It’s been three weeks since our kiss that Reed interrupted. Three weeks since Miles and I were alone together. All our shifts at the shop have included Shepard and all our days at the lake have been with Reed. Three weeks have passed, and we’ve never talked about it. If it weren’t for the occasional glance Miles steals my way when neither one of them are looking, I’d have thought it never even happened at all. Worse yet, it’s the last day of the summer. We leave tomorrow.
“Well, you two. What should we do on our final day in paradise?” Reed asks, standing between us with his arms slung over our shoulders. He has a pair of aviator sunglasses pushed on top of his hair and looks like he does every day: tanned and in board shorts, ready to swim.
Miles and I steal a glance at each other. The kind of weighted glance that saysWe have a lot to talk about and no time to do it.
“You and I don’t leave tomorrow,” Miles reminds Reed. “I think we should let Teddy decide.”
What I want is a day alone with Miles. I want to feel his hand tunnel in my hair again, taste the spearmint on his lips, and feel his fingers threaded through mine. I want to tell him all the reasons why this summer has been my favorite one yet. But that would be living in a fantasy land. One where Reed Morgan wasn’t our best friend.
Instead, I tell them something I don’t want at all.
“I kind of want a day to just lay out in the sun. Maybe sketch. Just soak it all in.”
I feel a stinging in my eyes as I say it. The truth is, I’m never ready to leave this place. No matter what I do today, it won’t feellike enough time. All I can do now is try my best to bring a piece of it with me.
“We can do that,” Miles agrees at the same time Reed whines, “That’s what you want to do on your last day here?”
Miles glares at Reed.
“I just feel like if we go boating and fish and climb the oak tree and get raspberry shakes at LaBeau’s and do all the things we’ve loved to do together this summer, the day will be gone. Maybe if we take it slow, it will last longer,” I explain.
I want it to last forever.
Reed nods and I think even if he doesn’t agree, he understands. “Okay, I can do slow. And Miles, you were born to do slow,” he jokes, earning himself another glare.
“Oh, come on, I’m kidding,” Reed says. “Teddy, you go get that sketchbook of yours. Miles, you bring the towels, and I’ll grab the chips.” He puts his hand out flat like he’s ready to start a team cheer, but neither Miles nor I are feeling very cheery today.
Reed exhales. “New plan. By the time we all make it out to the dock, we’re happy, okay? I can handle spending the day slow, but I can’t handle mopey. Mopey is not the lasting memory you want.”
Miles and I both nod, then we toss our hands on top of his.
“One, two, three, break!” We lift our arms in a collective circle in the air.
Reed jogs toward the staircase leading to the upper deck of his cabin as I turn for my room, but Miles grabs my arm first.
“Teddy, wait.” He pulls me back to face him, his dark brows zipped together, and something about the way his voice lowers and his eyes scan my face makes me pause. “Can we talk about the kiss?”
Now? He wants to talk about the kiss that we should have talked about three weeks ago?It’s the moment I’ve been waiting for, so I can hardly believe it when I shake my own head.
“I can’t,” I say.
An unbearable pain squeezes my throat shut.
Miles looks stunned. Then hurt.
“You can’t, or you don’t want to?” he presses.
“Both,” I say.
“Oh.”
He says it like I slapped him and drops my arm. There’s so much hurt in his eyes, and I want to explain why. Ineedto explain why, but before I can, Reed’s jogging back to us, his arms bursting with junk food. Even though Miles is hurt, he can’t look away from me, and I’m afraid Reed will read right through us if I hold his stare any longer.
“Wow, I see we’re clinging to that lack of urgency today,” he says, scoping out our empty hands.
“Going,” Miles grunts first. I watch as his jaw tightens, and the second stage of grief replaces the hurt.
He’s angry, and that was our last chance at being alone.
