“It’s just a party, Abbi. Can’t my goal be to catch up with my friends?”
“Sure”—she switches hands and moves to the other side of my head—“but that feels like an easy, low-bar goal.”
“Fine, what’s your goal for the evening?” I tease her.
“Make sure Cam and my Cape friends hit it off well and experience a true moment of joy.”
“How is that different from mine?”
“It comes down to specifics, Sera.” Another sheaf of warm, now-straight hair falls against my back. “How are you going to remember tonight?”
“Right.” Abbi’s exuberance is grating on me, and I just want to be there already, away from these questions.
“Best summer ever,” she reminds me as she finishes the last section of my hair. It falls nicely around my shoulders, and I run my fingers through it, relaxing a bit. She’s being sisterly, just in her own way.
“Yes.” Healthy, happy, here. I can do specifics.
“So?”
I don’t hesitate this time. “Make sure Maddy knows how much I’ve missed her and…take a chance at something new.”
Abbi spins me around and grabs my shoulders, blue eyes practically glittering. “Yes, perfect.”
*
The bonfire is in full swing when Abbi and I arrive. We haven’t hit solstice yet, so sunset is still stretching later every night. We get there just as the last pink in the sky fades away, leaving the five or six bonfires spread down the beach to light our way from the lip of the dune. Thirds Beach is a skinny slip of land between private houses that are too far away across the salt marshes to be bothered by the town’s teens blasting music and drinking.
I pause at the edge of the sand to take off my sandals and try to catch sight of Maddy at one of the fires. Abbi is already moving toward the closest one, waving at someone.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she says over her shoulder, just as I see Maddy sprinting up the beach toward me. I squeeze her into a hug, lifting her ever so slightly until she squeals.
“Strong as ever, I see,” she says as she leads me toward the fire she came from. I recognize a few kids from town, along with people I don’t know. Northport may be small, but the thing about the Cape is that when you throw a party, every teen from Falmouth to Harwich is going to come.
“Yep.” I take a deep breath of the smoke-tinged air and pat my chest once. After surgery last fall, my doctor put me into light strength training, saying it’d be good for my heart as it recovered. “All good.”
“I’m so glad you’re back.” Maddy breaks into the circle at the fire and leans down to grab a couple of sodas from a cooler, handing me one. “I know you’ve already heard my complaints, but last summer sucked without you. No one would come to the film festival with me, and work was a drag without you stopping by. Luke was way too busy to come by on his own very much.”
I crack open the soda, then hold it out to toast to her. “Well, I’m so sorry for missing it—I’ll commit whatever crimes needed to make up for it.” Maddy snorts. “For real”—I lower the can, clicking it against hers—“I wouldn’t have made it through the last couple of years without you. Whatever you need this summer, I’m your girl. Need me to watch Marissa so you can go on a date? Rig the Fourth of July pie contest? Count me in.”
Maddy laughs and slings an arm over my shoulder. “I may take you up on the pie sabotage, but I’m taking a hiatus from dating.”
“Really? No summer romance?”
“Not this year,” she says, dropping her voice to a whisper. “The breakup is still fresh. I need some me time. What about you?” Maddy pulls me over to sit on a couple of beach chairs that have just been vacated.
I look around. I haven’t seen Luke, but I get the sense he’s here. “I don’t think so,” I say. But in the back of my head I hearmy own promise to myself,something new. “Though I’m not opposed to something,” I admit.
Maddy squeals. “I mean, Luke is still single, mostly. He’s never been serious about anyone. I bet you’d be different. I still think what went down between you two had the beginnings of something epically romantic.” She pins me with a look. “Talk to him?” Maddy’s too sweet to admit that what happened—or really, whatalmosthappened—between Luke and me meant nothing to him.
“No, terrible idea. Not Luke. Over that temporary insanity.” The lie burns a little in my throat, and I take a quick sip of my soda. “We’re not even friends anymore.”
“Fine, okay, if you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.”
We settle back into chatting with the rest of the people around the fire. Everyone fills me in on the parties I missed and tells me where they’re going to school. Two friends from art camp are going to MassArt, and we exchange numbers so we can hang out in Boston this fall. Maddy’s ex, Ella, is going to California, and we all groan and pester her for abandoning the East Coast. Most kids can’t wait to get off the Cape once they’re done with high school, and I get that. I’m ready for a change too. But I’m still jealous that they got to spend their whole lives out here. When we come down for off-season weekends and February breaks, the quiet is always so peaceful compared to the hum of summer Cape and year-round Brookline and Boston. Maybe I’ll find a job and stay here this fall, work on perfecting my landscapes. It’s an idea at least, and it sounds better than what my parents want, which is for me tostart taking a couple classes next summer before I start college full-time the following fall.
“What about you, Sera?” Ella asks.
