Page 119 of Until Next Summer

“But tonight isn’t a funeral,” Jessie says. “It’s a party.Nathaniel and Lola would want us to make the most of every single second we have left here. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you for coming, for your support and love. We might not be able to say ‘See you next summer,’ but I hope you’ll all remember this: you can take the people out of the camp, but you can’t take the camp out of the people!”

The room erupts in applause, and there isn’t a dry eye in the house. The DJ has an upbeat song ready, and soon campers are dancing and singing along to P!nk’s “Raise Your Glass.”

Amidst the swarm of moving bodies, I lose sight of Jessie. When I finally find her in the crowd, Jack Valentine is walking straight toward her.

“Crap,” I say and point toward them.

I don’t have to say anything else; Cooper swoops into action. We both know the last thing Jessie needs right now is small talk with Jack Valentine.

“Need you in the kitchen, boss,” Cooper says.

He takes Jessie’s hand and leads her off. In the kitchen, Cooper’s staff is cleaning up from the buffet and getting the dessert trays ready, so we head to a prep area in the back corner.

“Bless you,” Jessie says, taking a seat on a stool. “I don’t think I could have faked being nice to that man for one more second.”

“You shouldn’t have to!” I say, taking a cream cheese brownie from the tray Cooper sets in front of us. “Want to hide out in here for the rest of the night?”

Jessie laughs. “Wish I could. But I should probably get back out there.”

“Give yourself a minute,” Cooper says. “Have some dessert, come back in a song or two.”

He gives me a kiss on the head before heading off to rejoin the party.

“These are really good,” I tell Jessie, holding up a second brownie.

“Mm-hmm,” she says, biting into one. “So, want to tell me what’s going on with you two?”

“Not really,” I say, because I still don’t know. It should be simple—Cooper wants a future with me, and I want one with him—but I can’t stop thinking that this whole summer has been an escape from reality, that my real life is going to come crashing down on me once I go home.

But I’m not the only one who had a summer fling.

“Want to tell me what’s going on with you and Luke?”

“Not really,” she parrots, and we both laugh.

“You were great up there, by the way,” I tell her. “I don’t think I could have done it.”

For a moment, I think she’s going to brush that off and sayIt’s fine, like she always does, but instead her smile falters and tears fill her eyes. “It was really, really hard.”

I shake my head, so impressed with how my brave, beautiful friend has managed to smile through what I imagine is one of the hardest nights of her life. I’m glad I can provide respite, a time for her to stop pretending, just like she’s done for me.

I don’t know how I made it through a decade without her.

“What you said about friendship…” I pause, scrambling to find the words. We’ve cleared the air about our past, but we haven’t talked about what our friendship looks like without the trappings of camp. “With the summer ending—”

“Hilly Bean,” Jessie says, giving me a look filled with love and history and deep knowing. “Camp may be over, but our friendship won’t be. Not again. Not ever.”

“Promise?” I say, my voice wavering.

“Promise.”

“Good, because I had a crazy idea. I don’t know if you have plans for after camp, but I was wondering if you’d want to stay with me for a while in Chicago? I have a guest room, and I’d love to spend time with you. I know you aren’t much of a city girl, but we have beautiful parks, and the lake, and—”

“I’d love to,” Jessie says, interrupting my blabbering. “Thank you so much.”

We hug, holding each other and crying amidst the chaos of the kitchen. Then the door swings open, and Jessie perks up at the familiar notes of that damn Chumbawamba song. I will never understand how any best friend of mine can like that earworm.

“Come on,” she says, grabbing my hand.

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