summer’s shell on?”

“When it feels right.”

“I think it’s really cool. Piper Island does seem like a place you’d never want to forget.”

“It is.” I smiled and let go of the memories trapped in each shell.

A bell went off and the carousel cranked up. The horses started their dance to an airy carnival jingle. I watched the Boardwalk go up and down with me. Even though we were barely moving, my stomach got confused.

I looked at Everett to steady myself. He was already looking at me. He must have been dizzy, too.

“How do you like North Carolina so far?”

“It’s different,” he shouted over the music. “So much quieter and slower. And you guys talk really weird.”

“You think I have an accent?” I gasped fake offense. I never thought I was one of those southerners with a thick accent, but if anyone could sniff out the southern twang in someone’s voice, it was a northerner. The thought of him noticing things about me the same way I’d noticed things about him made me feel warm inside.

“Like a hillbilly,” he said in an offensively drawn-out accent.

“Your impression is awful.” I laughed with my entire mouth.

I caught myself in the mirror, careless next to a boy I’d just met, conversing over the carnival tunes like we’d known each other forever. It felt like we lived on this Boardwalk and the carousel was part of our daily routine. Our new introductions felt more like old talks and old laughs. Natural, like how the moon churned the tides.

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