The Summer We Fell (The Summer, #1)(71)

“Paddle,” Luke says, close to my ear, and he shoves me again.

This time, I manage to stand up. My balance wobbles with the vibration of the wave beneath me and I have a moment where I’m certain I’m about to lose it, but I manage to reset myself. I’m not doing all the amazing tricks Luke does—I’m not carving into the wave horizontally, just going straight forward—yet it’s still thrilling. The wind beats against my wetsuit, sends my hair flying, and it’s like I’m on the most spectacular roller coaster ride, one I’ve created myself.

It’s only when I turn back to smile at Luke—amazed at this small triumph—that I lose my balance entirely and go over the side. But I’m still smiling when I emerge.

“I did it!” I shout.

His eyes are so full of light, his smile so wide, that it hurts my heart. I catch another wave, and another after that.

And after the third wave, he’s still smiling, but there’s something more serious in his gaze too.

“Leave here with me,” he says when I reach his side. The words are quiet, but certain.

A startled laugh escapes my chest. “What? ”

“Don’t go back. Stay in LA tomorrow and don’t get on the bus. I’ve got enough saved to get us a place.”

I sit up, straddling my board as my eyes fill with tears. I want, so badly, just to say, “Yes. ” To say yes without exploring the insanity of it, without thinking about all the ways it could fail.

“I can’t,” I whisper. “That would…destroy Danny. It would destroy his whole family.”

“We can keep it a secret,” he says. “Just for now. I’ll get you someplace to stay and then finish out the semester. There’s not even two months left. No one has to know we’re together for a while.”

“You’ll still have a year of school to go.”

He shakes his head. “I’m just going to finish up the semester. I’ve got two more competitions coming up. I place in either of them and I’ll have enough between what I’ve saved and sponsors to go on the tour. For us both to go on the tour, if you’re willing.”

There are so many holes in this idea of his, but for a moment I let myself consider it: Luke and I in an apartment somewhere near the beach, where he can surf and I can come home to him every night.

Luke, coming into a diner to see me on his way to work every morning, where neither of us has to hide. Curling against him at night while we watch TV, or sliding beside him in bed, bare legs to bare legs, bare chest to bare chest. Falling asleep and waking up and never wanting, for a moment, to be away from him.

It’s so perfect it makes me ache.

Except I don’t know how I could leave the Allens with the way things are right now.

“Luke, I can’t. Donna’s relying on me.”





His jaw clenches. “Of course she is. There will always be something with them.”

The air in my lungs leaves on a slow sigh. Yeah, the situation with the Allens just seems to get worse and worse, and I’m more enmeshed than ever, but it isn’t their fault. It’s just life.

“There has to be an end coming,” I tell him. “They’ve had a bad run this year. The pastor’s had two surgeries, and Danny hurt his knee. They saved me when my life was at its worst. I can’t just turn my back on them when they need something from me.”

I see the hope woosh out of his eyes. “Juliet, I’ll wait for you forever. But if you leave it up to other people, that’s exactly how long it will take.”

I go in after that, returning Summer’s wetsuit to her and heading to the house.

Caleb throws something at my head when I walk in. “Heard you did pretty well out there, newbie.”

Danny’s in the kitchen making a sandwich. He sets the knife down. “You surfed?”

I nod. “Luke took me out.” I feel like I can’t even mention Luke’s name without giving myself away.

“On his board?” he asks.

I shake my head. “No, he grabbed some huge board, like nine feet long.”

Danny hitches a shoulder. “That’s great, hon.” His tone says something else entirely, though. It says, “That doesn’t really count, ” perhaps, or “Oh, that’s cute you think you surfed. ” But no one listening could accuse him of it. He’s the master of sucking the life out of my tiny accomplishments, of making sure my wings stay clipped, without ever appearing to have done it. I’m not sure how I’m just seeing this now.

I think back to him telling me my song was “sad”. To him warning me that “college is a lot harder than high school” when I considered applying. Suggesting a solo at the regional music festival would be too competitive for me.

Maybe none of it had to do with me at all.



“It was great,” I reply, this tight thing in my chest beginning to grow. “I wished I’d done it years ago.”

I grab my shower stuff and head to the neighbors’ house, and as I rinse away the sand, the entire morning, that sadness seems to swell in my throat until I can’t stand it anymore.

God, I wish I could just have told Luke, “Yes. Yes, let’s run away. Yes, I want to spend all my nights with you forever. ”

He offered me every single thing I want in the world, but what kind of person would I be if I accepted? What kind of person am I already, with the things I’ve been doing, with the lies I told?