Summer and May

Chapter Twenty-One: May

For the rest of the week, Summer and I spent every day together. A few tan lines, book talks, and kayak trips later, I was nearly spent. My birthday was in two weeks, and Summer already had a party planned in my honor. The only thing she allowed me to decide on was the cake flavor, which she already knew; red velvet with her homemade buttercream frosting. I wasn't the biggest fan of birthdays, but Summer always made a spectacle of them. She made birthdays fun, and allowed me to feel like a queen every single year.

Summer kept me caught up on her dates with Jeremy, but I kept a lid on the fact that I was fixing Sully's car tomorrow night. I wasn't keeping it a secret; I would absolutely let her know. It was no more than one friend helping another friend. I just needed the right words to describe the situation to her. Summer was always one step ahead of me, and she knows when I'm keeping things from her, even if it's something harmless. It isn't in Summer's nature to hold anything back.

"We're having fun together, but I sort of hit a wall with conversation. We don't really like the same things. I really like him, but I don't like anything he likes!" She sighed. "Sometimes, I think the only thing we have in common is that we like to make out."

"Have you tried talking about, I don't know... life, instead of kissing?" I chuckle. Summer's cheeks turned red.

"Of course. We sort of, kind of talked about our intentions, but it was a little unclear. I wasn't willing to spill my guts to him, and I'm not even sure he's on the same page as me. We start to talk, but we get... distracted. It just so happens that our longest conversations don't require words." She sticks a tongue out at me, returning to her closet.

"I don't know, Sum. You know more about him than most people in this town. Just be genuine with him. Don't play any games, just be straight up."

She rolled her eyes, groaning. "I knooooow," she cooed. "I'm just so good at it. I almost don't know how to be normal."

I march over to her, shooting her a look. "Listen, Jeremy's a gentleman. I know you're not used to that, but guys like him don't like head games. Try letting him see the real you. Be honest and open."

She crinkled her nose. "I tried that once. Didn't work out too well."

"We're seventeen." I drone. "There are other guys out there."

"Says you!" She teased, finally deciding on an outfit. She was heading to the nicest restaurant in town with her family tonight, which also happened to be one of her favorites.

"Listen, um... speaking of guys, I have to ask you about something."

She swiveled around, grinning like a Cheshire Cat. "About Brooks? Because this weekend is your prime opportunity."

"No, Jeremy, actually." Her face became serious in an instant. She sat at the edge of her bed, waiting for my explanation. "He came by Dockside the other night to grab food for him and Sully. Then he needed to go to the auto store, and consequently so did I, so we headed over there together. Poor man knows nothing about cars. So I helped him, and offered to install the parts for him. He asked if I could do it tomorrow."

She took several seconds to respond. I was beginning to worry she'd frozen in place. "I'm curious to see what the question is here." She pointed around, talking with her hands like she did so often. "Are you asking my permission to fix his car?"

"I guess so, yeah."

She was frozen for another moment, then burst into a cackle. "Marjorie Everett, you need to stop being so damn polite! Why the hell would you need my permission to do what you do best? You can be friends with him too, you know!"