That Summer

“Deep breath in…” Darlene, the owner of Sea Wall Ink, says. “Deep breath out.”

Hunter whimpers and squeezes my hand as Darlene pierces her skin. I try to squeeze back, but her grip is too tight for any movement.

“And that’s it!” Darlene says, rolling her stool away from the piercing table and grabbing a hand mirror from the counter. “Want to see, Annabella?”

I try not to laugh at the poor lady using the name on the fake ID that Hunter had brought with her from Georgia. Our cover story was that Annabella was my older cousin visiting from Georgia. Everybody in town knows me, but not everyone knows Hunter.

Hunter sits up. “Yes, please.” She takes the mirror from Darlene and looks at the piercing in the reflection. Her face lights up. “Oh my gosh, I love it!” She squeals happily. “Thank you! Giovanna, can you give me my bag?”

I stand beside her as she pays for the piercing with her dad’s credit card—which he apparently never checks the statement for—and then we head out. Hunter digs through her tote bag and pulls out the tiny purple digital camera she’s carried around all summer.

“Take a picture of me!” She hands me the camera and tote bag, ties her t-shirt so she exposes her midriff, and unbuttons the fly of her denim cutoffs. My throat is dry as she folds down the waistband of her jeans just below her belly button.

She looks up at the camera and beams, all squinty-eyed from the sunshine. I can’t hide the smile that spreads across my face as I shoot her in a variety of poses.

“What are you going to do when you can’t just throw Tanya at me and demand a photoshoot?” I tease, handing her beloved camera to her.

Her face falls. Summer is quickly coming to a close, and we’ve avoided discussing it.

“I guess,” she says slowly, “I’ll just have to take lots of selfies, and send them to you so you can see how absolutely lost I am without you.”

My cheeks heat, and it’s not just because of the summer heat.

Hunter smirks at me and walks toward me. “You’re blushing.”

“It’s a sunburn,” I lie.

“You’re gonna miss me.”

I shake my head. “Nuh-uh. I can’t wait for you to come home. I’ll never have to hear the word ‘y’all’ again.”

She links her arm in mine and rests her head on my shoulder as we begin to walk towards Queenie's for celebratory shakes and fries. “I’m gonna miss you, too.”