The Summer We Fell (The Summer, #1)(58)

She spent the whole damn morning on that chicken. Danny asks if it could be in another cooler and she presses a hand to her face, shaking her head.

“No, this is the only cooler I brought. Crap. I had it in there. I was shuffling things so the pie wouldn’t tip, and I must have left it all on the counter. What a waste.”

“Libby,” Grady warns as if he’s speaking to a child, “I’m sure we’ll manage.”

“I spent all morning on it, though,” she says. “Like, the whole morning. And I soaked all the chicken overnight in buttermilk too. It turned out so well.”

“God must be very good to us,” Grady scolds, “if that’s the worst thing that’s happened.”

Libby’s head bows in shame, and I seethe. Grady’s turning her into someone less, a shadow of herself, and I think it bothers me because I worry I’m doing the same thing to myself. That I’m spending so much time denying the things I want that I’m gonna lose track of what they even are. That I’m denying everything I feel so often that I’ll soon stop feeling anything.

“Does it have to be the worst thing that’s happened for her to say something about it, Grady?” I ask. “All her work went to waste. She’s allowed to be upset.”

His mouth presses flat. “I was just trying to keep things in perspective.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, let’s all remember this moment the next time you decide to complain.”

His eyes narrow. If I ever was unsure about this, I no longer am: Grady hates me. He hates me far out of proportion to anything I’ve ever said to him.

We roast hot dogs, and then the guys throw a football around while the girls watch. They’re acting like this is a celebration when we might be driving back without Luke tomorrow. And Danny is bitter, for the wrong reasons.

“This is so stupid,” he says, taking the seat beside me. “They’re acting like he’s Laird Hamilton. I could say I was gonna surf Mavericks too. Anyone could. It doesn’t mean you start celebrating it like it’s already happened.”

I hate the celebrating because I think it will make it harder for Luke to back out tomorrow, the way he should. But it almost feels like Danny hopes Luke will fail, and that makes me mad.

“He’s gotten really good.”





“Sure,” Danny says, his eyes rolling. “He’s spent the whole summer surfing. Must be nice.”

My fists clench. I want to point out how many summers he spent surfing. That the work he’s been doing with his dad isn’t what kept him from becoming amazing at it, and it isn’t what kept him in bed every morning while Luke got up before dawn to get in the line-up. But I think part of the problem isn’t so much that Luke is doing something Danny is not, but that he can feel my loyalties shifting, as if I’m on one of those rides where the floor tilts, and no matter how hard I scramble to maintain my footing, I’m inexorably sliding toward one side—Luke’s. And Danny might not even realize it, but he’s trying to pull me back.

THE NEXT MORNING, the sound of tents unzipping wakes me. It’s still dark out, but once one of us is up, we’re all up.

By the time I climb out of the tent, Beck and Caleb have got the beginnings of a fire going, and Harrison’s pulling a grate and kettle out for coffee. Luke is pacing, looking out over the ridge as he waits for enough daylight to see the swell.

I go over to where he stands. “Do you feel ready?”

He turns toward me, the moonlight golden on his dark head, his perfect nose. “As ready as I’m gonna be.”

“That isn’t really what I asked,” I whisper. I don’t want to shake his confidence, but I also want him to know he can still back out. “You don’t have to do this. Not one guy here would set foot in that water, so they’re not going to say a word if you decide this isn’t the time.”

He regards me for a long moment. “Do you want me not to do it?”

No. Of course I don’t fucking want you to do it.

But the question feels like more. It feels like he’s saying, “Declare yourself, Juliet. Admit you care about me in a way you shouldn’t.”

And that’s something I can’t do, even if it’s true. Even if I meant to end things with Danny months ago because of it.

“I just want you to know you don’t have to. Only you can decide whether or not you’re ready.”

He turns away to stare at the ocean again. “Then it looks like I’ve decided. Go back to your boyfriend.”

I hesitate before I give up and return to the tent, wondering if I might spend the rest of my life regretting not telling him the truth.

THE SUN IS BARELY out when we arrive at the cliffs overlooking Mavericks. We’ll be watching from

here since the tide has swept the beach away.

The guys argue about which board Luke should use. He’s got a big wave gun now, ideal for the conditions. He doesn’t want to use it because he’s worried it will break and his logic sickens me. If you’re that worried your board will break, you shouldn’t be out there in the first place.

All the guys clap Luke on the back as he zips up his wetsuit. The girls hug him. I stand frozen, doing neither, and I’m the last one he looks at as he turns to start climbing over the rocks to reach the water.