Page 54 of The Summers of Us

Chance’s hair was too blonde. His eyes were too green. His jawline was too sharp. His features were fine on their own, but together, they made a menacing praying mantis.

Haven was wearing a thick blue sweater—not the coconut bra or grass skirt we bought. My outfit was even more ridiculous without another person. We were supposed to look ridiculoustogether.

“Haven!” I shouted across the living room.

She searched the room, then smiled when she saw me. “Quinn!”

She made her way over. Chance loomed behind her like she was an excited puppy straying too far from her owner.

“You look amazing!” Haven said. “You win best dressed for sure.”

“Did you forget about yours?” I asked, raising my voice over the booming music.

“No, but Chance said this sweater is cute on me.” She was tipsy, but those words had nothing to do with the alcohol.

“It is.” I smiled and bit my tongue from saying what it wanted to say.

Chance stared at me with snakes for eyes. If I told Haven just how not-Haven she was being, he’d turn me into stone too. I understood why Haven was so mind-controlled, so instead of being angry, I grabbed her arm as some lifeline and semblance of normalcy. “Are you coming over later?”

“Maybe. I’ll see where the night takes us.”

I knew “us” referred to her and Chance, and “maybe” meant only if Chance let her. “Okay. Have fun!”

“I will! Love you!” She smiled before Chance whisked her back into his world.

I stepped out into the backyard where I could finally breathe again. That said a lot since the summer air hung tangibly around everything this time of year. I leaned against the siding. How did Haven go from the carefree girl I’d known all these years to that? I knew it wasn’t her fault—people didn’t seek out love poisons—but how could we lull her back? Had I been stricken by a different kind of poison? Did I even have the ability to fix someone else?

Did anything even need fixing?

“Is this what I think it is? Dr. Kessler all dressed up at a party? With a beer in her hand? I must be dreaming.” Everett wore a Hawaiian-patterned button-up. He must have gotten his green lei from Kelsie. Did her hands linger on his chest when she put it around him? Did they look into each other’s eyes? Did Everett like gold eyeshadow?

I saluted him with the cup. “Dr. Bishop. I thought you were observant enough to know that this is fruit punch.”

He saluted back. “Same. I remember it tasting a lot better when I was a kid.”

I laughed, raising my voice above the pulsing music. “I think it’s just too warm.”

“Or our taste buds aged with us.”

“Like we’resoold now?”

He shrugged and took a sip. “Older than the last time I had it.”

“True.” The thought of getting older reminded me of Haven. I hoped so badly that this wasn’t what getting older looked like for her.

“We should go somewhere quieter.” Everett’s words whipped up the hair on my neck.

I nodded and followed him around the pool to a dark corner of the backyard. Two empty swings swayed in the breeze. The chains quivered when we sat down. In our own pocket of night, we sipped our punch and watched the party unfold. A couple held each other in the pool, a pretzel-shaped silhouette against the glowing blue. An intense game of cornhole heated up under the back porch light. A boy wearing at least twenty leis cannonballed into the pool, but the entranced couple were unfazed. The rainbow of leis floated to the top and rode the jets across the surface.

I drew a circle into the sand with my toes, then wiped it level again, finally getting the nerve to say what had been on my mind this summer. “Have you noticed something up with Haven and Chance this summer?”

Everett finished his sip, swallowed, and wiped his lips. “She’s different. Holden’s pretty pissed off about it. Mason’s tried talking to Haven. Jorge wants to kill the guy.”

Knowing they all agreed convinced me I wasn’t being overlyQuinnabout the whole thing. It was sweet to think of the four of them using the air time of guy’s nights talking about Haven, wanting to help her.

“He’s controlling her,” I said, entranced by the moon in the trees.

“Maybe you can talk some sense into her.”

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