Cold Summer (sample chapters)

1. Harper

When I decided to move to Uncle Jasper's house permanently, I didn't think it would happen so fast, and I definitely didn't think it would actually happen. Boy, was I wrong.

It doesn't hit me until I'm staring at the house.

Not during the plane ride or when the pilot announced our descent. Not even when Uncle Jasper picked me up from the airport and we drove past miles and miles of familiar fields and driveways marked with old mailboxes.

But now that the truck has shut off and the only thing I have left to look at is the farmhouse, I can't ignore the truth: I'm back in the place where I spent my summers every year—a place filled with memories of a boy with secrets and a house I loved more than my own. But this time I'm not just visiting. This time I'm staying for good. Same girl, different life.

What the hell just happened?

I glance over at Uncle Jasper. He stares out across the field to the left, his hand still on the top of the steering wheel. His short graying hair is hidden beneath his Royals cap, the blue faded and the bill fraying around the edges.

My throat feels dry, but I ask him anyway, "Do you think this was a mistake?"

He blinks and looks over, giving me one of his rare smiles.

"People don't make mistakes," he says. "They make decisions."

"Ah, wise Uncle Jasper is at it again."

"I try my best. Come on, let's get your stuff upstairs."

He grabs my duffel bag and I follow him to the house with my backpack, leaving my biggest check-in bag in the back for later. I'm still wondering what I'm doing here. Inside, it smells like old wood and toast, just as I remember. The pictures in the hallway show past holidays, Dad and Uncle Jasper when they were young, and even some of me. I glance at Aunt Holly's empty chair before following him upstairs, noticing the afghan still draped over the back and the way the green is still that faded color.

Being in this house without her doesn't feel right. It probably never will.

I follow Uncle Jasper upstairs. He stops at the door at the end of the hall where my room looks untouched, as though nobody has been in here since I left. My clock glows green from the nightstand and my bed has a single pillow on it. The top of the dresser is bare, save for the mounted mirror on the wall above.

Uncle Jasper sets my bag on the floor, the old hardwood creaking under his weight. He looks around the room. "If you need anything, just let me know," he says. "All right?"

I only nod and stare at my comforter. The bed calls to me, whispers for me to hide away under the covers and sleep the days away until I wake up, realizing everything was a dream. I want this whole summer to be over with. When school starts up, there will be more distractions, things to take my mind off everything that's gone wrong.

Uncle Jasper pauses at the door.

"Harper?" I look up, trying not to show how I feel. "I'm really glad you're here. I know it may not seem that way, but I am."

Despite everything, I smile. "I think I am, too."

"You sure?"

"No, but it's like you said. I made a decision." Then I say, "And I actually do need something. Do you still have that extra TV that used to be in the guest room?"

He raises an eyebrow and steps back into the room. "Yes? You want it in here?"

"Yeah, it's just . . . I game."

"You game? What do you mean, like, Nintendo 64?"

I try not to laugh. "No, like Xbox. I play with other people online. And you don't have to worry about me staying up here all day—I limit myself. You still have wifi, right?"

Now he's the one who wants to laugh, but he finally shrugs and says, "Yes, I still have wifi, and I'll move the TV later tonight."

At least something will be somewhat normal.

After he leaves, I unpack my clothes, and when I go to put my sweatshirt into the third drawer, I find a picture from my last summer here, laying exactly where I left it. I never took it with me, because I felt it belonged in this house more than anywhere else. And it does. Everything about this picture is proof of how much I loved it here.

Uncle Jasper's property line borders with our neighbor's house on the other side of the woods. A river runs halfway between our houses, and that was where I found my company every summer. If it wasn't for the Jackson kids, my summers here wouldn't have been so memorable. My aunt and uncle were fun, but a kid can only hang out with grownups for so long.

The picture was taken in the yard under the oak trees, the three of us hanging off each other's shoulders, grinning like nothing could make that day better. They labeled Uncle Jasper and Aunt Holly as their Aunt and Uncle, too, since they never saw theirs and they were around enough for them to be exactly that.

I stare at Libby, and then Kale. Bryce was always doing something with school or hanging out with his older friends, so it was always just the three of us.

Looking at Kale again, even after all these years, sparks something inside. His smiling face and single dimple. And this is a picture from six years ago—I can't help but wonder what he's like now, and how much he's changed. Because my parents couldn't have any more kids after me, I hadn't known what it felt like to have siblings until I met Libby. She was the sister I never had. But Kale—I felt something entirely different about him.

He makes me look forward to the days here.

Maybe this wasn't a mistake after all.