“Luke,” I say, taking a calming sip of my chai.
Abbi smirks. “I thought you werefine, over it, right?”
“Right. I am,” I tell her, while telling myself that nothing ever really happened, so there’s nothing to be hung up on.There’s a brief silence while we both bask in how I amso not over it.
“Maybe you’ll meet someone new. Cam’s coming down tomorrow with some friends.”
“I’m not dating one of Cam’s friends.” I’m horrified. “I’m not a groupie.”
“But you’d make such a cute groupie,” she says, hip-checking me.
I stumble, my mind still lingering in the café. Abbi reaches out and grabs my hand, forcing me to stop walking.
“Hey,” she says, pulling me to face her. “You were bound to run into him eventually.”
I sigh. “I know, but did it have to be right away?”
“Maybe it’s better this way,” she says, reaching up and brushing my hair behind my shoulder. “It’s happened. It’s over. This summer is about having fun. Don’t let some dumb crush from your past ruin that.”
I look into her calm blue eyes. “You’re right,” I say.
She throws her arm around my shoulder.
“I’m always right,” she declares, and I laugh.
Fun, right,I think. That’s what this summer is for. No more moping. I’m going to live every minute of every day to the fullest. I can do that.
Chapter Three
Sera
It rains all Sunday, keeping us in and threatening the bonfire. I’ve been reorganizing my room, unable to sit still. I moved all the furniture around, stacked my unread books by my bed, and sorted through art supplies I want to take with me to teach. I’m scrolling through Instagram artist time-lapse videos when Maddy texts. It’s cleared up enough, and everyone’s decided the bonfire is still on. I’m both relieved and nervous. Even though I’ve been okay since January, I finished school from home and haven’t been to any parties in almost two years. I rush to get ready, popping into Abbi’s room with my hair still wet from the shower to ask if Cam will be here in time to drive us.
“Probably not.” She’s lying on the floor listening to a science podcast. Something about volcanoes. Her toenails are freshly painted, and the smell is still in the air even with her windowpropped open. “We’ll just take Dad’s car, andyou’lldrive us home.” She tips her head back and looks me up and down. “Is that what you’re wearing?”
I’d slipped on jeans and the Olivia Rodrigo concert T-shirt I dyed myself three years ago.
“Come on.” She tugs me back down the hall to my room, shoves me toward my closet, and takes the window seat, peering through the curtains at Luke’s house. “Show me something that doesn’t also double as painting clothes, workout clothes, or pajamas.”
My closet is honestly a little bare. Comfort clothing is all I’ve been bothering with for the last couple of years, and I haven’t done a refresh since I’ve gotten better. Everything from two summers ago is too small, kind of childish.
“Can I at least keep the jeans?”
“Yes, but then you need a tank top or a cuter shirt and a jacket. Do you still have that green one? And what are you doing with your hair? Makeup?”
I sigh again. My hair has always been a bit lackluster compared with Abbi’s, even though I like how long it is. “Probably just letting it dry. No makeup.” When Abbi does my makeup, it takes an hour.
“I’ll blow it out.” Abbi goes out to the bathroom and comes back with some products and the blow-dry brush, which, though old, isn’t rusty yet from the Cape humidity. I pick out a few tank tops that still mostly fit, and she points to a cropped orange one. I change my T-shirt out for it and sit on the bench in front of my wicker vanity.
“So”—Abbi moves into interrogation mode—“who are you seeing tonight?”
“Maddy, the volleyball girls, maybe some other friends from camp if they’re there.”
Abbi nods, her eyes focused. “And the evening’s goal?”
“Do I need to have a goal?” I laugh, then cringe as she pulls a little hard.
“Any situation you enter without a goal leaves you two steps behind. Opportunity wasted.” Abbi doesn’t like to do just one thing at a time. She thinks life is best when you’re operating at hyperspeed.
