One Summer

Chapter 1

“Are you packed yet?” Chris asked, as he bounded into my room.

“Yes?” I offered. 

HIs eyes rested on the empty suitcase that was lying at my feet and raised his right brow.

“Yeah, it sure looks like it.”

“I’ll get it done before tomorrow,” I promised. Tomorrow my family and I were heading to the beach house for the summer. It was a family tradition that happened every year since my parents had decided to emigrate to the States 11 years ago. 

“You usually finish packing weeks ago. What’s wrong?” he asked, putting his concerned older brother hat on. 

This was true. Every year, before the start of the summer, Mum would take Chris and I on a shopping spree to get a whole new wardrobe for the summer. Every year, my newly bought wardrobe would go straight into my suitcase ready for when the day came. This year however, my newly bought wardrobe was still sat in numerous bags, which were strewn around my bedroom. I sighed, shrugging my shoulders. 

“You know it’s going to be fun right?” Chris asked excitedly. “We will do everything we normally do. Jet ski races, beach parties, sleeping by the lake, barbeques, proving to Alex and Chase that we’re better than them at-“ He abruptly stopped talking. “Ah. It’s because of Chase isn’t it?”

My stomach dropped slightly at the mention of his name. 

“What’s because of him?” I asked, feigning confusion. 

He rolled his eyes and looked at me as if I was stupid. “The reason this,” he nudged the empty suitcase with his foot, “is still empty.”

“No,” I lied. Of course Chris saw straight through it. 

“Are you seriously going to let one silly argument ruin this summer for you? It was a year ago, let it go already.” 

“If only it was that simple,” I muttered under my breath. 

“Lex, it is that simple. It was last year, an entirely different chapter. A chapter that finished with that summer. You need to let it go, and concentrate on writing this chapter.” 

“Last summer ended on such bad terms though. He left halfway through the holiday. I can’t pretend that nothing happened, it’s not that easy Chris,” I sighed. 

“So talk to him and make it right,” he urged, throwing an arm around my slim shoulders. “Listen, I know I don’t know everything that went on between you two, but is it really worth throwing away 10 years of friendship? Just talk to him. If nothing changes, at least you tried.”

“You’re so annoying when you’re right,” I sighed, elbowing him in his ribs. 

He ruffled my hair as he smirked at me. “I’m always right.”

“In your dreams Christopher,” I scoffed, fixing my hair. I was the only person he allowed to call him Christopher. Everyone else called him Chris, or some nickname that had been devised at some point in his high school life. 

“So, do you need some help packing?” he asked, standing up and pulling me up with him. 

“Yes!”

“Hmm, maybe next time Squirt,” he said, as he turned on his heel and left the room. 

“Jerk!” I yelled after him. I heard his chuckle as he descended the stairs. 

Chris and I had a close relationship. When we first moved from our seaside home in England to Chicago, USA, I was 7 and Chris was 8. We had to rely a lot on each other for the first few months after our move, and over the years, our close bond never faltered. Sure he gets on my last nerve sometimes, but I can never stay mad at him for long, especially when he knows that ice cream is my weakness. Our parents decided to move to the States for better job opportunities. Mum was a history teacher back in England, but her passion was American history, so she convinced Dad to move to America. Not that he minded. He was a maths teacher, and like he says, ‘numbers are the same in every country’. Having a maths teacher as a parent might sound ideal, but I hate maths. Reading books and writing essays beats doing trigonometry, hence why my favourite subjects were English Literature and History. 

I placed my iPod in the panda shaped speakers my best friend, Casey, bought me for Christmas last year, and pressed shuffle. Immediately the opening bars of Mohombi's Addicted filled the room. Getting to work, I rounded up all the shopping bags full of the latest summer trends and emptied them onto my double bed. I pulled out a light summer dress and a bikini, leaving them to one side. They would go in last so that I could get changed easily when we arrived at the Beach House. 
When my cell phone rang an hour and a half later, my packing was done. Following the sound of the ringing, I threw aside the endless pile of cushions that were littered on my bed, finally locating my cell.