“What do you mean there’s no cake?”
“Exactly that,” I reply, choosing to ignore the puppy-dog expression on his face in favour of trying not to fall down the cliff path. It’s as tricky going up as it was going down, the loose rocks making themselves known only as I step on them.
“What is with you and cake?” Charlie calls over his shoulder. It’s alright for him: whilst he gallivants off ahead with the sure footing of a mountain goat, I lag behind in my poorly chosen footwear (cheap flip-flops) and general clumsiness. I feel sorry for Lucas, who’s ended up stuck behind me.
On the other hand, he’s seriously getting on my nerves. Longer legs equal bigger strides, so he’s practically walking on top of me. In fact, the only reason he hasn’t overtaken me is because the path is so narrow. Finally I can’t stand it. I go to turn around, my mouth opening to form something along the lines of “do you mind?”
I don’t quite get there. In fact, I only manage the “do” part before he walks smack into me, knocking me over. Reaching out to stop my fall, I grab the soft fabric of his shirt, which of course is a bad idea. The momentum of my fall pulls him down with me, and so we lie sprawled on the rough floor. What feels like twenty million rocks are pressed into my bare legs and back, and his elbow is jabbed into my stomach.
“Ow,” I mutter, trying to push myself up.
“You’re telling me.” He replies, rolling off me and onto his stomach.
“You actually are joking!” I stare at him in disbelief. “I totally cushioned your fall!”
“No, you ‘totally’ didn’t,” he mimics me, making air quotes around the word totally. I flush a bit at that, it did make me sound slightly dumb. “Besides, I wouldn’t have fell if you hadn’t pulled me down with you!”
“Details,” I huff, waving my hand about vaguely. “You gonna help me up?”
“I’m not even standing myself!” He retorts, but scrambles to his feet before extending a hand to me.
“Thanks,” I say, before hopping to my feet. “But no thanks,” Grinning; I jog over to Charlie as fast as I can without falling over again. The path is less rocky now, grass and clumps of dandelions sprouting from in between the sand coloured stone. Hearing the echo of footsteps behind me, I turn in time to catch Lucas giving me cross-eyes.
“Attractive,” I inform him, to which he un-crosses his eyes only to roll them.
“Whatever Trevor,”
“That’s not my name,” I say in a sing-song tone, prompting him to laugh.
“Yeah, but maybe it should be. We’ve been friends since we were kids, but I haven’t been able to come up with a nickname for you.” He muses, falling into step beside me. He’s doing that annoying thing where he matches his steps perfectly in time with mine.
“Well, Autumn’s hard to shorten.” I reply, doing a little hop mid-stride so that I’m leading with the other leg. “But so’s Lucas, so…”
“Luke?” He points out, copying my hop to match our steps again. I scowl at him, both for the irritating step thing and the obvious nickname I overlooked, which brings on an innocent smile in return. “Do you have a middle name?”
“No!” I quickly cut in, which is of course the moment Charlie chooses to join us. Seeing our step-synchronisation, he alters his stride to suit ours.
“Yeah, you do.” He taunts, grinning evilly.
“Don’t you dare!” I snap shooting him a look that suggests it would be wise for his health if he keeps this one quiet.
“No, go on Charlie. I want to hear this,” Lucas encourages. I stop dead, shaking my head.
You see, the name Autumn is bad enough. But my middle name…well, it proves that my parents shouldn’t be in charge of something as important and permanent as, say, naming a child.
“Don’t tell him Charlie, unless you want him to find out your middle names.” I threaten. To my relief it works, and Charlie immediately pales.
“You wouldn’t!” He gasps.
“I would.” I try to keep my face as straight as I can, though it’s tempting to laugh at my brother’s dramatics.
“Hang on, hang on. You mean middle names, as in…plural?” Lucas laughs. “You have to tell me now!”
“Never!” I hiss.
“We don’t speak of the middle names.” Charlie adds.
“Come on, I’ll tell you mine.” Lucas bargains, trying – and failing – to conceal the grin that’s spreading across his face.
“I bet yours is something normal.” I complain, but I can’t help feeling a little curious.
“Fine: I’ll tell you mine, if you promise to tell me yours.” He says, extending his arms out as if displaying his deal as a tangible thing. “Deal or no deal.”
I shake my head. “No deal,”
He pauses for a second whilst he considers this. Then, crashing to his knees, he literally proceeds to beg at my feet.
“Please, please pretty please cherry on top and all that jazz tell me your middle name, or else this shall haunt me forever and my dying words will be ‘Hmm, I wonder what Autumn’s middle name was?’”
All I do is look at him.
“Seriously?” I say, disbelief colouring my tone. He gives me the most ridiculous puppy-dog face ever: exaggerated pout, eyes wide as dinner plates and eyebrows scrunched up, forming a crinkle that can only be described as cute on his forehead.
“Deadly seriously.”
“That doesn’t even make sense…” I sigh, but I feel myself caving. “Alright, fine.”
“I knew you’d see it my way,” He says, putting on an accent that makes him sound like an over-the-top villain from a crap TV show. Climbing not so gracefully to his feet, he sticks out his hand, like he wants me to shake it. “Lucas Solomon Winther.”
“Solomon?” I ask, surprised at how casually he can announce this.
“Yeah, after my great-granddad.” He shrugs. “Your turn,”
“No. No way. Yours is normal!” I protest.
“But we had a deal!” He complains.
“Yeah, and you should never back down from a deal: Autumn Blossom Lieberman.” Charlie decides to cut in.
Charlie’s a dead man.
“Your name is Autumn Blossom?” Lucas smirks, his tone incredulous.
“…Yes.” I admit, under my breath. You can see why this is embarrassing, considering the fact that I sound like I belong in a Barbie film.
By this point Lucas has already dissolved into laughter. I turn to face Charlie, who is looking pleased with himself for one-upping me. I smile sweetly at him. This puts him on guard, and he immediately guesses my plan.
“You wouldn’t!” He yells, eyes fearful.
“You did, Charlie Lucifer Atreyu Lieberman.” I smirk, satisfaction seeping through my words.
I can still hear Lucas’s laughter as Charlie chases me to the tent.
YOU ARE READING
The Almost Summer
Humor[ completed - 17/3/14 ] [ undergoing slight editing ] [ Wattyawards2014 ] [ featured on the Wattpad Official account's Summer Beach Reads list ] Autumn always knew she was named after the wrong season. She lives for the summer months, desperate f...
