Page 51 of Summertime Friends

There’s a beat of silence between us.

“Every few months, he asks about you, though. I reckon he knows.”

“What do you say when he asks about me?” I ask, nervous to know the answer.

“Don’t ask about what you don’t want to know.” His phone beeps, another call coming in. “I’ve got to take this, but Em.”

“Yeah?”

“They aren’t dating.”

“Are you sure?” I don’t believe him.

“Positive.” Callum wraps up our call, telling me he’ll see me soon and to try to get some sleep.

That didn’t help. I miss Liam more now.

I toss my phone on the bed and let out an agonizing groan.

The photos I was looking through before he called are still in my hand. I scoot backward, resting my back against the side of my bed.

With the photos between my fingers, I keep flipping through them. I stop five photos in, holding them as if I could somehow enter them and be taken back to that moment.

It’s a candid picture of me and Liam. George was always sneaking my camera—several photos were taken that I wish I had never seen, but others like this, I wish there were more of them.

We were out for drinks after dinner in Lagos. Liam and I were walking back from the bar to our table. My camera was in George’s hand. I was sure he was using it to zoom in on a girl’s butt.

Liam leaned down to whisper in my ear. Full belly laughs took over me instantly, and I tripped over myself. Liam’s hand, without a drink in it, reached out to catch me and bring me to him. The photo is of him holding me. My body curled into his. My head tilted up at him, smiling and laughing. His eyes locked on me. The expression in them that night was confusing. He kept looking at me as if he wanted me, but it was as if I had grown a second head in the next blink of his eyes.

Liam steadied me; my head was still turned up at him. He brought me closer. As we stood there, he focused his gaze on my lips, mere inches from each other. So close. A single movement from either of us would have caused a collision. His breath hitched as my tongue darted out to moisten my lips.

All I wanted was for him to kiss me.

But something happened when I thought he would lean in and do it. His eyes closed, and he pulled his head away. He released me from his arms and walked back to the table.

George captured the moment.

Ouralmost momentcaptured forever, in a stack with ouralmost forever.

22

EMERSON

Six Summers Ago

Today was one of those days that you remember forever. The type of day you tell your grandchildren about when you’re reminiscing about what it was like to be young and dumb.

This would be my definition of young and dumb.

Alone. In a foreign country, spending the day with three boys I barely know. It also sounds like the start of the nextCrime Junkieepisode, but something deep inside me, so innate, is telling me to do it. Go there. Be with them—be with him.

In all seriousness, though, I couldn’t have imagined a more perfect day.

My expectations were already low—anyone’s would be if you thought you were going to be spending the next four weeks of your life alone. Not that I would have minded, but after having the most fun I’ve had on this trip, I’m grateful to subtract one day from those I’ll spend solo.

“Does this place work for everyone?” Callum asks.

After dinner, we all agreed to go out.

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