So long, and thanks for all the fish.
They’re playingourmovie. Abbi looks a little suspicious as we both dance to the intro song and sing all the words, but it’s harmless. Just two friends vibing.
Ten minutes in, I desperately need a snack.
“I’m going to get snacks,” I say quietly as I slide to the end of the bed and hop off. “Anyone want anything?”
“I’ll come,” Luke says, jumping over the side and landing next to me.
“I’ll take some popcorn,” Maddy says, eyes glued to the screen as Ford and Arthur argue.
“Gummy bears, please,” Abbi adds, giving Luke a side glance and raising her eyebrows at me. Cam squeezes her knee, and she says, “And Junior Mints,” before pulling him in for a kiss. I smirk at her when she finally pulls away and mouthStrike twowhile she sticks her tongue out at me. Then I turn and skip off, grinning.
“What are you so pleased about?” Luke asks as we move quietly toward the food trucks and the fundraiser tent.
“Oh, nothing, sister stuff,” I say. We make it past the last cars to the dock.
“Ah, got it. My little brothers are like that. They have, like, a secret code between the two of them.”
“Not with you?”
He shrugs. “I’m too old, I think, and with my dad gone…I’ve definitely taken on some semi-parenting stuff that means we’re not always on the same side.”
“I’m sorry. That sucks.” He shrugs again, one strong shoulder rising and falling.
“I’m sorry too. For what I said about your art. I don’t think it’s kid stuff, really. I just, well, I can’t really play around with hobbies anymore. My mom really needs to be able to rely on me, and art doesn’t help pay the bills or for Adam’s lacrosse equipment and Oliver’s skateboards—which I swear he keeps wrecking on purpose.” He shakes his head and laughs. “You should see his kneepads. That kid is fearless.”
“It sounds hard,” I say, feeling guilty again for not having known how tough the divorce has been on him. “And unfair.” I work out carefully how to say what I’m feeling. “They’re your brothers, not your kids.”
“I don’t mind helping,” he says firmly. “I want to be there for them and my mom.”
We come up on the main tent, and Luke pops in to say hi to the organizers, but it quickly becomes clear that he’s one of them too. While I wait for him to help someone with an issue with the second movie, I stare at the poster taped up beside the tent. It has an old-school 1940s advertising vibe, with a classic car at a drive-in, an illustration of the footbridge on the screen. The lines are clean, the font sharp. I can’t believe I missed this. It’s Luke’s.
He reemerges from the tent. “Sorry, being the youngest volunteer means answering a lot of questions about tech. You ready for snacks?”
“Yeah. No. Wait. I think I missed it before because of all the color,” I tease, pointing to the poster, “but this is yours, isn’t it?”
Luke tries to brush it off.
“Yeah, it was cheaper than hiring a real designer.”
“Luke,” I say, “youarea real designer. This is awesome.”
“Thanks. Should we grab the snacks?” He changes the subject quickly, pointing to the line by concessions.
“Yeah.” I fall into step next to him, not sure why he’s being so weird about the poster. Behind us, on-screen, Earth implodes.
I catch Luke watching me watch the movie, and something clicks in my brain.
“Wait…did you pick the movie?” I ask, looking at him.
“Uh…” Luke scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah.” He starts to play with the frayed edges of his T-shirt. “When I knew you’d be here, I switched it. It’s your favorite,” he says.
I reach out and squeeze his hand in thanks. Even though he has no idea what’s been going on with my health, it feels like he still knows how much this summer means to me. Luke grips my hand, his calloused palm familiar and warm. He looks down where we’re linked, then up at me. The movie is the only thing casting any light, so we’re standing in shadow. In the dark, his eyes look like a deep, cozy part of the ocean as they hold me there, pinned. My heart races and my fingers go cold. I should let go. Why am I not letting go? It’s like the pieces of my heart sitting in his chest are magnets tugging me in. I feel like I did when we were sixteen, intense and desperate. I’m heartbroken all over again remembering that I wanted to be with him more than anything, and he…didn’t. I don’t want him to see what I’m feeling, to pity me.
My eyes flick to his mouth, which is quirked open like he’s about to say something, but before he can, a girl comes out of nowhere and throws her arms around Luke’s neck. He drops my hand like it’s on fire.
“Izzy!” he says, turning to hug the girl back. “When did you get home?”
