Henry and I hung out for my whole lunch break, and thenhe explored the park on his own while I finished my tasks. We stopped on our way out to take a photo in front of the fountain, which came out like one of those dreamy #CoupleGoals images on Instagram. There’s a spray of mist behind us, and our faces are lit by a sun flare. Henry’s got an arm looped around my shoulders, and he’s gazing at me, not paying any attention to the camera. He looks utterly smitten. I’m glowing and starry-eyed, grinning.
As we walked back to the Towers, he told me about his favorite exhibits. First, the manta rays because they look like soaring birds, then the gators because they’re badass, and then the sea turtles, he said with a smile, because they remind him of the night we met.
It’s been a good day—a good summer—but every time I start to feel fortunate, I remember that summer will end, and Henrywill return to Spokane, and I’ll be on my own all over again. The inevitability of it is messing with my head. How weird that I, a girl who has never wanted a lasting romance, now thinks about forever with a boy who can’t stay.
Sometimes I catch him staring at me, his expression full of wonder. Sometimes he kisses me like he’s trying to memorize the sensation. Sometimes he uses words likelaterandsomeday, even though we haven’t talked about what’ll happen after August.
Maybe I’ll get accepted to Stony Brook University. Maybe Tati will let me go. Maybe Henry and I will reunite like we did in June. Maybe he’ll visit me on his breaks from West Point.
That’s a whole lot of maybes.
Ours is a summer romance; I knew what I was getting into when I signed on. Though I’ll be lonely when he leaves, though I’ll miss his hugs, his humor, and his easy presence, though so many of Sugar Bay’s landmarks and all of my favorite spots will remind me of him, I’ll be okay.
I’ll have to be.
In the apartment, I toss my bag on the kitchen table, then rummage through the fridge for a snack. It’s midafternoon, and I’m thinking about going down to the pool for a while. Henry and I are hanging out tonight—destination undetermined, though I’m tempted to get him somewhere we can dance again; he’s better than he thinks—so I’ll have to shower and shave my legs and deal with my curls eventually. But I’m nearing the end ofSiren’s Secret, and nothing sounds better than stretching out under the sun with a book.
I’m pulling a bag of baby carrots and the reduced-fat ranch my sister buys from the fridge when she scares the piss out of me by bursting into the kitchen.
“Are you going to share?” she asks, like it’s perfectly normal for her to be in the apartment before dinnertime.
I slap a hand over my racing heart. “Why aren’t you at work?”
“I’m telecommuting.”
“Is that a thing if your workplace is an elevator ride away?”
She shrugs, smooth hair brushing her shoulders. She may be telecommuting, but that didn’t stop her from wielding her flat iron and painting her lips red. “I’m taking care of business. That’s what matters.”
Okay, pod person.
I scatter carrots onto a plate, add ranch, and wave Tati over to the table. She comes with a spring in her step, wearing the most mom-ish coordinating leisure set I’ve ever seen.
“Cool threads,” I say.
She sits, looking down at her outfit. “You think? Davis picked this out.”
I lift a brow. Choosing outfits for each other? That’s personal. A question occurs to me, one I probably should’ve thought to ask before now. “That morning I met him in the kitchen—was that the first time you guys…you know?”
She inspects her cuticles. “No. Not the first.”
“The second?”
She drops her hands to the table and smiles brightly. “He and I went to the mall last night. That was fun!”
“Tati. How many times had he been over before I bumped into him?”
She sighs. “Several.”
“Since when?”
She grimaces. “Christmastime.”
“Christmastime?!”
“It’s not a big deal, Piper. They were casual, those occasions when we…spent time together. And they were sporadic.”
“Christmastime,” I repeat. “Wow. But you were dating Officer Lopez in May. And Mr. Baseball in February and March.”
