Summer and May

Chapter Twenty-Three: May

I packed an overnight bag, which was a fourth of the size of Summer's. The drive to Brooks' lake house was an hour long, jam-packed with talks about the rest of the summer, and Jeremy, and Brown. Summer had big plans for our dorm room; the color scheme, the shower caddies, the matching bed spreads. I wanted so badly to tell her that I was off the waitlist, but now didn't seem like the right time. That conversation wouldn't simply be about my acceptance to Brown, but so much more. I had no idea how it would go, and that scared me.

Summer spent another chunk of the car ride convincing me to take my own advice, regarding Brooks. To be open, be honest. I had no credibility giving that advice, since I was practically living in my own unshared truth. The last fifteen minutes, we blared music and sang until our anxieties were freed. It was a refreshing way to pull up the gravel lot, with Brooks and the rest of the guys carrying kegs into the garage.

Brooks looked undeniably handsome. He always did, but I was trying to see him in a new light. This weekend had the potential to be something great, and once his eyes caught mine, I instantly knew he was thinking about the same thing. His enormous arms wrapped around me, picking me up and spinning me in a circle.

"Let's have a good weekend." He offered, smiling down at me. He threw his ball cap onto my head, chuckling as he returned to the beer. Summer giggled into my ear as I reversed the hat. I tried jumping in to help the boys, but they insisted that me and the rest of the girls go enjoy ourselves. I slid into my bikini, resorting to the hot tub in minutes. Summer followed just after with a tray full of margaritas.

"Ladies," she offered, slipping flawlessly into the tub. "cheers to the weekend."

With the clink of my glass, so many worries began melting away with the suds around me. The girls asked us about Jeremy, and even Brooks, but I didn't concern myself with formulating a perfect answer. Instead, I enjoyed the evergreen trees swaying, the smile Brooks was giving me from across the lawn, and the mix of tequila and lime in my hand.

An hour later, it was my turn to make a round of drinks. I wrapped my waist in a mesh cover-up, traipsing into the kitchen. I was no bartender, but on my seventeenth birthday, my dad taught me a secret to making the best Manhattan. I wasn't positive that the girls would like it, but they were three margaritas deep; I'm not sure how much they cared. I scoured the kitchen and the bar room for all the necessary materials, and began mixing.

My soaked hair was dripping into my drinks, so I secured it with a clip. I nearly dropped the piece of plastic when I saw Jeremy, arms loaded with grocery bags, in the next room.

"You scared me!" I exclaimed, clutching my chest.

He apologized, setting the bags down. They were full of beer, chips, and a few random items of clothing. When I walked around the kitchen island, his eyes scanned me from head to toe.

"Hi," he finally muttered, snapping himself back into reality. Was he checking me out?

"Hi." I said back, returning to the drinks. I poured four drinks, topping them all with maraschino cherries. I enjoyed my handiwork, taking a sip. "Want one?"

He approached me slowly, like he was treading on ice. "Sure."

"You can have this one. Summer won't like this, anyways. I'll pour her something else."

He even grabbed the glass carefully. I acted oblivious, heading to the fridge to look for wine. He was saying nothing, which I found to be odd, but tried not to think much of it.

"Are you okay?" I finally ask.

He gulped his drink, smoothing his features.

"Yeah. Why?"

I eyed him. "You're just quiet. Do you not like the drink? I can..."

He approached the other side of the counter, much closer to me now than he was moments ago. I nearly knocked myself into his glass.

"It's great. You're great. I..." He was visibly stumbling on his words. Was it the bikini? Was he nervous to see Summer? "May, there's something I..."

He stopped himself, leaving me hanging by a few fingers off the edge of a cliff. What was he trying to tell me? He gathered himself, staring down at me. Once our eyes locked, he read something in my expression that kept him from saying whatever was on his mind.

"I should probably go find Summer, huh?"

I pointed to the back door, completely lost by this conversation. "She's on the deck."

My eyes followed him as I tried to decode his body language. He looked almost rigid in my presence, but when Summer stood up in the hot tub to kiss his cheek, I couldn't decide if his posture had changed or not. I was thinking too much about it, so I followed him outside with a tray of drinks.

"Three Manhattans, and one rosé for Summer." I grin.

"Jeremy, how does it taste? Do you think I'll like it?" Summer reached for Jeremy's glass. He handed it to her anyways, although he was shaking his head.

Summer took one baby sip before her face turned sour. "That's... nice."

"That's why I poured you wine, Sum. I didn't like it my first few sips, either." I said in attempt to make her feel better.

Brooks appeared from the deck stairs, settling his eyes on me. He gently grabbed the glass from my hands, welcoming himself to a sip.

"You've outdone yourself, May."

I chuckled into my glass. Summer's expression had turned back to a hidden grin. Jeremy was staring a hole into Brooks' head. What the hell was going on?

The next few hours were blurry, to say the least. I thought I was going to melt if I stayed in the hot tub any longer, so I retreated to a chair by the fire.

From what I remember, we swam in the lake, jumped on the water trampoline, and swam again. Brooks was by my side for all of it, and Summer and Jeremy were off somewhere else.

When I awoke, my head throbbing, a burly arm was buried beneath my head, dangling off the couch. I slowly rose, terrified to see who was behind me, wrapped up in this blanket with me. What had I done last night?