Page 1 of Lost Summer
1
ADELE
MAY 2009
Orion clapped her hands together, the metallic bangles on her wrists jangling as she sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes alight with excitement as she waited for my response.
“The Lockwood Festival? Near London?” I asked, arching a delicate brow. The idea of spending money on something so reckless sent a pang of anxiety through me. Yet, a part of me couldn’t help but feel a flicker of excitement.
Could I really let go and have some fun for once?
The afternoon sunlight filtering through the window cast a warm glow on her electric blue hair, making it appear almost iridescent. “How much are the tickets?”
Orion tilted her head to the side, chewing thoughtfully on the inside of her plump, berry-stained lip as she tried to recall the details. We both knew this was a stalling tactic; Orion was masterful at delaying bad news.
“It’s about two hundred,” she finally admitted, her words laced with an apologetic tone.
“Each?” I gasped, my eyebrows shooting up towards my hairline in surprise. The price tag made my chest tighten like a vice. I tried to steady my breathing, but it felt like every ounce of air was caught in my throat.
Orion dragged her fingers down the sides of her face, exposing the soft, fleshy bottom of her eyelids as she groaned. “Yes, each! It includes two nights of camping?—”
“Camping?” I interrupted, the word leaving me with a hint of apprehension. The thought of sleeping on the hard ground in a flimsy tent did not excite me.
“Yes, Dell, camping!” Orion exclaimed, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Then the tickets to get in, of course.”
I glanced at the calendar hanging on the wall, my mind racing as I ran the numbers. “I have about that much in my savings, but I have my MOT in November,” I murmured.
Orion stared at me; her expression similar to someone who had just been asked to bury a body. “So? It’s May, Dell.”
“When’s the festival?” I asked, pushing my caramel-coloured strands out of my eyes with a touch of irritation. The soft, wispy fringe that had once been so stylish now felt like an annoyance.
“August,” Orion replied, a grin slowly forming.
AUGUST2009
“You knowit’s going to rain, right?” Mum declared, her eyes narrowing as she peered down at my fake-tanned, bare legs poking out from beneath the cutoff denim shorts.
“I do,” I replied, the certainty in my voice betraying the butterflies of apprehension fluttering in my stomach.
“Do you have an umbrella?” Mum asked, her brow creasing with concern.
“Mum, it’s a festival,” I reminded her with a light chuckle, the sound bubbling up from deep within my chest. “It’s two nights of having fun, singing in the rain…that kind of thing.”
Mum made a face and shrugged her shoulders, before hugging me tightly. The familiar scent of her lavender perfume enveloped me, comforting and familiar. “Sounds fabulous, darling. Just be careful. Don’t accept any drinks from any strangers. Make sure you zip your tent up every night?—”
I hauled my bag onto my shoulder, neon pink nails gripping the frayed beige strap that probably wouldn’t survive the journey given the sheer weight of mynecessities—bronzer, highlighter, an array of perfumes, and, of course, my precious stash of Kit Kat Chunky—was almost enough to pull me off balance.
Orion waved at us from the bumblebee yellow Fiat Punto, her many beaded bracelets jangling against each other as she moved. I couldn’t see into the back of her car, but I knew I’d have to cram all my belongings alongside hers.
“Bye, Mrs Pickering!” Orion called, her freshly dyed blue hair glowing in the morning sunlight.
I waved at my mum, who cupped her hands around her mouth to give me one last message. “Have fun, but be careful!”
“Will do!” I replied, shooting her a reassuring smile as I pointed out my ridiculously heavy holdall and backpack to Orion.
“Shove it in the back from the front seat—we can’t open the boot, or we’ll never get it to shut again. Big Dave had to help me shut it,” Orion said, chewing nervously on her lower lip as I approached the car.
“Aw, he is so sweet,” I commented, a fond smile tugging at the edges of my mouth.
