Page 47 of Summertime Friends

On both handsand feet, I could count the number of times that I desired to open this box. My willpower was so short some nights that I woulddistract myself.

Tonight though? I need them.

Ineedto relive those years. I need the comfort of these memories. Even though pain will inevitably come with reminiscing, I know I’ll be wrapped in a blanket of comfort from the best summers of my life and my favorite version of myself.

I undo the rubber band that is holding a stack of photos together. It snaps me in the palm.

The photo on top is of Liam, Callum, and George. They’re smiling on the beach in Lagos. They had just finished a push-up contest. George was trying to prove he was the strongest, but I didn’t mind the view. Callum ultimately won and didn’t let them forget it for the remainder of the day. I laugh out loud, thinking about how easily they adopted me into their trio. Beatrix and Audrey, too. Joking with me as if I was one of them. In many ways, I was one of them.

Before looking through the photos, I pull out the book and open it up. On the dedication page, in his surprisingly nice handwriting for a male, it says:You are enough, States.

20

LIAM

Six Summers Ago

“Are you going to tell us why Beatrix is with someone else?” Callum interrogates George.

“Isn’t she always with someone else?” George makes a face and takes a large drink of his tropical cocktail, complete with a little umbrella skewered into a slice of pineapple. “It’s just how it is with us.”

“But this is the first time she’s ever walked away from someone else to be with you?” I chime in.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care,” George lies. He does care; he always has. They can’t figure their shit out. At first, they blamed it on George going to medical school, but I don’t think her parents like him all that much. They see him below her, below their status and money. Beatrix lives for her parents’—a.k.a. dad’s—opinion, but at some point, when is it too much and time to say screw off?I did.

“You do care. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be a lovesick puppy dog right now wishing that Bea would have said yes to coming instead of probably off shagging her friend.”

“Callum.” I throw a warning look in his direction.

“What? He does!”

“I love her. I have since secondary school. I know she loves me, but this—this is us, and we are both okay with it. Please drop it,” George says with more emotion than I think he’s ever shown in the duration of our friendship.

“When was the last time you talked to her about a relationship?”

“A year ago,” George replies to me.

“I think you should talk to her again. You might be surprised that she’s changed her mind,” I say.

“Yeah. Maybe I’ll call her up when we get back to London. Now, can we please focus on a fun boys’ day in Lagos?”

“Boys and Emerson,” I correct him.

“Right, the cheeky brunette. Saw her in your bed when Bea and I got back. The door was propped open before you call me a gossip.” George and Callum both bounce their eyebrows at me.

“And I was on the couch before you made me go into the room,” I tell them. “Be nice to her.” I toss back my drink.

“A please wouldn’t hurt,” Callum coos.

“Oi, Liam. Always nice to girls from America,” George smirks at me and then orders another drink. “Can I have another one of these?” He points down at the drink using the pink umbrella.

Callum and I follow suit and order another round of drinks while we wait for Emerson to meet us in the lobby before heading to the beach. We fall into our usual banter around Premier League and Premiership Rugby.

Emerson finally shows up in the lobby. The sound of her sandals clicking on the floor has our heads turning toward her. She’s wearing the same denim shorts from earlier, but this time, no shirt, only a seersucker teal blue string bikini. Her hair is up in a high ponytail.

I fucking love a high pony.

George pats me on the shoulder twice as he walks by. “Good luck with that one,” he says quietly.

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