The Summer We Fell (The Summer, #1)(45)

seen, that I’m worth watching.

I want him to know he’s worth watching, too, but he’s probably already figured that much out. I can barely look away when he enters the room.

IT’S RAINING when my shift ends. I walk outside to find Luke waiting in the Jeep. He tells me he just happened to be here.

“You didn’t have to do this,” I tell him. “I’m used to biking in the rain.”

He hands me a towel from the back seat to dry my damp head. “You shouldn’t have to get used to hard things, Jules.”

Except he won’t always be around. Whether I’m still in Rhodes or somewhere else, I’m going to have to fend for myself eventually.

He’s silent as we start down the road, and then he glances at me. “My mom is like that.” His voice is quieter than it was. “She was used to my dad being a drunk, and when she finally left, she married a guy who was worse, and I think it was mostly because he seemed so familiar. Another useless drunk.”

“There’s a pretty big difference between being someone who marries alcoholics and someone who’s willing to bike home in the rain.”

His mouth twitches. “I meant that she was used to hard things. I don’t want you thinking it has to be like that too.”

“Do you…still talk to them?” I bite my lip. “Sorry. You don’t have to discuss it if you don’t want.”

“I’m an open book.”

I laugh. “No one is less of an open book than you, Luke.”

A smile flickers over his face. “For you, I’m an open book. And no, I don’t still talk to them. But I have an older sister. I talk to her sometimes.”

“I can’t imagine you as anyone’s little brother.”

“Oh, believe me, I was. She still teases me about Mr. Maple, this stuffed animal I used to carry everywhere.”

He’s turned the heater on for me and the car is now cozy inside, the rhythmic back and forth of the wipers surprisingly soothing. “You named a stuffed animal Mr. Maple?”

His mouth twitches. “I’d spilled syrup on him.”

I picture a little Luke, carrying a stuffed animal around by the ear in footie pajamas. I hate that the tiny version of him had to suffer.

“Do you miss them?”

He shrugs. “My mom, yeah, though I don’t know why. You know what my last memory is of her?

Her hunting under the couch for a tooth my stepfather knocked out. And then her taking his fucking



side when I kicked his ass.”

My heart aches. I know exactly how alone he must have felt because I lived it.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, letting my hand rest over the top of his for a moment before I pull it back.

“Believe me, I know what it’s like to have your mom take the wrong person’s side.”

He sighs. “Yeah, I figured. That’s why you allowed yourself to wind up with the Allens.”

We pull into the neighborhood—our ride is nearly over and I don’t want it to be.

“How’s the GoFundMe?” I ask, though I know. I check it every morning.

He slows as he turns onto the Allens’ street. “Forty dollars. And most of that’s from you.”

“Not enough to buy four professional quality surfboards then?”

He grins. “They’re like a grand apiece. So close, but not quite.”

We pull into the driveway. He tips his chin toward the house. “Go inside so you don’t get soaked.

I’ll get your bike.”

“Then you’ll get soaked.”

“Better me than you.” He frowns. “I’m not spending the next two hours cooking.”

I hesitate and then smile, hoping it conveys everything I cannot say: Thank you for taking my side, Luke. Thank you for putting me first. I wish I could do the same thing for you.

And then it occurs to me that maybe I can.

THE GUYS we hang out with most nights are in a similar position to Luke and Danny: college kids, scraping by. Liam works construction like Luke does. Ryan works at a bar. But I suspect the prep school guys—Caleb, Harrison, and Beck—have loads of money. They talk like kids with money—

they golf, they compare Park City to Telluride for skiing, they argue over whether Kauai or Maui is a better island—and Harrison drives a new BMW. It continually surprises me that I find them likable, but I do. They’re kind to everyone, even Grady—ignoring him when he’s being an uptight prick—and they cheer Luke on like a brother.

They could definitely afford to help Luke out, so once they’re all gathered, I nervously, ostentatiously clear my throat. I’m glad Grady isn’t present to hear me begging and admitting defeat.

“Luke needs new boards,” I announce. “For the contest coming up.”

Everyone blinks at me in surprise. I don’t talk much, normally. “I thought you did a GoFundMe?”

Caleb asks Luke.

“It wasn’t successful,” Luke replies, embarrassed. “Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re making good money doing construction, right?” Beck asks. “You ought to be able to swing a decent shortboard, at least.”

Luke gives a terse nod. “I have to use it to pay my living expenses during the school year.