Remembering Summer

Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN

(TYLER'S POV)

I haven't seen Summer since the three year anniversary of Emily's suicide. I don't know why she hasn't answered any of my calls or texts. At first, my head went to the worst possible scenario: she had gotten hurt. That feeling was gone when I saw her dad outside, happy and carefree. I wake up today, on the sixth day without her, and hope to go to her house. Instead, I'm greeted by my mom bursting in my door and telling me we're going to church.

"Mom, we haven't gone to church since...I don't even remember the last time we went to church," I rub my head in annoyance. Summer's hiding something, and I want to know what it is.

"We'll, we're going today, as soon as you're ready. So hurry up."

I walk into the bathroom and turn on the shower.

"And do NOT take forever in the shower! We are going to church, young man!" she tells through the door. I shake y head and turn my music on. While I'm showering, my mind wanders back to Summer. Why is she so distant? Weren't people supposed to get closer when they said the L word? Was it because I didn't say it back? I didn't think I had to, because honestly, I didn't know if I was in love with her. In the moment, I felt it. But sitting here and laying the facts in front of me, I don't know.

I've only known her a month and a week. She reminds me so much of Emily yet she's Emily's polar opposite. She's damaged, so am I, though. But I didn't just fall for her because she has a sad story. One of the things she asked me that day was to treat her like Summer, not the girl who's mom died and then was raped.

I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands. I really fucked up this time.

I'm not in love with her. It's not possible to be in love with someone that fast. I'd have to tell her that, maybe she'll understand. But if she doesn't, I'm fucked.

"TYLER! HURRY UP OR WE'RE GONNA BE LATE!"

I turn off the shower and walk into my room, then stop. My mom has laid a white button down shirt, nice black pants, a tie, and a suit jacket on my bed. No way in hell am I wearing this. No fucking way.

"Mom-"

"You're wearing it, Tyler," she says as she walks in front of my door frame. She's not paying any attention to me, though. She's looking around, like she's trying to find something. Everything about her is put together, except for her eyes. They're distressed, nervous and panicked.

"Mom, did you lose something?" I ask, slipping the last of my clothes on. Her head snaps up and her eyes look almost black for a second. She manages to contain herself and shake her head no, but then nods.

"Yes, I can't seem to find my ring."

I stop short. Her ring? As in her wedding ring? Why was it even off in the first place?

"Um, I haven't seen it. Mom," I stop for a second, wait for her to pay attention to me, "why did you take it off to begin with?"

"I was washing dishes and I didn't want it going down the drain."

Her eyes flick up to the left corner. I was so close. So close to believing her, to feeling like everything was alright and there was nothing to worry about. But the second her eyes moved, I knew. She's lying. Why the hell would my own mother lie to me? I try to distract myself with the first question, but the answer comes too easily. She doesn't want me to fun something out. The next question is one I don't want to face. What is it she's hiding?

I really do try to pay attention to what the pastor is saying. He's nice, maybe about 26. His name is Doug. But I feel myself nodding off every now and then, only to recieve a swift jab to the hip, courtesy of my mother's elbow.