Page 33 of The Summer of Everything

Huh. Strike one, BuzzFeed.

“You weren’t worried, were you?” Anna inquires.

“What? No.” In a failed attempt to be nonchalant, Wes hugs his knees,pfftingat Anna’s insinuation. “I’m just looking out for my BFF. I screen all applicants that could turn into potential love interests.”

“Uh huh. Sure thing.”

Wes cocks his chin. There’s no way Anna can see through his façade. He’s too smooth. He says, “Yeah, well, good talk,” while Anna stares at him as if he’s full of shit.

It’s okay. She’s not the first person to solve life’s mysteries while he flounders.

When she leaves, Wes’s thumb hovers over the delete option on his new list. “No,” he whispers to himself, locking his phone. Anna and Nico might not be a thing, but that doesn’t mean Wes doesn’t need this list too.

It’s a fail-safe, that’s all.

* * *

At twilight, the scene aroundthe Santa Monica Pier is euphoric. From Wes’s view on a bench, he can see the deep blue-black water stretching toward endlessness. In his peripheral vision, the arcade’s blinking neon lights are fuzzy pinks and blues. Theslap-crackfrom the air hockey table is as loud as the screams from the West Coaster, the pier’s rollercoaster. The lights twinkling off Pacific Park envelop the area in a hypnotic glow.

Wes inhales deeply. Sugary cotton candy, fresh churros, sundrenched wood, briny sea water—everything comes at him at once. He smiles.

Anna’s the one who suggested they come down to the pier. Cooper, Kyra, and Nico agreed to tag along. Zay had a family dinner. Wes doesn’t want to think about where Ella probably is. They haven’t talked since she crushed his reality with that email.

Nearby, a couple leans against the railing that overlooks the beach. They’re attempting to take a selfie while kissing. It’s awkward and adorable. Wes is uncomfortably jealous.

He looks at the famous Route 66: End of the Trail sign everyone poses in front of. A father hoists his daughter onto his shoulders while someone snaps a picture on their phone. Wes wonders if, in ten years, that daughter will remember this moment beyond photographic evidence on social media? How does the brain decide what memories to keep permanently and which ones to copy-and-paste when needed? Which ones do people delete in order to create space for new ones?

Wes stares at his Chucks tapping against the wood beneath. The pier’s a century old. It’s probably in millions of tourists’ photo albums. He ponders whether the architects imagined this incredible structure being nothing more than someone’s phone screen wallpaper. Endless history exists here. It’s a landmark in Santa Monica’s story. On some levels, Wes thinks the same of the bookstore.

Will Once Upon a Page earn a Wikipedia page after it closes?

His brain works in mysterious—also, destructive—ways.

Wes pulls one leg to his chest and rests his foot on the edge of the bench. Down the pier, Nico stands in line at a food cart. Wes hopes he gets funnel cakes. He also hopes he’s doing a stellar job at being covert while staring at how soft Nico looks in his glasses with flat hair and an ash-gray hoodie. He amazes himself at being able to pine while the world is on fire.

“Hey. Aren’t you that guy from the bookstore?”

When Wes lifts his head, he isn’t expecting much. He’s definitely not expecting a guy that’s easily three inches taller than him with tan skin and sharp features. He’s beaming at Wes, one side of his mouth higher than the other.

“Uh.” Wes shrugs. “I guess?”

The guy laughs. He pushes fingers through his dark hair. It’s long on top, as if he could pull it into a topknot. “Oh, right. You don’t know who the hell I am. Sorry.”

Wes’s brain short-circuits, staring into this guy’s charming brown eyes. “I’m not really good with faces,” Wes says. “A lot of people come through the store.” An obvious lie. “Should I know you?”

“Nah. I’ve never been to the bookstore.”

“Oh.” Wes raises an eyebrow. “So…”

“I follow coopsarrow on Insta,” the guy explains. “He posts a lot about the bookstore and you.”

“Uh huh.” Wes exhales.

Note to self: remind Cooper what “digital consent” means.

“Coop’s good friends with my cousin too. He’s big time in their community.”

“Their community?”

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