Page 5 of Summer's Echo
“Echo,” I stammered, his name sticking in my throat. “Wha–What’s good? What are you doing here?” I stood frozen, realizing this, in fact, wasn’t a dream. My best friend, the one person who knew my heart better than anyone, was standing before me—a real flesh-and-blood human. It had been about year—twelve long, agonizing months since I’d last seen him.
Echo paused, tilting his head slightly, his narrowed eyes searching mine, always able to decipher my unspoken words. “Everybody’s looking for you, Sun,” he said softly, the words laced with compassion.
I swallowed hard, nodding. “But you…you knew where to find me.” The realization sent a flush of warmth to my cheeks. “How did you know I’d come here?” I blinked rapidly, trying my best to see him clearly through foggy glasses and the haze clouding my thoughts.
“It didn’t take long to figure it out. This has always been your hideaway—our spot. Your safe place.” Echo chuckled, a low, soothing sound that tugged at my heart. “For weeks during that one perfect summer, this place was our solace. Then it became our Saturday getaway when our parents drove us crazy during senior year.” His voice carried a warmth that made the memories feel close enough to touch. “So, I couldn’t think of any other place you would want to be…under the circumstances,” he added, his tone gentle, cautious.
With hesitant steps, Echo closed the distance between us, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his suit pants. It was as if he was anchoring himself against the pull we both seemed to feel, a gravity neither of us could name.
“Summer, are you okay?” he asked, concern etching every handsome line on his face. His voice was steady, but the crease in his brow revealed a deeper worry. “I’m…everyone is worried about you.”
I nodded, but didn’t answer his question. I couldn’t—not yet. “Did anybody follow you, E? Did you tell anyone I was here?” My words spilled out shaky as I glanced over his shoulder, scanning the trail, expecting an angry procession of family members.
“Nah. Come on now,” he said, shaking his head. “You know I wouldn’t do that to you. Your parents’ spot is basically Find Summer headquarters. I snuck away once I realized where you’d be.”
Echo moved closer to me, unsure of my state, but his steps betrayed his uncertainty. He carefully studied my face, searching, almost pleading, for any clues of what was circling through my head. When he finally reached me, he gently cupped my chin, his touch featherlight but purposeful. His thumb grazed my cheek, nearly drawing the truth straight from my soul like a sorcerer. It was a gesture so familiar—so much like the Echo I remembered—that I nearly broke under its spell.
“Sun,” he said, his voice cracking just a little, “you need to call your parents, or I can call them for you. They’re worried sick. Can I tell them you’re okay—just let them know you’re safe?”
Unshed tears welled up as I buried my face in the palms of my hands. The mention of my parents sent a sharp ache through my chest. It started subtly, like a faint buzzing under my skin, but within seconds, the sensation grew louder. The soft whimpering I tried to contain escaped my lips; the sobs tore through the silence, loud and unsettling. My heart pounded violently, slamming against my ribs, the rhythm erratic and out of control. It was happening. The magnitude of my situation finally shattered the fragile calm I’d been clinging to all day, releasing a wave of panic that erupted deep within me. Unable to speak, I leaned into the warmth of his hands, letting them cradle the heaviness of my despair.
Through the chaos, his quiet, comforting voice whispered calmly, “Breathe. Just breathe, Sunshine.” Following his lead, finally, I nodded, giving him permission to make the phone call. Echo tilted his head slightly, his expression softening as he reached for his phone. I watched as he dialed, my heart heavy but grateful, knowing that for a moment, I didn’t have to carry this alone.
When I’d made the decision to basically run away this morning, I didn’t pause to consider my parents: their worry, their heartbreak, the gnawing fear as the minutes ticked by, and their daughter—their baby girl—was nowhere to be found. Making my parents proud had always been my life’s mission, but in this moment, I was certain I had failed. The weight of Oliver and Teresa’s disappointment pressed heavily on my heart. My chest tightened as guilt clawed at me, but Echo’s calm presence kept me grounded. I studied his face, trying to piece together what he was doing here while hearing the heartbreak in my mother’s raspy tone. Immediately, I felt myself shrink, retreating into the self-conscious little girl I thought I’d left behind.
Summer
That One Summer in 2004
It was a sweltering hot Saturday morning in June, the kind where the heat clung to your skin even before you’ve stepped outside. Our eighties ranch-style home sat on a cul-de-sac in a quaint mostly Black neighborhood. The cinnamon-colored brick with chestnut-brown shutters was shaded by the mature oak tree in the front yard where little pig-tailed girls jumped double Dutch and sweat-laced boys tossed a basketball in a makeshift hoop.
I groaned as the sun peeked through my window, its unwelcomed warmth dragging me from the bed I had no desire to leave. Regret hit me like a ton of bricks. Why had I stayed out so late at the midnight drive-in with my friends watchingTrainingDay? Then again, Denzel Washington was worth every minute. Still, I was paying the price today as I wrestled with my sluggish body.
Lifting the blinds, I rolled my eyes. Sure, the neighborhood kids were cute, but their boisterous cackles creeping through my window were getting on my last nerve. With a sigh, I rolled out of bed, catching a blurry glimpse of my reflection in the dresser mirror. I slid on my glasses to get a closer look. Time for my daily round of self-criticism. I stood there with my hair wrapped in a satin scarf, wearing an old New Edition t-shirt and yellow panties. Carefully, I unraveled the scarf from my head, finger-combing my relaxed hair, allowing it to fall loose around my face, brushing my shoulders. I loved the new auburn-brown hue that complemented my smooth caramel skin and coffee-colored eyes perfectly. For a moment, I smiled wide, admiring my dimples, which pierced the centers of my cheeks.
But, as usual, I studied the things that I hated. Okay, maybehatewas a strong word, but I focused on the things I strongly disliked—my glasses, large breasts, the slight jiggle in my stomach and hips, which seemed too grown for a girl still trying to figure herself out. The pretty smile that I loved faded, and I sighed. Why was it always so much easier to see the flaws?
Just as I spiraled down the endless road of negativity, my mother’s voice echoed in my mind.“You are beautiful,special, and worthy,”she would always say in the steady and reassuring tone that I needed. I whispered the mantra to myself:“I am beautiful, special, and worthy.”I repeated the words over and over, reassurance washing over me until the bad thoughts faded, disappearing just as fast as they’d come.
Besides, I had bigger and better things to focus on today. I was heading back to Camp Quest, the sleepaway camp in Brighton Falls where I’d spent every summer since middle school. For the last three summers, I’d been a counselor there—it was my escape, my happy place. I’d just wrapped up my junior year of high school with a strong grade point average, and I couldn’t wait for all the class of 2005 shenanigans my upcoming senior year would bring. But first, there was one more summer at Camp Quest—a summer that already felt like it was going to be something unforgettable. I could just feel it.
The rapid knocking at my bedroom door broke me from my haze. I slipped into a pair of shorts before yelling, “Come in.”
“Rise and shine.” My daddy’s boisterous guffaw filled my tiny yellow bedroom. I rolled my eyes but couldn’t prevent the smile creeping up my cheeks. My daddy was my dude. I admired our matching reflections in the mirror.
“Good morning, Daddy,” I said.
“Give me some love,” he requested. I kissed his cheek and fell into the hug I looked forward to every morning.
“You’re getting paid the big bucks this summer, huh? You can pay some rent,” he teased.
I shook my head. “Daddy, you’re so silly. Every penny is going toward a car, so I will not be paying any rent, sir. Y’all still have to feed me until I’m at least twenty-one,” I said, nudging him playfully.
Although I thought my dad was the corniest guy ever, I secretly couldn’t wait for his cheesy jokes and that big, booming laugh. It was like clockwork: He’d crack some goofy joke, and I’d dramatically sigh with all the irritation I could muster, but deep down, I loved every minute. On those days when I felt like my light was dimming, I craved the sound of his voice. Oliver Knight had a way of making me feel like I was the brightest star in the room, even when I didn’t believe it myself. And today was one of those days. I always looked forward to summer camp, but this year was different. This would be my last hoorah at Camp Quest, and the thought of it being over was bittersweet.
“One step at time, one day at a time, Summer. Enjoy it. Don’t worry about what might happen—focus on today. Okay?” my dad whispered, somehow knowing exactly what was going on in my head. I nodded, and he gently lifted my chin. This man—my daddy—he was everything to me. His face held that familiar tenderness that gave me a sense of safety and certainty, like nothing could go wrong as long as he was around. But it was the pride in his voice when he talked to me… It was like taking a breath of fresh air, instantly bringing me back to life, just when I needed it most.
“Hey, my sassy girl! Are you ready?”Mama.While daddy was my dude, my mama? She was my favorite girl, hands down. She was truly one-of-a-kind; there was not another like her. She was what some would call a redbone with her smooth milky skin, short coal-black hair, and high cheekbones dusted with freckles. She had a curvy yet petite frame that I would’ve killed to inherit. We were the same height, but her bold and feisty energy made her seem ten feet tall. While safety resided in my daddy’s tone, my mama’s voice was something different. It was a mix of humility, conviction, and straight-up confidence. Every time she utteredSummer Sierra,it was like she was convincing me that I could take on the world, as long as I committed my heart and mind to it. Teresa Knight was truly my muse. My parents were standing in my room gazing at me as if I was getting prepared to go off to war. They did this every year.
