Page 84 of The Summers of Us

I thought he might object, but he opened his mouth, rewriting the end of the story of us. I wedged it between his lips, watched it melt on his tongue. It was gone in a moment, a smile left in its place.

“You love summer,” I whispered and brushed the stray sugar from his cheek with my knuckle. I grabbed another wisp and held it out for him.

“Your tongue is pink.” He grabbed my wrist and moved my hand to my own mouth, not breaking eye contact.

“Thank you,” I said, stealing the last bit of summer with my tongue.

We walked toward the end of the Boardwalk, caught up in the fantastical version of life that it cast upon us. This soft rainbow fluorescent haze spotlighted the world around us. Everything was beautiful: the rigged clank of metal rings on milk jugs, the adolescent jingle of the carousel, the exhaust smell from the go-karts. An indescribable level of happiness escaped me in breathless giggles and skips in my otherwise steady steps.

Look how carefree I am!

Look how relaxed I am!

Look how happy I am!

This time, I knew he saw me. He was looking when I looked back.

I promised myself in the mirrorearlierthat I would do it.I wish for a rollercoaster, I told myself as I brushed sense into my braided curls. I hadn’t planned on grabbing his hand on the carousel, but I knew I would do this. Only one bar protected us from falling into the ocean, but my nerves settled when I inched closer to Everett.

We were one of the first carts to board, so the Ferris wheel moved slowly as the rest of the line boarded. On the slow incline, we nearly mapped out the whole place with I Spy, but on the top, braked in dark solitude, silence was the only thing we spied.

I’d never seen the world from hundreds of feet in the air.

A mosaic of lights stippled the shape of the Boardwalk. On the ground, each light was its own individual being, visible filament threaded through them. Up here, with Everett next to me, I saw how beautifully each bulb worked together to create one solid unit.

Above all the commotion, the moon illuminated the ocean’s white-capped waves. The shy stars still showed themselves despite the moon taking center stage. I was beginning to understand the allure of the moon’s glow. Moonlight was harmless, comfortable, dark enough for the glowing lights of the Boardwalk but bright enough to see Everett’s hands folded together between his knees.

To see the shape of his face against the night sky.

In the silence, Everett’s bouncing legs did his bidding. When he thought of me, was there a chapter in his head or just an ellipsis?Washe thinking of me? Could there be enough between us for a real story? Were we the forlorn couple who escaped from each other with each other?

“This is beautiful,” Everett said, but it wasn’t the answer I wanted.

“It is,” I said.

“I think you’re beautiful, too.”

I darted my eyes at him. His words were light striking across the dull sky. My eyes were hungry stargazers. “You are, too. Very nice looking, I mean.”Shit.

“I’m good with beautiful.”

“Good.” I took this as permission to grab his hand. That ship had sailed. “What else are you thinking?”

His eyebrows knitted together, then he looked at me with a smirk. “I’m thinking that the invention of the Ferris wheel is kind of wild, if you really think about it. I mean, 1893 in Chicago—”

“No,really,” I challenged, squeezing his hand in mine. The only way to be more obvious was to just say it, but I wasn’tthatbold. “What are you really thinking?”

We stared at each other in the breeze, toying with each other’s hands.

He cleared his throat. “I’m thinking I want to kiss you.”

My face crackled into a smile. This feeling was its own wild invention.

Thank God.

August 7

The snarl in my ankle is impossible to ignore.

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