The Broken Summer

Lucas: Perfect flaws

Lucas

Summer and I walked closely together, down Fifth Avenue. She held on tightly to my hand, and refused to loosen her grip. Every once in a while, she’d look up at me in admiration, and just smile. It was only a simple smile, but it sent fire through my veins, filling me with feelings of lust and desire. As we walked I focused on our hands, dangling by our sides. I watched the way our tangled fingers interlocked, and brought us together as one. In the past, touching hands had seemed like a small, insignificant romantic gesture, but in this moment it was everything. As I held Summer’s hand I held onto the passion, and  happiness I desired more than anything.

It all seemed so crazy. I’d only known Summer for a few, short hours, yet she was all I could think about. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her beautiful face, and couldn’t help but admire every small movement she made. I focused on the way her wavy brown hair bounced with every step she took, and smiled to myself. I barely knew Summer, yet I didn’t want to spend another minute away from her. Now that I’d found her, I never wanted to leave her.

Summer looked up at me again, however this time a look of worry flushed over her face. Before I could ask what was wrong, I followed her gaze to the group of guys ahead, smirking at her.
“Girl…that robe is nasty, but I’m sure you’d look a whole lot better out of it…”Remarked one of the men, his eyes running up and down Summer’s body sparking a rage within me. Just as I considered wiping the grin off his face using my fists, the reality of what he’d said sunk in. My eyes snapped down to the old, wet robe Summer had forgotten to change out of. Summer’s eyes rose from the robe, and for just a moment she stood still, looking mortified. But after a few seconds a slight smile began to slowly widen across Summer’s face, before she erupted into a fight of laughter. I laughed in tune with Summer, wrapping my arms around her, as she giggled into my chest. Summer’s body shook with silent shrieks of laughter, as I chuckled into her hair.

Summer looked up at me threw her hands up, “How did we not realize I was walking around the streets wearing a robe?” She exclaimed, still giggling.
I shrugged, “I guess we were so caught up in being with each other, we didn’t notice,”
“Maybe,” She sighed, her laughter fading. I wondered if Summer understood everything I was feeling, and if she felt the same way. I’d been so distracted by the intensity of walking hand in hand with someone who was practically a stranger, Summer’s clothes were the last thing on my mind. I couldn’t help but wonder if Summer experienced this connection as well, or if it was only me. Did Summer too tremble at the touch of my skin? Was I the only one who experienced such deep feelings of comfort and desire?

“I have to get you out of that robe,” I smiled, taking Summer’s hand once again, and dragging her into the nearest store,  which just happened to be H&M.
“Lucas, I didn’t exactly bring much money with me.” She said awkwardly, keeping her eyes focused on the racks of clothes.
“Hey, I was the one who was stupid enough to leave your clothes in the dryer, and let you leave the house in that. I’ll get your clothes,” I reasoned, leading Summer closer to the racks of clothing. Summer simply looked up at me and smiled her thank you.

“What do you think of this?” I asked, holding up a silky black dress.
“No, I don’t like black,” She said plainly, turning her back to me and continuing to search for an outfit.
“You don’t like black? I think you’re the only girl I’ve ever met who doesn’t wear black. Haven’t you heard? Black is slimming,” I teased, immediately regretting my last comment. My past girlfriends had all been super touchy, and were offended by me even mentioning their body unless it was in admiration.
Before I could apologize Summer shot back, “I am not one of those pathetic women who believe wearing a darker shade of clothing is going make them look thinner! Black is gloomy and depressing. I don’t wear black because black represents sadness and I don’t want to be sad,”

I smiled softly to myself, as I stepped out of Summer’s way and allowed her to choose her own clothes without my input. I stood near the door of the store, and admired Summer’s determination to find an outfit that expressed who she was.

*********

We left H&M after Summer had picked out an orange sundress which looked amazing on her. It was a soft, light orange similar to the colour of the jeans she had been wearing earlier.
“I love the colour of your dress. It looks perfect on you,” I admired, as we continued our walk down Fifth Avenue.
“Orange is my favorite colour,” She responded, as she pulled her buzzing phone out of her purse, and held it to her ear, “Hey Katie, what’s up?”

Summer talked on the phone for what seemed like forever, having a very in-depth conversation about the weather, which made me think she was talking in code, and perhaps I was the weather she was describing so vividly.
“Its cloudy, but the sun still seems to be shining through. Despite the clouds, it’s still a pretty day. No I don’t think there’s any chance of storm,” She giggled into the phone, giving me a cheeky grin, “We’ll be there later, bye,”
“What was that about? I’ve never heard anyone describe the weather in so much detail.” I questioned.
“Katie’s spent the whole day at work, and she was curious,” Summer lied.
“So you weren’t talking about me?”
“I most certainly was not,” She laughed, while I looked up at the sky to see there was not one cloud in sight, “Anyway, Katie’s boyfriend is having a party and I told them we’d drop by. It’s only a few blocks away. We could get a bite to eat first,”
I didn’t want to be impolite, but parties were not my scene. I usually avoided these ragging parties as much as possible. But I didn’t want to upset Summer, and I was up for a new experience, so I agreed to go, “Sounds fun,” I lied.

We found an Italian restaurant on the way to the party, and agreed to eat there. The restaurant was small, but cozy. We were seated in a private booth at the back of the building.   

“So tell me about yourself Summer. What are your interests? Hobbies? How do you like to spend your time,” I said jokingly, not expecting a very serious answer.
“Well, as you know my name is Summer,” She laughed, “I’m 18 years old. I grew up in Southern California. I enjoy shopping, and partying."
“Southern California hey?” I smirked, “I’m from New York. Born and raised,”
“Oh I could tell your from around here. It’s your turn now. Give me a run down on your life,” Summer joked.
“I too am 18. My hobbies include reading, singing, and writing music.” I said playfully. I wanted to ignore Summer’s comment, but I let my curiosity get the better of me, “Wait how could you tell I grew up in New York?”
“Honestly?” She questioned, raising her eyebrows. I nodded, and waited to hear her explanation. “Well you basically fit the stereotype of a typical New Yorker. You’re an attractive guy, and you dress as if you just walked off the set of Gossip Girl. You’ve got the whole rich, preppy look going for you, and on top of it you’re a struggling musician, who reads and writes in his spare time. New York is filled with guys like you,”

I’d never met a person who was as judgmental, and focused so much on stereotypes as Summer. It hurt that she didn’t see me as the unique, one-of-a-kind person I thought I was, but as just another walking stereotype of every other guy in New York. My heart sank…and I didn’t even know how to respond to Summer. She hadn’t meant to hurt me, but she had taken a shot at my ego.

“I’m not a stereotype,” I responded, looking up from the table to meet her eyes, “I like music, and books, and writing, but that’s not all I am. I’m not even a musician, I just enjoy music. There’s more to a person than what’s on the surface. You need to stop making so many snap judgments of me, Summer. You barely know me,” My eyes stayed on Summer, focused on her reaction to what I’d said. Her eyes sunk to the table, and her hand rose to her forehead in frustration.
“Your right. I just get so caught up in looks and appearance I make judgments too quickly. I’m so sorry. It won’t happen again. ” She said apologetically.
“It’s okay Summer,” I spoke, grabbing her hand, “It’s getting late. We should probably head off to the party,”

After everything that’s happened, any normal guy would have given up on this date, and on Summer, but I refused to be one of them. Sure, Summer was judgmental, and rude, but I still wanted to give her a chance to show me who she truly was. Summer was far from flawless, yet somehow she still managed to be perfect in her own way. As we walked to the party, our fingers once again were intertwined, and all the enchantment came flooding back…