Every Summer After(69)

Every few minutes, someone would come up to Sam to tell him how fantastic his speech was. We made our way to the stage, watching other drunker people dancing with their arms linked around each other’s shoulders. Several beers in, I noticed that there were no porta potties and that girls were sneaking away to squat in the bushes. I slowed down my drinking after that, but eventually was forced to break the seal among the leaves like everyone else.

“That was a unique experience,” I said to Sam when I got back. The red lights of the stage illuminated his four-beer grin and hooded eyes.

“Dance with me,” he said, circling his arms around my waist, and we swayed together slowly even though the music was a pounding club song.

“I know a million people have already told you this tonight,” I said with my fingers twisted in the hair at the nape of his neck. “But your speech was kind of incredible. I thought I was the writer in this relationship. What other secrets are you keeping from me, Sam Florek?” The smile slipped from his face.

“What?” I asked. He pressed his lips together, and my stomach dropped. “Sam, what? Is there something you’re keeping from me?” I stopped moving.

“Let’s go somewhere quieter,” he said, taking my hand to lead me away from the stage and toward a clump of boulders. He pulled me behind the rocks and ran his hand through his hair.

“Sam, you’re really freaking me out,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. The beer was making my head fuzzy. “What’s going on?”

He took a deep breath and shoved his hands in his pockets. “I got accepted into this intensive workshop for premed students.”

“A workshop?” I parroted. “You didn’t tell me you had applied.”

“I know. It was a long shot. They only accept twelve first-years. I really didn’t think I’d get in.”

“Well, that’s great,” I said, my words slurring. “I’m proud of you, Sam.”

“The thing is, Percy,” he hesitated, shifting on his feet. “It starts early. I have to leave in three weeks.” Battery acid dripped down my spine.

“Three weeks?” I repeated. Three weeks was no time at all. When would I see Sam after that? Thanksgiving? I shut my eyes—everything was starting to spin. “I’m going to be sick,” I groaned.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I should have, but I knew how much you were looking forward to spending the summer together,” he said, taking my hand.

“I thought you were, too,” I murmured. Then I threw up all over his new dress shoes.

Charlie took one look at me when I climbed into the truck, cheeks stained with mascara tears, and said to Sam, “Finally told her, huh?” Sam shot him a dark look, and no one spoke for the rest of the drive.

Three weeks went by as if they were seconds, and my dread formed roots in my feet and grew branches that spread to my shoulders and arms. Sam spent much of our time together with his nose in various textbooks, as if he was cramming for a major exam. He refused to break our annual lake-crossing tradition, and insisted I do the swim on his last day before heading to school. It was a gorgeous sunny morning, and I went through the motions of stretching and warming up. Since I started competitive swimming, paddling across the lake wasn’t a challenge for me like it used to be. I felt almost numb when I made it to the far shore, pulling my knees up to my chest and gulping down the water Sam had packed for me.

“Your fastest time yet,” he said happily when I was done, throwing an arm around me and pulling me against his side. “I thought I might not be able to keep up.” I let out a bitter laugh.

“That’s funny,” I said, hating how resentful I sounded. “I feel like I’m the one being left behind.”

“You don’t really think that, do you?” I wouldn’t look at him but could hear the worry in his voice.

“What am I supposed to think, Sam? You didn’t tell me that you applied to this course. You didn’t tell me when you were accepted.” I swallowed back tears. “I understand why you want to go. It’s amazing that you got in. And I one hundred percent think it’s going to be great for you. But you keeping all this from me until the very last minute hurts. A lot. It makes me feel like this is a one-sided thing we’ve got going on.”

“It’s not!” he said, his voice cracking. He pulled me onto his lap so I was facing him and took my head between his hands so I couldn’t look away. “God, of course it’s not. You’re my best friend. My favorite person.” He kissed me and pulled me against his bare chest. It was warm with sweat and he smelled so much like summer, so much like Sam, that I wanted to curl up inside him.

“We’ll talk all the time.”

“It feels like I’m never going to see you again,” I admitted, and then he smiled at me with pity, like I was being truly ridiculous.

“It’s just university,” he said, kissing the top of my wet head. “One day, you won’t be able to get rid of me. I promise.”



* * *





SUE AND SAM left early the next morning while Charlie and I waved from the porch, tears streaming down my face.

“C’mon,” he said after the car had driven out of sight, throwing his arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go for a boat ride.”