Page 35 of The Summers of Us

I couldn’t look up from the blue ocean lights dancing on the carpet. I was too afraid to even look at the beast responsible for the large, whale-shaped shadow we were standing in.

“Whales?That’syour fear? Why not sharks?”

I didn’t tell him about my real, deepest fears, the ones you shouldn’t bring up in an aquarium with your friend. I didn’t tell him I would have swam with the whales if it meant being able to trust people. If it meant I could stop calling someone my friend when I really wanted them to be more.

“It’s something about the shape. And the size.”

I pictured the horrid ridges carved down its bloated white belly. Barnacles stuck to its fins like mold to an abandoned beach house. I’d only ever seen them in Hadley’s picture books and that scene inFinding Nemo, but I turned my head when I knew it was coming.

“Let’s go look at the seahorses, then.” He held his hand out.

A hand is different from a pinky, but my mind wasn’t working right, so I took it. Let him lead us to shallower waters. I was holding his hand. Everett Bishop’s hand, wrapped in mine like a seahorse’s tail grips swaying sea grass. I couldn’t figure out who let go first, but I still felt his touch buzzing in my hand as he cracked jokes about the baby seahorses and snow crabs and lobsters. I didn’t catch the punchlines.

When we were done exploring, we killed the rest of our time waiting for Blair and Hadley in the gift shop. I squished a penny into a sea turtle and Everett squished his into a shark.

On the way out, it was hotter than earlier. The sidewalk melted our shoes on the way to the car. We followed slowly behind Blair and Hadley, our shoulders brushing each other’s without a spherical tank needing to do the squishing. Everett stopped me at the fountain and pulled two unsquished pennies from his pocket.

My hand acted on autopilot, opening for the penny. At this point, Blair was nowhere in sight, probably watching us through rows of hazy car windows, giddy because we were staring at each other in front of a wishing fountain.

“You can’t pass a fountain without making a wish,” he said.

He closed his eyes. He mulled over a wish for a few seconds, then threw the penny behind his shoulder. The way his eyes shifted under his eyelids made it seem like he’d done this at a million other fountains. His confident smile indicated that every single wish had come true.

Before he could catch me staring, I closed my eyes. I whispered my wish into the penny warming in my palm, sent it soaring behind my shoulder, and listened to it splash the water. I pictured it floating down to make a permanent home next to someone’s wish for money or fame.

It was the same wish I had whispered to every cheek eyelash, flickering birthday candle, dandelion puff to the wind. It was what I would wish on a shooting star if I were ever lucky enough to see one.

I wish my dad had never hurt my mom.

The wish didn’t come true, of course. That was what happened when you wished for something that couldn’t come true. Or when you assigned belief to things that didn’t make logical sense. You couldn’t rewind tape that was already spun out.

Maybe I should have wished that I’d see a shooting star one day—then I could ask the star for help and hope it had enough power to turn back time and fix the unfixable.

Life didn’t work that way. Wishes were for fun. At least, they were supposed to be.

“What’d you wish for?” Everett asked.

I opened my eyes and blinked away the sudden brightness. My face managed a smile that I tried to hide between my lips. “I can’t tell you. You know the rules.”

“Well, I wished that you’d tell me your wish.”

“That’s a dumb wish. And you told me, so it can’t come true.”

“Huh, you got me. I guess you’re right.”

“Guess so.” I raised my eyebrows with a smirk and turned on my heels toward the car.

The drive back to Everett’s housewas filled with talks of our favorite sea creatures. Everett recited his top puns for Blair. Blair rolled her eyes at them the same way I did. Hadley excitedly babbled about her favorite fish. Her cheeks rested on her new dolphin stuffed animal. The evening air streamed in from the cracked windows.

It helped me forget the jellyfish threatening my mind.

When we got there, Everett thanked us again and said his goodbyes.

While Blair backed out of the driveway, I rolled my window down.

I waved and shouted out the window, “Hey, Everett!Seayou later!” I emphasized it so he could hear the pun.

He pivoted on his front porch, waving back. “Youshorewill!” He shouted his own pun through megaphone hands.

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