Page 91 of The Summers of Us

“I’m glad you have a best friend.”

“Me too.” She yawned, revealing gaps in her mouth from recently lost teeth. “I hope we’ll be best friends forever.”

“You will,” I said like I was the universe making a pinky promise that would never pull apart. “You’ll make so many memories together.”

“Like you and me?”

“Just like us.”

Her voice was sweet like strawberries. “I like when we make memories together.”

My heart swelled. I was warm even on top of the blankets in a tank top and shorts. “Me too.”

“Are you going to make memories with your friends tonight?”

“How did you know?” I faked my surprise and tickled her clavicle.

Her face curled up between breathless giggles. “Because you look pretty. And you always have fun past my bedtime.”

“I’m going to play mini golf with Everett, then we’re going to watch a movie, but I promise I won’t have too much fun without you.”

“Pinky promise?” She cracked a sly, soft smile that hid her lost teeth.

“Pinky promise.” We linked pinkies for real this time. “Let’s play One Sentence Story.” It was the way stories were always told between us: shared between turns and made perfect together. “There once was a mermaid named…”

She sifted for the perfect name. “Coral!”

I continued, “Coral was the nicest, most beautiful mermaid who…”

“…met a nice merman named Aquamarine…” She giggled. “Pretend that’s Everett.”

I hadn’t expected her to make me the mermaid, or introduce a fictional Everett, but instead of rolling my eyes and pretending it wasn’t true, I nodded. I wasn’t that girl anymore. I was a girl who flattened a cute outfit on my bed, painted my nails moon jelly blue, brushed mascara on my eyelashes, applied the blush from the Boardwalk on my cheeks.

Thanks to Hadley, I was Coral the mermaid now, lying under glowing ceiling stars before my own starry summer night, so I said, “Together they swam through the stars, in and out of constellations.”

“Then one day, Aquamarine gave Coral some stars from the sky.”

“One for each day he loved her,” I whispered, hoping Hadley didn’t hear. I didn’t know what prompted it, how our story ended up here, or how many stars Aquamarine gave Coral, but I felt a blend of guilt and softness and anticipation in my chest.

Normal people called that love.

I sifted through my mind for the rest of the story, wondering if Coral was a normal mermaid, but Hadley’s breath had become the slow kind that told me she was asleep. I lay there for a few more minutes, breathing in the strawberry smell, counting the stars in the ceiling to determine how many I should give Everett tonight.

I slunk out of bed, careful to keep the mattress still. I unclasped her necklace and rested it on her bedside table. I tucked the comforter over her chest, wrapped her arms around her stuffed dolphin, and whispered a proper goodnight to her sleeping ears. I kissed sweet dreams into her forehead and hoped to hear all about them soon.

Then I stepped out to get ready for my date with Everett.

That was what I called those now.

Age 17, August 11

Everett’s going to be my boyfriend,I thought as Haven zipped me along Ocean Drive on a golf cart. Well, there was always the chance Everett wouldn’t ask, or he’d say no ifIasked, but I felt more certain than ever that soon we’d be tethered by more than salt water taffy. Certain of his feelings for me, and also of mine for him.

Last night on our mini golf date, we wagered over scores—loser had to buy the winner ice cream. A secret second wager floated in my head—I’d kiss him at the end of the date if I sunk a hole-in-one. I tried my hardest, but only got as close as a lucky, erratic ricochet around giraffe legs. Everett won. He took the scorecard as proof; I took the cute miniature pencil as a keepsake.

At Sunset Scoop, he shared his banana split with me.

“That’s why it’s called a banana split,” he’d said when he grabbed two spoons.

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