That Summer

This summer flew by. School starts in two weeks, and Hunter is going home to Georgia in one. I could pretend I don’t know which I am more upset about, but it would be fruitless. Hunter is still here, and I already miss her.

“Do you think you’ll come back next summer?” I blurt, sudden and unprompted.

Hunter and I sit at the sea wall with strawberry milkshakes and sweet potato fries from Queenie’s. She swallows before answering.

“I hope so,” she says quietly, staring out at the sound.

“So you like Port Haven?” I hope my tone is casual.

She laughs softly. “I think you’re trying to get me to say I like you.”

“You caught me,” I tease, poking her side. She squeaks and jerks away, shooting me a playful glare.

“Rude.” She looks so pretty right now, the sun making her hair golden, her blue eyes even bluer. I want to kiss her.

But I can’t. We’re in public and it’s the middle of the day. We’ve had to be more careful since my dad caught us. He’s been acting weirder than usual, but I don’t think he’s told anyone, and he hasn’t brought it up to me. He also knocks for a full minute and announces himself twice before coming into my room now.

But still, it’s awkward. So we only get to touch each other on the beach at night. Which feels kinda reckless and dirty and fun.

“I do, you know,” Hunter’s soft voice, barely audible above the waves, breaks me out of my stupor.

“Do what?” I ask.

“Like you.”

My responding smile is so big my jaw aches. “Me, too.”