I shrug. I haven’t spent much time on art since my dad left last spring, and any budget for an out-of-state school, not to mention somewhere as expensive as an out-of-stateartschool, was off the table. The posters are fun, but they don’t pay the bills. I need to stay close and help with my brothers and the shop. Maybe part-time classes can turn into full-time in a few years, but college isn’t the priority right now.
Sera doesn’t push, thankfully. I don’t want to get into it because it means talking about my dad, and I try to avoid that. She missed her chance to hear about all of this.
We keep walking toward the rocky outcrop and finally fall into light conversation. Sera asks me about baseball, and I give her the highlights of the last couple seasons—our state championship win, the play my teammate and I made to close it up. I catch her twirling a strand of hair around her fingers as shelistens—something she always does when she’s concentrating. If she’s comfortable enough to just be herself, then I should be the same.
I ask if she’s read the new prequel from our favorite series,The Soul Druid Chronicles, that just came out in January, and she lights up.
“Of course! I can’t believe she tied those two timelines together like that. I feel like I need to go back and reread everything.”
“I already am. Lori ordered new copies for me,” I admit.
“Really? I’m jealous. All my copies are in the basement down here, and they have a weird smell.”
“You can borrow mine,” I offer as we reach the rock. “If you want.”
“I know where you live.” She smiles for real this time, her eyes lingering long enough for me to wonder if I still have it wrong, before she turns and scrambles up the side of the rock ahead of me.
I follow her, using our well-worn hand- and footholds. At the top, she hesitates for a second before offering me a hand up. I take it, even though I don’t need it, happy for the small touch. We walk to the edge of the long rock. Sera sits, dangling her feet over the water and watching the ocean slam against the rocks below.
I sit down next to her and lean back as we’re sprayed by the mist from another crashing wave. The rock is warm under my palms, the breeze cool. There’s a foot or so between us, and that space feels charged, a little dangerous. I want to movecloser, but instead I close my eyes and let the sun heat me up, try to ignore the threads in me that feel tied to her.
“I’m sorry about your parents,” Sera says suddenly. “My mom just told me this morning. I didn’t know.”
I freeze.
“I wish I’d replied to your message last year, when you reached out.” She clears her throat, not realizing that last year was just the final act. “I wish I’d been there for you—as a friend. You know?”
“Me too.” The admission is sour in my stomach, but true. Sera used to be the first person I told anything to. Which girls I was crushing on, whatever crazy idea I had for a new art project, or what prank we should pull. But when I started to fall for her, well, I didn’t know how to tell her that. And then my parents started fighting, and I just sort of retreated into myself. Once I held back one thing, it just felt easier to hold back everything.
“Well, I’m here now.” She leans over and bumps me with her shoulder, the contact sparking unwanted goose bumps on my skin. “And I’ll be here all summer…so, like, if you need to catch me up on all the worst shit, I’m happy to listen.” She sounds hesitant. I look at her, holding her gaze.
“You mean it?” I ask.
“Yes,” she replies. “Friends?” She holds her hand out, and like no time has passed, we immediately move into our secret handshake. We invented it when we were twelve in case we were ever suspicious that the other had been body-swapped. Shake, slap palms, slap the backs of our hands, then touch just the tips of our pointer fingers together.
“Friends,” I agree.
“We can even switch up the universe if you need it.” She sweeps her arm at the sparkling water in front of us.
“I think I’ll stay in this one for now,” I admit. “It’s gotten a lot better in the last forty-eight hours.”
I brace for her to pull away, but she doesn’t. Her eyes flick to mine, and I take in her face, her glossy lips, the trail of freckles across her cheeks like a constellation. A heat tingles in my spine as she blushes. She bumps my shoulder again and stays there a minute. I lean back into her.
“It’s weird to be in Northport and not going to camp with you. We’re so old,” she jokes.
“Yeah, I’ll miss it,” I say. “I missed it last year too.”
“You didn’t go?”
I shake my head but don’t elaborate. We couldn’t afford it after the divorce. The lawyer bills were crazy. But I was glad to help Mom, and it would’ve been too painful to be at camp without Sera anyway. It helps that the work at the marina is physical, grueling, and kind of mindless. Between that, working at the shop, baseball, and the girls who started making it so easy to lose myself, I had plenty to keep me busy.
“I’m actually going to be teaching there a few days a week while Miss Iris is away for a bit,” she shares.
“That’ll be fun.” I try to picture Sera in a teacher’s smock and can’t help but laugh. “But you’re going to be terrible at telling the kids to slow up on using materials.”
She laughs too, the sound dancing around us. “What’s the camp going to do? Charge them? They’re kids.” She shakes her head like we aren’t, and maybe that’s true now. “Did you knowthe studio is open to staff? And I can bring a guest, so if you need supplies or a space to draw or anything…” She avoids my gaze. Is she asking me to come by?
“Oh, thanks.” I leave it there. Already this conversation feels like a gift out of time, something she might not repeat again this summer, or ever.
