Page 42 of The Summers of Us

The summer hadn’t felt like Piper Island without Holden and Haven. Now that Hadley was with her dad, I needed them back. I’d survived eighth grade with thoughts of our days traipsing everywhere the light spilled. I missed smelling like sweat and salt water until it was time to smell like shampoo and sleep. I missed my best friends.

Everett and I hadn’t had a bad time. I’d argue we hadtoogood of a time, but I needed to be careful not to get too close to a jellyfish, lest it stung. Could jellyfish sting themselves?

How else was I supposed to protect myself?

Sitting on my best friends’ front porch steps, I watched the sky darken like some unnamed constellation flipping a switch on the sun. With darkness came mosquitoes and cooler air perfect for counting down the seconds. I confused the neighbors’ headlights for their van so I closed my eyes until another set of headlights streaked past my eyelids.

I stood up, waving at them through the windows. The car stopped and I ran down their steps. Haven spilled out of the car into my arms.

We exchanged hellos and comments about the small changes to our appearances. She looked sohigh schoolwith her new braces. I had a new freckle on my cheek. She was trying out curtain bangs. I’d finally switched to a middle part. Puberty was almost done chewing, ready to spit us out as two beautiful jellyfish.

Holden was still asleep, drool dribbling down his chin. We tickled his cheek awake. He was the same level of crabby halfway out of dreamland, but he looked the oldest of all of us. The year flattened his cheeks into a real-life jawline. He put the two minutes Haven had on him to shame. Graduating from middle school turned us all into adults.

I hugged him and hoped he lost some crabbiness while in my arms.

“You’re so tall!”

He was a whole head taller than me now, nearly two heads taller than Haven.

“You sound just like our family.” He laughed tiredly and patted the top of my head. “And you are exactly the same height.”

“Thanks. I missed you, too.”

“Good.” He winked and headed inside with his luggage.

I helped Haven with hers, then we went back out to the front porch. A foil pan sat between us on the stairs. Someone inside turned the porch light on for us, purple fog snapping into yellow.

“This is myabuela’srecipe fortres leches.” Haven peeled off the top sheet of foil and handed me a fork. “Lemme know what you think.”

Thetres lecheswas half-eaten, probably wrestled between the twins in the car. It looked like some of my childhood birthday cakes: yellow cake topped with white cream. The only difference here were the cherries lined up in rows and vacant red-stained spaces where cherries used to be. I grabbed a forkful and took a bite. It was nothing like my childhood birthday cakes. It was spongier, and moister. It melted on my tongue like caramels.

“Do you like it?”

“Anything with sugar is a friend of mine.” I scooped more on my fork to prove it, and because it was true.

“That’s what I told Holden! He swore you wouldn’t like it. Clearly, I know you better.” She ate her own forkful. “I think he just wanted to eat your share.”

“I’m glad he didn’t. How was Mexico?”

“It was good, but I can only handle my whole family for so long. Mom kept making us talk to great-great aunts and third cousins I don’t ever remember meeting. They made us talk about college and careers like we’ve got a clue about it. And they kept saying, ‘You’ve gotten so tall!’” She made her voice high-pitched. “‘I remember when I could hold you in my arms. I used to change your diapers!’”

“Well, now I feel bad for mentioning it to Holden.”

Haven laughed. “He’ll survive.” She took a huge bite. Her face brightened and she chewed a little more quickly, swallowing to say, “I went shopping for myquinceañeradress!”

“Did you find one?”

“Not a good yellow one, but it’s not until next May. I wonder how much taller we’ll be then.” Haven rolled her eyes with a giggle.

She told me about her older cousin, Isabella, who came down from California. Haven wanted to be just like her when she was older. She told me about all the late nights they spent dancing to loud music and driving down desert roads with the windows down. All the love they ate in the form of food. So. Much. Food. When she finished, she nudged me with her elbow. “Now, come on, tell me what you’ve been up to.”

I told her about my school year and the two weeks without her. How nice it was to be back, how Hadley was now with her dad for the summer, and how I’d been spending my time. This included my day at the aquarium with Everett. I told her how stupid his humor was, but not how much it made me laugh. I told her how comfortable it felt, but not the reason why. I told her he was a great guy, but not how much I liked him.

“Do youlike-like him?”

I nodded so slowly I barely felt it. My face scrunched up like my last bite had been laced with poison.

“Then why do you look like you stepped on a jellyfish?”

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