We’ll Always Have Summer
: Chapter 43

Everything did go back to normal. I was normal, Conrad was normal: it was like nothing happened. Because nothing did happen. If he didn’t have a bandage on his leg, I’d have thought I dreamed the whole thing.

The boys were all down by the beach, except for Conrad, who couldn’t get water on his leg. He was in the kitchen, getting meat ready for the grill. Us girls were lying by the pool, passing a bag of kettle corn back and forth. Weatherwise, it was a perfect Cousins day. The sun was high and hot, and there were only a few clouds. No rain in the forecast for the next seven days. Our wedding was safe.

“Redbird’s kind of cute, no?” Taylor said, adjusting her bikini top.

“Gross,” Anika said. “Anybody with a nickname like Redbird—no thank you.”

Taylor frowned at her. “Don’t be so judgmental. Belly, what do you think?”

“Um… he’s a nice guy. Jeremiah says he’s very loyal.”

“See?” Taylor crowed, poking Anika with her toe.

Anika gave me a look, and I smiled a sneaky smile and said, “He’s very, very loyal. So what if he’s, like, a smidge Cro-Magnon?”

Taylor threw a handful of popcorn at me and, giggling, I tried to catch some with my mouth.

“Are we going out with the boys tonight?” Anika asked.

“No, they’re doing their own thing. They’re going to some bar with half-off Irish car bombs or something.”

“Eww,” Taylor said.

Glancing back toward the kitchen, Anika said in a low voice, “You guys never told me how hot Conrad is.”

“He’s not that hot,” Taylor said. “He just thinks he is.”

“No he doesn’t,” I defended. To Anika, I said, “Tay’s just mad because he never went for her.”

“Why would he go for her when he was your man?”

I shushed her. “He was never my man,” I whispered.

“He was always your man,” Taylor said, spritzing herself with more suntan oil.

Firmly, I said, “Not anymore.”

For dinner we had steaks and grilled vegetables. It was a grown-up kind of meal. Drinking red wine, sitting around a table with all my friends, I felt adult. I was sitting next to Jeremiah, and he had his arm around my chair. And yet.

All night, I talked to other people. I didn’t look in his direction, but I always knew where he was. I was painfully aware of him. When he was nearby, my body hummed. When he was away, there was this dull ache. With him near, I felt everything.

He was sitting next to Anika, and he said something that made her laugh. I could feel my heart pinch. I looked away.

Tom stood up and made a toast. “To Belly and J-Fish, a really”—he belched—“amazing couple. Really freaking amazing.”

I saw Anika give Taylor a look, like you think this guy is cute? Taylor shrugged back at her. Everyone lifted their beer cans and wine glasses, and we clinked. Jeremiah pulled me to him and kissed me on the lips, in front of everyone. I pulled away, feeling embarrassed. I saw the look on Conrad’s face and wished I hadn’t.

Then Steven said, “One more toast, guys.” Awkwardly, he stood up. “I’ve known Jere my whole life. Belly too, unfortunately.”

I threw my napkin at him.

“You guys are good together,” Steven said, looking at me. Then he looked at Jeremiah. “Treat her right, man. She’s a pain in the ass, but she’s the only sister I’ve got.”

I could feel myself tear up. I got up and hugged him. “You jerk,” I said, wiping my eyes.

As I sat back down next to Jere, he said, “I guess I should say something too. First, thanks for coming, you guys. Josh, Redbird. Taylor and Anika. It means a lot to have you here with us.” Jere nudged me, and I stared up at him, waiting for him to mention Conrad. I gave him a pointed look, but he didn’t seem to get it. He said, “You say something too, Belly.”

“Thanks for coming,” I echoed. “And, Conrad, thanks for this amazing meal. Really freaking amazing.”

Everyone laughed.

After dinner, I went up to Jeremiah’s room and watched him get ready to go out with the boys. The girls were staying behind. I’d told Taylor she could go and get her flirt on with Redbird, but she said she’d rather stay. “He ate his steak with his hands,” she’d said, looking sick.

Jere was putting on deodorant, and I was sitting on his unmade bed. “You sure you don’t want to come with us?” he asked.

“I’m sure.” Suddenly, I said, “Hey, remember that time when you found that dog on the beach? And we named her Rosie until we realized she was a boy, and then we still kept calling her Rosie anyway?”

He looked at me, frowning slightly, remembering. “It wasn’t me who found her, it was Conrad.”

“No, it wasn’t. It was you. And you cried when her owners came and got her.”

“No, that was Conrad.” His voice was hard all of a sudden.

“I don’t think so,” I said.

“It definitely was.”

“Are you sure?” I asked him.

“I’m positive. Steve and I gave him so much shit for crying.”

Had it really been Conrad? I’d been so sure of that memory.

We had Rosie for three glorious days before someone claimed her. Rosie was sweet. She was yellow and she had soft fur and we fought over whose bed she would sleep in at night. We decided to take turns, and my turn was last because I was the youngest, so I never got to keep her in my bed.

What else had I remembered wrong? I was a person who loved to play Remember When in my head. I’d always prided myself on how I remembered every detail. It scared me to think that my memories could be just ever-so-slightly wrong.

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