Page 38 of Summer's Echo
“Boy, you have one more time to argue withme about Chicago-style pizza versus Imo’s.”
“I’mjust saying, there’s no comparison.”
It never took uslong to block out the world when we were together. We joked and laughed like there weren’tother peoplestanding right there waiting for our attention. We swapped promstories,our conversation slipping into an easy rhythm. Ishould have noticed the way Aliya’sarms tightened acrossher chestor how Devin checked his phone twice, exhalingsharply. But I didn’t. Not until Aliya finally snapped.
“Echo, how long are we staying?”she said, irritationdripping from every syllable.
Her stance was rigid, bordering onpossessive, and it made my stomach twist because she wasright. I had no businessmonopolizing her date’s timeon prom night. If the roles were reversed, I’dbefurious. I forced myself to look at Devin, expectingthe same frustration. I wasn’t wrong. Hiscreased browsmatched Aliya’s.
And suddenly, it clicked. Echo and Iwere more than close. We had become soinseparablethateven on a night meant for other people, other dates, other memories, we still found our way to eachother. It was like breathing. And yet, as I glancedat Aliya’s crossed arms and Devin’s clenched jaw,an unsettling thought crept in. This wasn’t normal…right? It couldn’t be. This wasdysfunctional, right?
I swiped a hand down my face to disrupt the memory before I joined Echo. “Hey,” I said, my voice soft. I’d slipped into black cotton shorts and a cropped tank withBirthday Girlpainted across the front in glittery letters. The shirt revealed just enough of my navel to play peek-a-boo, and as I turned back toward Echo, I caught the slight curve of his lips as his eyes lingered on the words across my chest.
“The Creative Crew?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, clearly curious about the origin of the shirt.
I nodded. “How’d you guess?”
His eyes traveled over me, starting from my long tresses hanging loose but pushed back with a decorative scarf, down to the silver hoops dangling from my ears. I could feel the weight of his gaze, not in a way that made me self-conscious, but in a way that made me hyper-aware. Over the past year, my style had definitely shifted.
Baggy clothes were now a distant memory, replaced by outfits that were a little more appealing—or maybe just a little more revealing. I’d grown, changed, and maybe even glowed a little. I wasn’t just the witty and outspoken girl I used to be. I was finding confidence in myself, piece by piece, and I could tell he noticed.
“You think the coast is clear out there?” he asked, nodding toward the window.
“It should be,” I said, stepping closer. “But where are we going?”
His lips quirked mischievously as he held up the mystery bag he’d brought with him. “It’s a surprise,” he said, his voice smooth and playful.
Adrenaline and excitement coursed through us as we weaved our way through the woods, sneaking to our spot. By the time we arrived, the familiar clearing brought an instant calm over me. I hadn’t been back since returning to camp. It just hadn’t felt right to visit without Echo. Yet here we were again, and it felt perfect.
The skyline hadn’t changed. Stars scattered across the blackness like diamonds, with the occasional streak of a shooting star zipping by above us. I stood still, staring into the vastness, getting lost in the night’s beauty. It was so mesmerizing that I didn’t even notice Echo moving around behind me, laying out a blanket, positioning his old boom box, and retrieving food from his bag.
“E, what is this?” I finally asked, turning to find him sitting cross-legged, grinning.
“A birthday picnic,” he replied, matter-of-factly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
He patted the space next to him, and I immediately joined him on the blanket. I couldn’t help but smile. The food was cold, but it didn’t matter. We dug into our favorite meal from Sonic. The silence between us was comfortable; I didn’t have words for how I was feeling, but my grin spoke volumes. It stretched wide, brighter than the stars above, as gratitude and warmth swelled in my chest. I was simply happy to be with him, honored that he thought enough of me to plan something so thoughtful.
But then, I lost my breath when I spotted a greeting card and a small box sitting on the edge of the blanket. The box was burgundy, tied with a neat yellow bow. I reached for it immediately, my curiosity getting the best of me. “Be patient, Sunshine,” he teased, his voice light but firm. “Open the card first.”
I reluctantly set the box aside and picked up the card. It was blue and pink with gold foil print. The front reading,To my verybest friend on your birthday.
As I read, my heart squeezed. Every word inside perfectly described our whirlwind friendship—the debates, the endless laughter, the way we’d effortlessly fallen into each other’s lives. By the time I closed the card, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
“Okay. Now you can open the box,” he said. “I know you’re dying to…impatient ass.”
I did a little celebratory wiggle before finally untying the yellow bow. Inside the box was a delicate, unique butterfly charm made of white and yellow gold, its center lined with six tiny pearls. It was so pretty. I stared at it, speechless. Words failed me. Instead, I looked up at Echo, grateful for his presence. He must’ve noticed my inability to speak because he leaned in, filling the silence.
“I saw it when I was in Chicago last week. I thought it’d be a nice addition to your charm bracelet,” he said, “something to make sure you always think about your boy.” He pointed a finger dramatically at himself.
He closed the distance between us. My fingers tightened around the box when his forehead gently pressed against mine.
“Happy birthday, Sunshine,” he said. “I hope I was able to make your day a little brighter.”
I nodded, my breath shallow, too nervous to break the moment. He cupped my face with a tenderness that sent shivers down my spine. So many unvoiced thoughts hung in the space between us, thick and charged, as the stars bore witness.
The world around us faded as Echo whispered, “I–I think I love you, Summer.” His voice trembled with a vulnerability I’d never heard. Before I could react, he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, the warmth lingering long after his lips moved away.
I sat there, still clutching the box, trying to steady my breathing and my racing thoughts. The words I’d held back for weeks suddenly slipped out in a hushed whisper. “I think I love you, too, E. Thank you…for everything. It’s really beautiful.”
