Every Summer After(48)

“Sam, it’s nine o’clock,” Sue called. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t want to get out for a run.”

“Thanks, Mom. Be down in a bit,” he called back. We lay still as her footsteps moved away from the door, then Sam took his hand from my mouth, keeping his arm snug around me. I wiggled back into him, and I felt him hard against my backside.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “It just happens when I wake up.”

“So I have nothing to do with it? My ego might take offense at that.”

“Sorry,” he said again.

“Stop apologizing,” I hissed.

“Right, sor . . .” He leaned his head on my back and shook it back and forth. “I’m nervous.” The words were muffled against my skin.

“Me, too,” I admitted. “But I don’t mind. It’s kind of nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I pressed back into him again. He swore under his breath.

“Percy.” He held my hip away from him. “We have to go have breakfast with my mom, and I’m going to need a minute.”

I smiled to myself, then turned over to face him. His hair was more rumpled than usual, and his blue eyes were hooded with sleep. He looked cute. Sam was doing a similar inspection of me, his eyes moving back and forth over my face and quickly down to my top.

“Good morning,” I said.

“I like this shirt.” He grinned lazily and ran his finger over the strap.

“Perv,” I laughed, and he kissed me, hard and deep and long, so that I was out of breath when he pulled away.

“One for the road,” he said, then added, “I’m getting you a sweatshirt. Charlie doesn’t need to enjoy your pj’s.”

I followed Sam downstairs, wearing one of his hoodies, which came down to my thighs. Sue was sitting in her spot at the kitchen table in a floral robe, drinking a coffee, her hair pulled into a haphazard bun atop her head, reading a romance novel. There was a faint smile across her lips. It disappeared as soon as she saw us hovering at the doorway.

“Percy slept over last night,” Sam explained. “She called after you went to sleep—freaked herself out watching horror movies.”

“I hope that’s okay, Sue. I didn’t want to be alone.”

Sue looked between us. “And where did she sleep?”

“In my bed,” Sam replied. I would have lied to my parents before admitting a boy slept in my bed. But Sam wasn’t much for lying.

“Sam, fix two bowls of cereal,” Sue ordered. He did as he was told, and I sat across from her, making uncomfortable small talk about my parents’ trip. Once Sam came to the table, she cleared her throat.

“Percy, you know you’re always welcome here. And, Sam, you know I trust you. However, given how much time you two spend together and now that you’re getting older, I think it’s time we had a serious talk.” I glanced at Sam; his jaw hung open. I twisted my bracelet underneath the table.

“Mom, that’s really not necess—” Sue cut him off.

“You are far too young for any of it,” she began, looking at each of us. “But I want to make sure if anything ever happens between the two of you—or with anyone else,” she added with her hands raised when Sam tried to interrupt, “that you are being safe and that you are being respectful toward one another.”

I looked down at my cereal. There was nothing to disagree with.

“Percy, Sam told me you’re seeing an older boy in Toronto.” I lifted my eyes to meet hers.

“Yeah, sort of,” I murmured.

She pinched her lips together, disappointment flickered in her eyes. “Do you like this boy?”

“Mom!” Sam was red with embarrassment. Sue leveled him with a look, then turned back to me. I could feel Sam’s eyes on me, too.

“He’s nice,” I offered, but Sue waited for more. “I’m pretty sure he likes me more than I like him.”

Sue reached over and put her hand on mine, fixing me with her eyes. I knew where Sam got that from. “I’m not surprised. You’re a kind, smart girl.” She squeezed my hand and then leaned back. She went on in a sterner voice, “I don’t want you to ever feel like you have to do anything you don’t want to with any boy, no matter how nice he is. There’s no rush. And anyone who wants to rush isn’t worth rushing for. Does that make sense?”

I told her it did.

“Don’t take any crap from any boy—not even my own sons, okay?”

“Okay,” I whispered.

“And you,” she said, looking to Sam. “The best girls are worth waiting for. Trust and friendship come first, then the other stuff. You’re only sixteen, just about to start eleventh grade. And life, hopefully, is long.” She smiled sadly. “Okay, that’s enough mom talk,” she said, putting both hands on the table and pushing herself out of the chair.

“Oh! One more thing: If Percy wants to sleep over again, you, my dear son, will be on the couch.”



* * *





MY PARENTS RETURNED and so did the hot, dry days, turning the air thin and dusty. A small brush fire started on the rocky point across from the cottage. We saw smoke billowing from the scrub and then watched boaters pull up to help put it out. Sam, Charlie, and I took the Banana Boat over and anchored it just out from shore. I waited while the boys joined the water-bucket chain. The flames were only ankle height, but when Sam and Charlie climbed back into the boat after it had been put out, they were so chuffed with themselves you’d have thought they had rescued a baby from a burning building.