Page 109 of Until Next Summer

“I wonder if something else is going on,” Jessie says. “This doesn’t seem like Cooper.”

“Yeah,” I say, although I wonder if the Cooper we’ve gotten to know is the real Cooper. Or if the real Cooper is the one that woman from Boston talked about. Maybe he just got tired of pretending.

“I’m really proud of you, by the way,” Jessie says.

My eyebrow arches.

“It couldn’t have been easy saying no to a proposal,” she says. “I remember you wanted to be engaged by the time you turned thirty.”

I forgot Jessie knew about my plan and my timeline—I was pretty open about it when we were teenagers. I think I even told Cooper about it once. Maybe that’s what happened—seeing Aaron propose reminded him of how much I wanted to get married. Maybe he pushed me away out of fear that I’d try and rope him into a commitment.

“At the start of the summer, I probably would have said yes to Aaron,” I tell Jessie. “But spending the last two months here has made me realize I want something different from my life.”

“Like what?”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if I knew,” I say. A small part of me hoped that after the deal with the Valentines went through, I’d be able to stay involved with the camp and Jessie in some business-advisor capacity. But that dream went bust on the sailboat.

“You’ll figure it out,” Jessie says. “Just follow your heart—it won’t steer you wrong.”

Maybe she’s right. Following my head certainly hasn’t worked for me.

“Speaking of your heart,” Jessie says, “I wouldn’t give up on Cooper just yet. I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“What way?” I ask, desperate for even the tiniest bit of validation. Because rules be damned, what we had wasn’t just physical. If it was, he wouldn’t have been so thoughtful, listening to me and paying attention to the stories I told him. If he didn’t care about me, why would he ask me about my mom? Go out of his way to save me leftovers or take me on a romantic date? Spend so much time learning my body, focusing on what makesmefeel good. Make me come and laugh and cry and feel things. For him.

“The same way you look at him,” Jessie says, pulling me back to this moment. “The two of you, I don’t know, it’s like you always know where the other one is in the room, like there’s an invisible string connecting you. And he makes you smile. I swear, Hilly, you smile more around him than anyone else.”

Her words make me grin, until I remember I’m not that happy anymore.

“You know,” Jessie continues, “when you first got here, you seemed so…tense. Like you were here, but nothere. You were on the edge of everything. Observing, one step removed. But with Coop, you’re fully present. You are unapologetically yourself. And I like yourself.”

“I like this version of me, too,” I say.

Jessie reaches over and brushes a tear from my cheek. I didn’t realize I was crying, but the gesture makes the tears fall faster. I’m so incredibly grateful to have her friendship back.

“Cooper’s not the only reason I’ve been more myself,” I tell her. “You’re a big part of it, too. I haven’t been this close—or close at all—to anyone since you.”

Her blue eyes fill with concern. “Really? Why not?”

I shrug. “It’s not easy for me to open up to new people. And losing your friendship hurt so much that I think part of me was scared to let myself feel like that about anyone else. Not that I’m blaming you—”

“I wish I’d handled things differently, too.” She puts her arm around my shoulder and squeezes me against her. “And I get what you’re saying. When I lost you, it felt like I lost part of myself. Like my heart was that necklace you gave me—all jagged and half-broken.”

“People always talk about soulmates as being romantic,” I say, leaning my head against her shoulder. “But is it weird that you’re the closest thing I’ve ever experienced to that?”

“Not weird at all,” she says, and rests her head on mine.

We used to sit like this all the time as kids, sometimes here in this exact spot. Just like back then, I gaze out over the lake, feeling the warmth of the sun on my bare arms, the tickle of one of Jessie’s braids dangling against the back of my neck.

And for the first time since the terrible dinner with Jack Valentine, I feel like maybe things will be okay. The camp is ending, Cooper isn’t talking to me, and I have no idea what I want to do with my life. But like Dot said, this summer has been a success—it brought me and Jessie together again.

“Will you be my date to the dance?” I ask after a beat.

“Duh,” Jessie says.

I grin and exhale a sigh of relief. The Valentine Dance—named after the camp owners, not the Hallmark holiday—was never a big romantic event. It’s a party, a fun celebration to mark the end of another incredible season.

And in spite of everything that tried to bring us down, this summer has been incredible.

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