Remembering Summer

Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO

"So your dad seems...nice." I search for words as Summer walks through her new house.

"Cut the crap. I hate him and you don't have to pretend he didn't make you feel awkward too." I'm surprised by her words. How can you just hate your dad and tell someone you just met that you do?

"It wasn't crap. But why do you hate him?" I'm prying, I know I am. But that's one of the faults that I can't seem to undo about myself. She turns to face me and I almost run into her.

"Why the hell should I tell a random stranger that?" She says it seriously but the smile playing on her lips tell me she's joking.

"Because you seem pretty open on the fact that you hate him, so I assumed you'd be open on why."

"You really shouldn't assume things." I smile at her words. She sounds like my mother.

I look around and stand awkwardly in the doorway of what was once an empty room. It's now filled with things unloaded from the truck. Summer seems to notice and she speaks again.

"You wanna get out of here? We've unloaded a lot today, it's almost 7."

"Where to?"

"I passed a little park on the way here. We could walk there. It'd be better than standing around." I knew exactly which park she was talking about. My mom always took me there when I was seven. I loved it there. One day she just...stopped taking me.

"Yeah. I know the way." She follows me out the door and past her dad and my mom.

"Where you guys going?" my mom asks.

"The park," Summer calls.

"Be safe!" Summer laughs a little at her dads words.

"I never am," she mutters.

By the time we get to the park, Summer is shivering. I don't understand how she's cold, it's summer and this is warm. Maybe it's just warm to me because of my hoodie. I debate in my mind whether or not I should do this.

"Here," I slide my jacket off my shoulders and hand it to her. She eyes it like I'm a bit crazy, and I'm nervous she's gonna reject it. But then a gust of wind forces it's way to us and she clutches the hoodie, pulling it up her trembling arms.

"Thanks," she mutters, pulling her hair out from underneath the hood.

"I don't understand how you're cold right now," I chuckle.

"You've lived here your whole life, haven't you?" she asks. I nod. I have. I was born and raised right here in North Carolina. I've never even been out of the state. No class trips or amazing adventures had shoved me out of the border. Part of me hated that, but another part loved the familiarity of knowing your neighbors and never being the new kid. Part of me wanted out of this little town. I was planning my escape already. As soon as this next year was over, I was taking a car and a duffel bag full of my crap and leaving. Nothing could stop me.

"That explains it. I came here from California. It's nicer and a lot hotter than this. I could ask you how you're not freezing right now."

"Adaptation." I grin as she laughs a bit. We finally arrive at the kiddy park and she runs up to the swing set, laughing like a 5 year old at recess. I shake my head and shove my hands in the pockets of my jeans, chuckling.

By the time I get to the playground, she's already swinging pretty high.

"Oh I miss the days where I got this every day! Three recesses was always amazing and being shoved back down to only one sucks." I squint up at her and she sticks her tongue out at me.

"Has anyone ever told you that you behave like a little kid?"

"Has anyone ever told you that you try way too hard to seem cool?" she retaliates. That's happened before, but no way in hell am I letting her know that. I say silent as she pushes herself higher on the swings.

The creaking of the rusty old swing set fills the park and I quickly take a seat on the swing next to her. I play with the pebbles by dipping my Vans into them and flicking.

"How old is this playground?" she asks. She's starting to stand up, slowly pulling on the chains. They creak more.

"Longer than I've been on this earth. It wasn't too shiny when I first played here."

"Played?" her voice is teasing and I'm noticing how unstable the connecting hook looks on the chain and wood.

"Summer, I don't think..."

"Oh c'mon don't ruin this fun for me. I haven't been able to just hang out in ages." Im nervous but I shut up. She's finally standing up, her shorts about at eye level with me. I turn my head and she laughs.

"Are you gay?" I look up at her surprised.

"Wh-what?" I stutter.

"You've got your eyes right in front of my ass and you look away. Look if you play for the other team that's fi-." Her words are cut off by the sound of metal snapping, pebbles crunching and Summer throwing out a painful profanity. I shove myself off of the swing and go to help her out.

"Damn it, I told you it wasn't stable."

"Bullshit. You never said that!" Her thigh is bleeding and her hands are scraped. She's lucky she didn't break anything, the way she was falling made it look like she was about to. I lift her up and start to carry her towards the bench.

"No I'm fine," she starts to shove but when she turns her leg wrong she winces and stops. I place her down on the wood and hope it's clean. The last thing she needs right now is to get an infection.

"Lift your leg."

"Well aren't you blunt," she remarks, but lifts her leg up anyway. The skin is torn and a few pebbles are stuck to her thigh cause of the blood. It doesn't look deep, but it looks painful.

"That looks like it's gonna hurt like a bitch for a couple days."

"Fuck," she mutters. She lays back on the bench and suddenly I feel awkward. Her leg is sill bleeding and I know if I don't stop she's gonna lose a good amount of blood. Not enough to harm her, but she'd feel a bit woozy. I rip a bit of my tee shirt and tie it around her knee quickly.

Her head perks up and she watches me wrap her leg. Goosebumps are forming and the awkwardness of the situation increases. I've never honestly been this flustered and this new girl was making me feel unsteady. I realized that if anybody looked at us that it would appear we were doing some things that seventeen year olds shouldn't be doing at all, let alone in a public park. I stand up as soon as she has her makeshift bandaid finished.

"Thanks." I nod in response. She's looking at me weirdly, probably sill thinking I'm gay cause I wasn't staring at her ass or trying to take advantage of her. She sits up slowly and looks at where I ripped my shirt.

"I hope that wasn't a special shirt," she says quietly. This is different than her little remarks or snippy comments. Usually those are sarcastic but her voice sounds embarrassed.

"It really wasn't." It wasn't honestly but the way I said it made it seem like I was lying on her behalf. She cringes and mumbles another sorry. I nod and lift her up.

"C'mon. I'm not carrying you home. You're fine now." She feigns falling down again and I laugh. Something in my stomach stirs and I pray I'm not about to throw up from looking at the blood. But it wasn't that kind of sensation. This felt different. This felt good.