Page 39 of Summer After Summer

“I’ve got a few more minutes. I can stay until the first firefly, at least.”

I squeeze his hand and we turn on our backs, our bodies lined up next to each other. The sun is still up, but it’s slipping down the horizon, casting long shadows across the lawn. I can hear the waves against the shore, the slow beat of them cresting, then sucking out again, like the slow beat that builds in me whenever Fred touches me.

In the dark, he tells me that he’s never felt this way before. He hasn’t gone into the details, but I know there’s been at least one girl before me. I don’t want to know how far they went or if they went all the way. Thinking of him with someone else breaks me.

“What shall we do tomorrow?” I ask.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten our one-week anniversary.”

Fred catches at the bracelet on my wrist. I never take it off, not even during tennis. “Didn’t you want to go to that party on the beach?”

“Not really.”

“Isn’t Ash expecting you?”

“Yes, and she complained again today that I’ve abandoned her for you.” My Ash time has been reduced from five hours a day to two—we do the pool till lunchtime, but then after I go to the beach and hang with Fred. I know it’s wrong to abandon your friends for a boy, but I can’t help it. I want to be with him every second of every day. I even thought, briefly, about cutting back on tennis practice, but quickly tossed that idea away. I can love Fred and tennis in equal measure—they’re both going to be part of my future, and Fred understands that.

“Let’s go, then,” Fred says. “It’ll be fun.”

“But you hate all those guys from work.”

“Not hate, exactly.”

“Okay, we’ll go. But not for too long.”

I turn my face toward him and he’s right there, his lips inches away. “Not for too long.”

“Hurry up, Fred will be here in a minute.” It’s after dinner, and Ash and I are in my room, getting ready.

“I thought he was meeting us there.” Ash is trying to get her slippery hair to stay in a high ponytail to match the “fifties look” she’s decided on for the evening—a halter dress in a bold print that twirls when she spins.

“What’s the big deal? Here, there?”

“Because the minute he gets here you’re just going to start ignoring me.” Ash holds up her hand. Her nails are the same bright pink as her dress. “And don’t bother denying it. You know it’s true.”

“I’m sorry.”

She pouts. “I miss you. This was supposed to be our summer together. Now I barely see you, and when I do, all you talk about is him.”

“I’m not that bad, am I?”

“You are.”

“Better than talking about tennis all the time, right?”

“I mean …”

“I’m sorry.”

“You already said that. What about all our plans? What about the list?”

“What list?”

She spins in her chair. “My point exactly! The only thing you’ve ticked off has to do with kissing him.”

“We never finished the list.”

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