Page 36 of The Summer of Everything

“Hey,” Nico says around another bite. “Peanut butter, orange soda, or High Mountain oolong?”

Wes wants to laugh at these ridiculous choices. First of all, Nico knows Wes isn’t going to choose that artificial abomination this world calls orange soda. Second, he knows Wes has recently developed a love for oolong tea thanks to Kyra and Brews and Views’ ever-changing menu.

But Wes says, “Peanut butter,” because it’s his go-to snack.

“I knew it,” Nico says, like always.

Wes isn’t in the mood to call him on his shit, not after the day he’s had.

“You’re so predictable.” Nico nudges Wes.

Did you predict I’d fall in love with you?

Wes’s brain is a disaster. He can’t take his eyes off the way Nico’s index finger pushes his glasses up his nose, leaving a white streak behind. He’s licking sugar from his thumb. It should be gross—it is gross—but Wes’s heart refuses to use that as motivation to just say what he’s supposed to say.

Stick to the plan.

“Gents, I must say…” Cooper leans over the back of the bench, his face swooping in between their shoulders. “… this is becoming the best summer of my life.”

“All sixteen years, huh,” Kyra says. She’s arm in arm with Anna as they stand behind Cooper.

“There’s no age on souls,” says Cooper, smiling lazily. It’s not hard to deduce he’s stoned.

“It’s a pretty wicked summer.” Nico slings an arm around Wes’s shoulders.

“Did we all miss the part about being jobless and one of this city’s greatest monuments being shut down?” Wes asks, his throat tight.

“Isn’t a monument something people build in memory of a person or place?” Kyra inquires.

“Thank you, Google,” huffs Wes.

Teasingly, Kyra nudges the back of his head. “Shut up.”

“Don’t give up, young son of Queen Savannah,” Cooper says. “It’s not over. We’re in the endgame now.”

“Did you just quoteInfinity Warto me?” Wes says, offended.

Cooper’s mouth stretches as if it’s made of taffy.

“He’s right,” Anna agrees. “If Mrs. Rossi hasn’t told us, then maybe there’s still a chance.”

Okay, they’re both stoned.

“Can we not talk about this right now?” Cooper requests. Wes couldn’t agree more.Let’s never talk about Once Upon a Page being shut down. Ever. “Junior year is on the horizon. Another one hundred and eighty days of math and science-y stuff. I just want to chill with my friends. My homies. My peeps.”

Wes thinks Cooper’s the kind of kid who never checks his Halloween candy before ingesting.

Before he knows it, words are being tossed around—something about hashtags and selfies—and Wes is squeezed between four people on the bench as Cooper plops into his lap. Phone extended, Cooper shouts, “Say ‘peeps not creeps,’” and then a flash. Another flash.

“Wicked,” Cooper says, dethroning from Wes’s knees.

Wes’s phone buzzes in his pocket. With Nico on one side and Anna on the other, he has to wiggle to reach it.

New notification from coopsarrow.

He’s tagged everyone in the post.

The selfie’s respectable. Pacific Park shines in the background. Cooper must’ve used a photo-editing app to remove the flash’s red-eye effect. Kyra and Anna are smiling goofily. Cooper’s beaming as if he’s physically walking on clouds. Nico’s glasses are crooked; his mouth gapes, white teeth blinding.

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