Page 100 of The Summer of Everything

“Coop, how could you?” Wes accuses, snatching the near-empty bag of cheese puffs from his dirty, tangerine fingers.

“I didn’t!”

“He didn’t,” Ella confirms. She crosses her legs, hands in her lap. “This wasn’t planned. But it’s been discussed.”

“By who?”

“All of us.”

“Bullshit.” Even though they’re on radio silence, Wes is certain Nico wouldn’t participate in any discussion like that. Zay too. Gossip in any form isn’t their M.O.

“Fine,” Ella huffs. “Me and Anna. Today, at Brews and Views.”

Anna gives a guilty nod. Cooper sits, arms folded, pouting. It’s not until Wes passes back the bag with apologetic eyes that Cooper grins, all forgiven.

“Why?” Wes asks, his voice small and distant.

“Newsflash, dude,” Ella says, her eyes set into a glare that could destroy entire armies. “I’m not the fat, sarcastic sidekick in your Taylor Swift-esque love story, okay? I’m not the marginally cute friend who gets to vicariously live her fantasies through your trope-filled, cliché coming of age arc. I’m your best friend. That guarantees me, at the minimum, fifty percent of your self-growth and Molly Ringwald happy ending.”

Wes laments spending an entire weekend last summer devouring the John Hughes ‘80s films because, according to some clueless commentator on Reddit, they were “the films of this entire generation.”Wrong. They were mildly funny, predictable, hella racist and problematic, with some killer dialogue and tingly romantic moments.

“There’s not much to discuss,” Wes says indifferently.

“Ha.” Cooper’s smiling mouth is crusted in cheese dust.

Kindly, Wes flips him off.

“I’m thinking about going into teaching,” Ella says, shaking the ice around in her cup. Their eyes immediately shift to her. “I think I could be good at it,” she declares, unblinking. “You saw how I was with Cassie.”

One customer out of two hundred isn’t exactly a winning record, but Wes will never forget Cassie’s expression when she left the bookstore.

“A school counselor,” he suggests.

“Yes! You could put up all of those inspirational posters on your office walls,” Cooper says ecstatically. “Aww, ones with kitties on them.”

“Or I could just mount your head to the wall as a warning not to piss Ms. Graham off,” Ella counters.

Cooper sinks into the sofa, face scrunched.

“Anyway,” Ella turns back to Wes, “I love working with the younger generation.”

“Okay. Calm down, grandma.” He chuckles. “You’re only eighteen.”

Ella gives him a double middle finger salute.

“What about you?” Wes asks Anna. “What’re you gonna do when the store closes?”

There, he’s said it out loud. Two months ago, Wes would’ve had to lock himself in a bathroom, struggling to breathe, before he’d accept the bookstore’s closing. But he’s being an adult. Wes is taking this like a champ, pretending that mist that’s clouding his vision and the soreness in his throat aren’t there.

Anna taps her chin thoughtfully. “I’ll finish school and then maybe work at a bank? I could manage a branch. I’m good with money.”

She is. It’s the management part Wes thinks could use some extra care. But Anna’s held up well while Mrs. Rossi has been M.I.A., so he decides to let it slide.

Their eyes turn on Cooper. He shakes his head. “Don’t look at me.I’m sixteen. I just figured out what pizza topping I like best.”

“Lies,” Ella says, reaching over to steal the bag. It’s empty. “Just last week it took you ten minutes to decide if you wanted marinara or white sauce.”

“Still.” Cooper angles his body in Wes’s direction. “Aren’t we allowed to change our minds about things? As much as I love my parents, I’m pretty sure they have no clue what they’re doing half the time.”

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