Page 92 of The Summers of Us

The memory made me smile against the wind from the moving golf cart, cheeks warm despite the breeze in my bikini. I wanted to jump off and run to Everett’s house—which was only five streets from here—climb up the rungs to his balcony, and recite the poem I wrote last night with the miniature pencil as a cheesy declaration of love.

I pinky promised myself I would before summer ended, but today, Everett and Jorge were on a day trip to Raleigh to tour prospective colleges. Everett joked he’d send me a photo of a Raleigh cloud, maybe even one floating idly above my house. If he did, I’d have to make a special trip to his house. Only, there weren’t any clouds in today’s sky. I kept checking my phone, wondering if Raleigh’s sky was the same.

When Haven picked me up on the golf cart, she insisted it was her and Holden’s turn with me today. “Everett can’t just have you all the time. Not so close to your last day.”

Back at her house, we bathed in sunscreen and set off for the backyard. Holden was already out back, lying on the trampoline in his swim trunks.

We joined Holden, lying down on either side of him, getting ready to tan in the summer sun.

A hose in Holden’s hand spit a rain shower over us whenever we got too hot. It was jarring to go from scorching to freezing in seconds, but it made the drying warmth of the sun afterward that much sweeter. This was a dangerous way to tan, but that was how we’d always done it: gossip under the sun until it made us tired, shower, fall asleep to a movie, then wake up in time for dinner and whatever adventure the evening gifted us.

Today’s gossip was all about me and Everett. I told them about what Everett said at Carolina Beach, our night swimming with the potential sharks, us holding hands on the carousel. The cherry was our kiss atop the Ferris wheel.

The twins nearly split a hole in the trampoline, pivoting onto their elbows at the same time to bombard me with questions:Why didn’t you start with that? What do you mean you haven’t kissed again? Why are we only just hearing about this? You’renotdating? What the hell? Quinn, what are you waiting for?

I’d been asking myself the same thing, but I wasn’t going to wait anymore. Not after the twins almost died from shock, finally lying back down when I assured them I would talk to Everett tonight.

I didn’t need the evening to gift me anything; I would do it myself. Happen to my own life.

Holden nudged me with his elbow. “Remember when you told me to read the signs about Mason? It’s your turn now.”

“Yeah, your signs are straight-up billboards,” Haven jabbed.

“Hey, you too,Haven.” Holden pulled the trigger on the hose. “You and Jorge need to give it up.”

Haven gasped and sputtered, and not just because Holden sprayed her in the face.

I laughed, happy to be out of the spotlight.

The afternoon passed with bursts of jumping fits, water hose battles, and teasing. Saray prepared shrimp ceviche for lunch. Jumping, we bounced water from the trampoline and felt it rain down at our feet, collapsing when we got too tired, tangled up in each other again. Holden made us fluffernutters for dessert. We talked about nothing like it was everything. We’d always been good at that. Haven brought out popsicles as a second dessert.

The back door slammed as we were racing the sun to finish our popsicles. Saray rushed downthe stairs, calling my name. I peeled myself from the trampoline and met her halfway across the yard.

She held my phone out, a look of panic on her face. “Quinn, your mom’s been calling you.”

Mymom? Mom only called on Sunday nights.

I took the phone into my sticky hands.

Nine missed calls.

My heart dropped. My breath hitched. My fingers shook as I fumbled to call her back.

It rang again. Shrill and abrupt, it clipped the sweet air.

I answered it, greeted by my mom’s panicked voice before I could get a word in.

What?My palms caught me. Heaviness. Knees cut from the grass. Heart hemorrhaging out.Why?Weightless. Floating in Holden’s arms.How?Crying in Holden’s chest. Haven’s face when she picked the phone off the ground. My wail that ripped the blue sky open.

My baby cousin was dead.

Age 17, The Rest of Summer

Quinn was numb.She’d lost her sun, moon, and stars all at once.

Thoughts of Hadley consumed her, visions of the innocent, freckle-faced girl losing her footing in the Atlantic Ocean, screaming in fear as she lost sight of the shoreline, eventually caving in to her need for air.

Quinn was trapped in a blackhole, falling down a dark pit that felt like it would never end. Hadley used to tell her how a blackhole might feel, but she had never imagined it would feel so infinite.

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