Summer and May

Chapter Eight: Summer

"Summer, remember that one time we all snuck out of the house behind your father's back, to go smoke in the woods?" Matt, one of Luke's best friends, asked.

I laughed so hard I snorted; a tell-tale sign that I was drunk. I hadn't meant to get drunk, but Jeremy seemed comfortable, maybe up until right now. The looming presence of Luke's high-school friends that had known me for years brought a certain mood to our rendezvous. Was he jealous?

"Yep, my first time. You all should have prepared me better. I was coughing for like, ten minutes!" I turned to Jeremy, wanting to include him in the conversation. "Jere, have you ever tried weed? It's legal here, you know. I never would have tried it if it wasn't." That wasn't entirely true, but these throwback stories were painting me as a party girl.

He shook his head, ruffling a hand through his gorgeous golden hair. "No, but ask my cousins. They love it... a little too much."

Everyone laughed. A crowd pleaser, Jeremy was. The more stories Luke's friends shared, though, the quieter he got. I had the sense that he was getting jealous. Just when I thought to ask him to sneak away with me, he stood up.

"I'm gonna go slip away for a little. Network, you know." he winked at me, and I nearly puked. Probably from the combination of alcohol and butterflies.

"Bye," I gave him my best flirty wave. This was perfect; Jeremy could watch me entertain this group of guys and get a little jealous. Hopefully he could only resist staying away for so long, before he comes back and steals me away in front of Luke's older and newer buddies.

I watched as he strolled away, finding his cousins, making new friends. One of the co-eds he found was Tara Clarke, but I wasn't intimidated by her. She was gorgeous, but didn't have the patience or the experience I had. I was prepared to play the long-game with Jeremy, even though I had other options for the summer.

Tim, being one of them. Tim came to each and every party I'd ever thrown, without fail. He was the first to arrive and the last to leave. We kissed during spin the bottle sophomore year, and he hung around ever since then. I would have given him a real shot, except he was never willing to tell me how he felt. He just made moves, with no words to follow them up with.

Will, however, was not an option. He was, and forever will be, the only boy to ever break my heart. I pretended not to notice when he walked into the party, although I'd sensed his presence before actually seeing him. Our on-again off-again relationship drove me nuts all four years of high school. We were two people that should have dated, but not in the way we did. We used each other like weapons and fought like animals. And it all started in freaking art class.

I walked into Mr. Grimes' classroom the first day of ninth grade, and there was this instant connection and spark when we locked eyes. I told May, "I call dibs," and then proceeded to play hard-to-get with him all year long. At fifteen, you hear a lot of things about dating, but you don't actually know what to believe, where to start, and what to even do. Your options are limited when you can't drive anywhere. But somehow, we managed.

It started off as group dates to the movies, spending the weekends on the water, and then it turned to private conversations by the bonfire and sneaking off into the woods. Falling in love with him was exhilarating and terrifying. When he asked me to be his girlfriend at a party, yelling it over the blaring music, suddenly the adult things in life made sense. Love. Marriage. Wars. Crime. I realized then that I would do anything to make him happy, no matter how crazy.

And I did. He took my virginity three months later, and it lasted all of thirty seconds. We eventually fell into a rhythm, but I'd gained some respect from my classmates for being one of the first to lose my virginity. Then, I heard him saying things about me behind my back. About my body. When May heard about it, she punched him right in the face. I still see his broken nose whenever I look into his almond skin, his buzzed brown hair.

We broke up shortly after. It was the most heartbroken and depressed I'd ever felt. May slept at my house every night for two weeks. When summer came back around, so did Will. We never officially dated again, but we used each other for sex whenever we were bored, fought with each other with no real end, and leaned on each other like friends.

Senior year, we decided to call it quits. Not talking to him was worse than anything, and I vowed then to never fall in love until I was at least thirty. The men weren't worth it until that age, anyway. The man I'd fall for next would be successful, good-looking, and probably rich. So, my last year of high school was filled with flirting, flings, and make out sessions with all the boys I'd liked during high school, but could never have because of my addiction to Will.

Through the banter of old memories shared in the jacuzzi, I ignored Will when he tried to catch my eye. Even with the distraction of someone as devastatingly handsome as Jeremy, the pain still hadn't faded.