After the last campers leave on Monday, I’m still feeling fine, so I go to the open studio as planned and text Luke again to let him know I’ll be there for a while. I haven’t heard from him, and I’m starting to feel anxious. To take my mind off of it, I prop up my application pieces to look at all three as a whole: one finished, one part, one sketch. But I can’t commit to starting anything when I’m turning around at every change in the breeze, hoping it’s Luke. Iris texts me back with some advice I asked for, and I turn to my second piece and pull in some yellows, surprised and happy at how well it’s working.
Just before five, there’s a light knock on the outside wall, and Luke comes in. His hair is a little wet, like he’s just come from the beach or the shower. He looks nervous, like when we were fourteen and spent one rainy day sneaking from movie to movie at the theater after only paying for one ticket. We sawAcross the Spider-Versethree times. I can’t help but wonder ifhe’s changed his mind, if maybe I passed out and woke up in a different universe where Luke never liked me at all.
“Hi,” I say as he puts his stuff down at the easel next to me and looks at my half-done painting. “There’s paper in the storage room.” This will be easier if we can work while I talk.
He nods and goes to retrieve a few big sheets of paper for his charcoals. Luke always liked the drier or digital mediums. Pastels were the stickiest he’d get. I used to tease him for it, but I keep the barbs tucked in for later, when he’s looking less serious. Luke takes the stool next to me and we settle into a quiet rhythm. With him finally here I feel less distracted, and I make progress on my painting. I make a few notes about how I want to differentiate this piece from the other two, take a photo, and text it to Iris.
I chance a look over at Luke and catch him biting his bottom lip. The three fingers on his left hand are already stained black from the charcoal. He leans back to eye his drawing and frowns at it. Then he pulls it off the easel and crumples it up, tossing it into the huge recycling bin nearest to us. Before I can tell him off for ruining such a good piece, he starts on a new page. I need to stop stalling. I take a deep breath and begin with an apology.
“I’m sorry for not telling you what’s been going on with my heart.” I swallow and push on. “I should have told you the first time, two years ago, even if things were off between us. I just…” I sigh and close my eyes for a second. I listen to the sounds of the birds outside and the air rushing through the open doors and Luke’s charcoal dragging on the paper. I openmy eyes and turn to him. “I felt like my life was over, and it didn’t seem like you wanted or needed me around, so I didn’t want to want or need you around.”
“It was a weird summer,” he says.
I snort, then put my hand over my mouth. “Sorry. That’s just…an understatement.” Thankfully he smiles. My heart liquefies, and instead of fighting it, I lean in. “I was falling for you,” I admit. The words are cold in my mouth like I’ve been sucking on an ice cube. “And I thought it was the same for you.”
“It was,” Luke jumps in, putting his charcoal down and turning on the stool to face me. “It still is. I meant what I said.”
I hold up my hand to stop him. I need to get it all out before he says anything else.
“When we were supposed to meet on the beach that night, I thought you were going to ask me to the end-of-camp dance, and I had this whole plan for saying yes.” I laugh a little, remembering the outfit, my rehearsed reply. It’s only been two years, but that version of me seems so young, so vulnerable. “And then when I missed meeting you because I was sick, I got scared that everything I was doing was about to be mylastthing. You were my firstbestfriend. Did I want you to be my last first kiss? My last first date? It felt like so much…”
“Pressure?” Luke asks, and I nod. I take a moment to think, and he leans closer, taking my hand gently in his.
“Because I knew that if we got together, it wouldmatter. You know?” I say. “It would be different than it had been with other boyfriends. Heavier. And I freaked out.”
“And you canceled,” he says.
I nod. “Yep. Then Abbi caught me crying and made me tell her what was up. She convinced me to go after you.”
“What a sap,” he jokes as I get a little choked up.
“I know, right.” I wipe a half-formed tear away from my eye and keep going. “I went to the beach first, but you weren’t there. So I went to find you, at that party in Dennis, to apologize and ask you out myself. I was going to explain about my heart too…” I trail off.
“And you saw me with Izzy.”
I nod.
Luke wipes a hand over his face. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how that felt.”
I let out a hollow laugh. “It really hurt.”
“Sera, I’ve known Izzy for years. And she was there that night, like she’d been all summer, daring me to pick her.” He blinks away a tear. “That day, I’d been ready to ask out the greatest girl in the world. But first, I walked in on my dad cheating, and then, from my perspective, I got stood up. I thought you changed your mind because you didn’t like me the way I liked you. And Izzy…she was easy to be around. And I needed to get lost in something that wasn’t hurting me.” He shrugs. “I’m so sorry you saw us. I was upset, and I made a dumb decision. I wanted to tell you about it after, but then you were gone, and I didn’t know how.”
I squeeze his hand. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to be there for you, and I’m glad she was.”
“I should have told you how I felt sooner.”
“You were dealing with something really big.”
He shakes his head. “Still. I’m an idiot.”
“Maybe we both are,” I say.
“So, can we put all that behind us?” he asks, rubbing his thumb across my wrist, sending little shivers up my arm.
I wish I could just say yes, but I need to be honest with him now.
“Yes.” His face lights up. “But about what you said the other night.”
