The Last Summer

Juliet

As the three of us travel down Pacific Avenue we occasionally stop in front of a store and look at it before passing. By the time we’ve finished our ice cream, only slightly regretting it, we’ve bumped into Isabelle, Ruby, and Cameron who just got back from a thrift store laughing at something that happened and almost went into a hat store before passing.

“Hey another bookstore.” Sofia says. “Could be more up our alley than the last one.”

I shrug and we head inside. I take a deep breath and smile. It sounds weird, I know, but sometimes bookstores just smell amazing. The three of us split up again and head into different sections. I don’t know which sections Cara and Sofia went to, but I headed straight for the Young Adult section. I see a few new releases and some look interesting enough. I find one about a group of teenage girls training to be spies that looks good enough. The writing style is very different from what I’m used to, but I guess I can look past that for the sake of the plot and characters.

Just I’m wondering how I’ll meet up with Cara and Sofia in this large of a store I hear a gasp that could also double as a choking sound and rush over to the direction of the noise and see Sofia giving Cara a weird look as Cara smiles and laughs.

“Sorry.” Cara says as Sofia relaxes. “I just saw this book and memories came flooding back.” She holds up a book without the cover but a purple outside. I feel as though I know that book.

“Gonna need a little more than that.” I say.

Cara sighs and opens the book to reveal a bright orange paper lining on the inside before the title page and I lightly slap my head.

“How did I not notice that?” I say with a laugh.

The book was the final installment of a series we read throughout middle school and high school. To be perfectly honest I’m sure I had cried in the last few chapters. I know some of the others in the Group who read it did. I smile as I take it and open it up.

“Why is the cover off?” I ask flipping through the pages.

“Not sure.” Cara says. “Sofia says it isn’t a used bookstore-”

“If it was this would not be in mint condition.” Sofia interrupts holding up a thick leather bound book that could be mistaken for the Bible if at a distance.

“So it should have it’s cover.” Cara finishes as if Sofia hadn't spoken. “I don’t know why it doesn’t.”

I shrug as I put the book back on the shelf.

“What’s this one?” Sofia asks pointing at the one I have tucked under my arm.

“Oh.” I say pulling it out and turning it over once or twice. “I’m not sure. It’s a few years old from what the cover says and I thought it looked interesting.”

“Alright.” Sofia shrugs as we head over to the register. “What other stores should we go to?”

“Not sure.” I say. “Cara?”

“I don’t care.” Cara says as her books are being ringed up. “I’m not one for shopping remember?”

I nod. The Group wasn’t exactly like most of the groups of girls we’d seen growing up. We didn’t live for shopping, but it was alright if we could goof off and be as much as our ridiculous selves as we could. We spent most of our time relaxing by just hanging out with each other or reading. But that wasn’t to say everyone in the Group loved reading. Some of the others couldn’t stand it. We all had similar interests, then there were things one person liked that someone else would be confused just hearing a sentence about it. Actually, the more I think about it the more I realize how weird we all are. Like we can all  love the same things so much and then be at each others throats about another topic. Ruby’s not wrong when she says that we’d probably all kill each other if we spent too much time together.

“How about something that we’d never go into normally.” I suggest. “Like something we’d never see back in El Dorado Hills.”

“Maybe.” Sofia says as her book gets ringed up. “What kind of stores are you thinking of?”

“I’m not sure.” I say as I pay for my books. “Just something totally out there and nothing like us.”

“Why not?” Cara says. “We could act all sketchy and stuff.”

“Cara,” I almost laugh as she jumps up and down, “for the millionth time, you’re not sketchy.”