Page 1 of The Summer We Lie

Chapter One

Skye

"So this guy requested that I shove my desserts up my—pussy," Harper says, and I spit my coffee out and begin choking on it.

She just laughs then pats my back, her green eyes sparkling with amusement. "I know, crazy, but I can't tell you how common it is. People love combining sex and food," she continues, casually dropping this bomb like she's talking about the weather. "You'd be surprised what fetishes are out there. Food play is actually pretty tame compared to some requests."

After I'm done dying, I clear my throat, still feeling the burn in my nasal passages. "Well, did you?" I ask, both horrified and morbidly curious.

"Of course I did, girl! He paid me ten thousand for the private session, plus it sounded fun." she says with a shameless grin, and I laugh again, shaking my head. "The cupcake was still warm too. Made for quite the sensation."

Harper has been my best friend since she moved to our small town in Pennsylvania in sixth grade. She's one of the only girl friends I've had. I don't like a lot of people, and most of my friends are guys, but she won me over—or perhaps it's because she decided we were friends and never let it go. Her confidence is magnetic even now, as it was back then when we were awkward preteens. She's so fun and beautiful with her fiery red hair and freckles scattered across her face like constellations. I love her and wish I could be as carefree and confident as her, never second-guessing herself like I constantly do.

She started working as a cam girl on Good Girl Gone Live when she turned 18, and not long after, she convinced me to set up an account also. But I don't do as much on my account as she does. She bakes in the nude for live shows and does one-on-ones, building a devoted following who tune in to watch her create pastries while completely naked. Meanwhile, I hide behind heavy makeup and a wig, too scared to show my real self to the world.

My phone vibrates on the table in front of me, the screen lighting up with Mom's face.

"Tell Mom I said hi," Harper says as I answer the phone.

"Hey, Mom," I say, giving Harper a look. She winks at me and takes a sip of her coffee, her red hair falling over her shoulder in perfect waves.

"Skye, honey, are you alright? You sound strange."

"I'm fine," I clear my throat. "Just swallowed wrong. What's up?"

"I need a big favor," she says, her voice tight with that familiar maternal strain.

"Okay," I say, taking another sip of my coffee, already mentally rearranging my plans for the evening.

"When you come by, can you grab Justin's sketch book from your dad on the way? Your dad has to work late and Justin left it in his car this morning. He's already texted us about it a few times," she explains, the weariness evident in her voice. Justin without his sketchbook is like a ticking time bomb—his main source of comfort when the world gets too overwhelming.

"Yeah, sure. I can grab it when I leave the coffee shop in a minute," I tell her, already calculating how much time the detour would add. Dad's work isn't far, but parking is always a nightmare.

"You're a lifesaver. I owe you," she says with genuine relief.

"You can pay me in food," I reply, only half-joking. Between classes, work, and helping with Justin, grabbing proper meals often falls to the bottom of my priority list.

"Well, I'm making you dinner tonight already."

"Then I guess we're square," I say with a laugh.

She laughs too, the tension leaving her voice. "Are you with Harper?"

"Yeah, we met after our last classes for coffee. She says hi, by the way." I glance at Harper, who's scrolling through her phone, probably checking her Good Girl messages.

"Tell her I said hi and she needs to come for dinner soon," Mom says, and I can hear the genuine affection in her voice. My mom has always had a soft spot for Harper.

"I will. I'll see you later. Love you."

"Love you, Mom!" Harper yells into my phone, leaning across the table with a grin.

Mom laughs. "Tell her I love her too. Bye, Hun."

"Bye," I say and hang up the phone. "Mom said she loves you too," I tell Harper, tucking my phone back into my bag.

She's always gotten along great with my family. Justin even likes her, and he doesn't like many people. Something about Harper's directness works for him—she never expects him to pick up on social cues he can't read, and she answers his blunt questions without getting offended.

"Your mom is the sweetest," Harper says, draining the last of her fancy latte. "So, issues with Justin's sketchbook?"