Summer and May

Chapter Sixty-One: May

My finger hovered over the Call button, a goofy picture of Summer as a little kid staring back at me. My best friend had just recently left on a plane, having the time of her life with sorority recruitment on the opposite end of the country. It would be selfish to call her.

But I needed her. Now, more than ever.

The phone rang relentlessly. I counted the dial tones to keep from crying, but when I finally heard her recorded voice saying leave a message, ttyl, the tears were involuntary. I'd been crying so much lately, and everywhere--at the breakfast table, at work, sending Brooks off to USC, intentionally withholding my news. It was the last thing my friends needed to hear as they started their new lives.

The inner monologue that rang in my ears all day long was that this isn't a death sentence. This isn't a cancer diagnosis. But none of it helped, none of it eased my worries. Not even visiting Mom's grave could take this anxiety away.

Meticulously, I made my bed that I'd barely left in the last two weeks, besides my extra shifts at work. Keeping myself busy helped a little. I swear I was imagining things when my phone began to buzz, from somewhere in my heap of blankets. I tossed them around my room to get to the source, letting out a gust of air when Summer's face lit up my phone screen.

"Sum?" I say desperately, the background crinkly from whatever she was doing.

She said nothing. I heard a door open rushedly and then close, her breath heavy as I imaged her pacing down a hallway to a quieter place. "What's wrong?"

Now that I had her, could hear her voice... I had no clue what to say. Just being on the line with her brought me comfort.

"May," she cut. I tried to breathe, but just sobbed instead. I'd never come to her like this; a complete and utter wreck--because I never got this way. I never allowed it. "Talk to me."

"He's gone," I manage, but it's through tears and a high-pitch wail, so she asks me to repeat myself. "He's gone and it's my fault, and I have the gene, Summer. I have the gene. And I told him to go. And he did. And I hate it. And I miss him. And my mom. And the gene? What if I end up like her? I'm scared. I don't want it. I don't..."

I was sobbing. I know she couldn't understand a single thing I said. I could only hear her shaky breath, crying with me. She let me cry, and yell, and breathe, and yell some more. Almost fifteen minutes had passed by once I finally took a breath, silence filling the speaker.

"Oh, May." She spoke, quietly. Summer Hathaway never had quiet moments. If she did, it was dire. I nodded, although she couldn't see. I'd spent so much time this summer forcing myself to be alone, and all I wanted in this moment was for her to see me.

I heard her yoga breaths through the speaker. They started out shaky, until they plateaued. I hadn't realized it had gotten me to calm until I heard the steadiness in her voice. "You sent him away? Why?" Her tone is soft and concerned.

So she did understand me. Of course, she did.

"I can't ask him to s-st-stay," I sit against my bed frame, my knees pressing hard against each other. "He's just going to lose me."

"Shhhh," she cooes. It comforts me the way my mom used to.

Her yoga breaths aren't working. We're both simultaneously stifling cries through the tiny speakers in our phones. Another long pause separates us before her system works for her again.

"You don't know that." she spat pointedly, in the way her mother used to when she was in trouble. "You're too damn stubborn to let cancer-- I can't even say it," Summer admits, her tone softening.

"It's what I don't know that terrifies me." I confess, clutching the phone to my ear.

"But what you do know is that you have a boy that loves you. Look at what you two have already been through. Why are you so willing to throw that away? Think of all you could have with--"

"I can't!" I cry. "I've never imagined anything for myself, Summer! I've only ever pictured this. The ending of my story already written. Jeremy was my weakness, I... I let myself get too close. I pictured a future that we might never have."

"Might," she said strongly. "You hinge all these fears and worries over a big, fat, might. Be reasonable here, May. Think like me, just for a second." I nod again. "Sure, we expected the news. And who knows what will happen. But you know what's not logical? Pushing away the man that you love. You two are meant for each other, May. You know he won't go down without a fight. He needs you, just like I do." The last part of her speech was calm, in a whisper.

Summer had a way of revealing the truth softly, even if it made you feel like shit. It's a shame she's sticking to the world of finance. She needs to be a politician or something.

"And you're only eighteen. You don't know what will happen, or when. So chill the fuck out, and go be with him."

There she was. The Summer I know and love.

I shift my back against my bed. "That easily? What if--"

"I said chill out, May! You could be making the biggest mistake of your life if you don't get your ass up and take a risk for once." She huffed, as if that truth was harder for her to say than it was for me to hear. Through the strength in her voice, I heard a stifled cry. "I..."

"I know," I sighed. "I know."

Now it was her turn to cry. Guilt stabbed at me for telling her, for ruining what was most likely a wonderful day on campus. Part of me hoped I could keep it a secret, but I knew all too well that keeping secrets from Summer was impossible. We cried, talked, ranted, and comforted one another for over an hour, about the reality of my news and college and everything in between. 

"This has got to be the most depressing call I've ever gotten," she laughed, her nose stuffy. "But it's good to hear your voice. I miss you."

"I miss you more than I ever thought I could." I sighed, wiping my nose on the bottom of my Rolling Stones t-shirt. "I hope you're having the time of your life."

She snorted out a laugh. "I was, until you called." For the first time in a long time, I laughed. It was brief, fleeting, but it felt nice. "Anything else you need to update me on? Have you fulfilled your summer pact yet with Jeremy?"

Laughter filled the speakers again as I hugged my knees to my chest. "May I kindly remind you that the pact was your idea, not mine?"

"And?" she said dubiously.

I sighed. Talking about Jeremy in any context, but especially this one, tugged at my heartstrings in a way that hurt. I had turned him away not once, but twice. And this second time seemed final. He walked away, and I don't blame him for it. I was practically shoving him out the door, all because I'm too scared to picture life without him. How does that make any sense?

I had never loved anyone before, but from the second I saw him, I think all of me, right then and there, did. Without knowing that his grief matched mine. Without knowing that I would veer him towards my best friend, leaving us in a mess. Without knowing that he would quickly become all I could think about, all I ever wanted. 

What had I done?

"And... I think I ruined my chances."

I could nearly hear her eyes roll into the back of her head, followed by a dramatic sigh. "Then I guess I must repeat myself. Go get him, or seriously, I'll never forgive you for it."