“Everything’s fine,” I say.
Ethan raises his eyebrows. “You’re going to act like I can’t read every single one of your facial expressions?”
I look at him, his angled features shadowed by the firelight, the tiny gold hoop in his earlobe vibrating with the wind. He’s concerned, flexing his fingers in the sand, and I can tell his heart rate has picked up from how quickly his chest is rising beneath his shirt. Here is a boy who knows every single part of me, even the awful parts like how I cried hysterically in my car when Erica got a higher score than I did on the AP Gov final or how I ruined Millie’s favorite sweater with black cherries last summer or that all dairy makes me gassy and yet I still can’t stay away from the chocolate flavors at Scoop DeVille. All that and he loves me still.
Now.Now is the time to tell him the truth.
It would be so easy, in theory, to say the words.I’m not going to Cornell with you.I could tell him in one breath—that I got off the waitlist at Penn last week. That heknowshow much I want to go there and study in the political communications school. That, sure, Ithaca is far from Philadelphia, but we would find a way to work it out if we wanted to.
But I can’t say that because he would hang on to that one word.If.
He would know immediately what I’ve been trying to hide for months: that I’m not sure Idowant to find a way to make our relationship work come September.
I raise my hand to his cheek, feeling the familiar fuzz of his face, the hint of stubble on the bottom of his chin. He turns his lips to my hand, kissing my palm, then looks up at me.
“Whatever’s going on, you can tell me.”
I open my mouth, believing him. He’s never given me any reason not to. But when I think about what his face will look likewhen Idotell the truth—I’m scared; I don’t know if I want to keep this going in college; I don’t know who I am without you, and that’s not a good thing—I press my lips into a smile.
“You’re right,” I lie. “I’m nervous about my internship. First summer not working at the Club. And I want to do a good job for Mayor Cho.”
Ethan’s face brightens. “You’re going to beamazing. Lucy, you planned a mock election when we were in kindergarten.”
“Herbert the Toad was robbed.”
“You were built for the role. There’s a reason she picked you and only you out of a hundred applicants.”
I nod, hoping he believes he’s comforting me when, in truth, I know all those things myself. Have never doubted that I would be an excellent intern with Mayor Cho.
Ethan’s phone buzzes, and he looks down at the screen where I see Billy’s texted again. Ethan’s gaze lingers, and he presses his lips together.
“You wanna go?” I ask, trying not to make a face. Billy’s always felt like an ear infection I can’t get rid of. He’s been Ethan’s best friend since we were born, more because of the fact they rolled into each other at a Mommy and Me class rather than because they actually like each other. Billy’s the guy who takes a joke too far, whose sole focus is riling everyone up as much as possible, who needles you and then calls you “uptight” when you tell him to quit it.
He only became tolerable when he started dating my best friend, Erica, who insisted that he was different behind closed doors. But ever since they broke up after prom, it’s been a relief to have an excuse to pass on hanging with Billy.
“Maybe for a little,” Ethan says. “Is that terrible?”
I glance at my own phone and see a text from Erica.Oops I ended up at Billy’s party. Come?? Please???
I turn the phone around so Ethan can see the message. “Looks like tonight is going to get messy.” I scrunch up my face. “No thank you.”
Ethan nods, and I let him pull me in for a hug, as he’s done so many times, enjoy the warmth of his lips pressing down on my head. His heart rate steadies, and I calm, too, knowing I’ve played my part well enough for him not to worry. There will be no tears tonight. No conversation about my betrayal. No desperate pleas for me to change my mind. No bike rides to Billy Godwin’s party.
“You’re right,” Ethan says. “Let’s just enjoy this.”
I close my eyes and try to bepresent. The summer is long, stretched out, and we have, like Millie said, eight more Fridays together, just the six of us. Eight more weeks of bike rides down the boardwalk and ice cream cones at Scoop DeVille. We have the summer solstice party at the Club, the Fourth of July parade on Main Street, the tennis tournament where Ethan and I will crush our competitors at mixed doubles, and so many lazy days of swimming in the Sound and snuggling up in sweatshirts to search for shooting stars as they flicker over the sand.
But tonight, I can sit by the fire with Ethan and forget about what comes next. What lies I’ve already told. The ones I’m still plotting out. Tonight, I can let myself be loved for a little longer.
Sometime during all the sparklers and the buttered cobs of corn, and the parties at Billy’s house and the kegs Erica pays for with her parents’ credit card, there will be a discussion about our future. There will be unrelenting tears and cracked voices, pleading. Because this summer, I am going to break Ethan’s heart.
The Party
Midnight
Billy Godwin had thrown a lot of parties throughout his high school career, and they always started the same way: with a keg and a dream. Tonight’s keg was courtesy of Erica Richardson, the girl Billy wished he were still dating. And the dream was a new one. An ambitious one.
Tonight was the night he would get Erica back.
