It's Not Summer Without You

“So you made me wait all day to hear about the prom! I want to know everything!”

“‘Oh, that,’” he said. He had this embarrassed look on his face, and I knew he didn’t want to talk about it. I was sure he’d done something to screw it up.

“‘Oh, that,’” my mom teased. “Come on, Co

“It was okay,” Conrad said.

“That’s it?” I said. I was a

Conrad ignored me. “She looked really pretty. She wore a purple dress.”

My mom nodded, smiling. “I know exactly the one. How’d the corsage look?”

He shifted in his seat. “It looked nice.”

“Did you end up getting the kind you pin on or the kind you wear on your wrist?”

“The kind you pin on,” he said.

“And did you dance?”

“Yeah, a lot,” he said. “We danced, like, every song.”

“What was the theme?”

“I don’t remember,” Conrad said, and when my mother looked disappointed he added, “I think it was A Night on the Continent. It was, like, a tour of Europe. They had a big Eiffel Tower with Christmas tree lights on it, and a London Bridge you could walk across. And a Leaning Tower of Pisa.”

I looked over at him. A Night on the Continent was our school’s prom theme last year; I know because I was there.

But I guess my mother didn’t remember, because she said, “Oh, that sounds so nice. I wish I could’ve been at Laurel’s house to help Belly get ready. I’m go

“I’m not sure,” he said.

“Ask Belly, will you?” She set her plate down on the coffee table and leaned back against the couch cushions. She looked exhausted all of a sudden.

“I will,” he said.

“I think I’m going to bed now,” she said. “Jere, will you get all this cleaned up?”

“Sure, Mom,” I said, helping her to her feet.

She kissed us both on the cheek and went to her bedroom. We’d moved the study upstairs and put her bedroom downstairs so she didn’t have to go up and down the stairs.

When she was gone, I said, sarcastically, “So you guys danced all night, huh?”

“Just leave it,” Conrad said, leaning his head back against the couch.

“Did you even go to the prom? Or did you lie to Mom about that, too?”

He glared at me. “Yeah, I went.”

“Well, somehow I doubt you guys danced all night,” I said. I felt like a jerk but I just couldn’t let it go.

“Why do you have to be such a dick? What do you care about the prom?”

I shrugged. “I just hope you didn’t ruin it for her. What are you even doing here, anyway?”

I expected him to get pissed, in fact I think I hoped he would. But all he said was, “We can’t all be Mr. Prom King.” He started closing the takeout boxes. “Are you done eating?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m done,” I said.

chapter fourteen

When we drove up to campus, there were people milling around outside on the lawn. Girls were laying out in shorts and bikini tops, and a group of boys were playing Ultimate Frisbee. We found parking right in front of Conrad’s dorm and then we slipped inside the building when a girl stepped out with a laundry basket full of clothes. I felt so incredibly young, and also lost—I’d never been there before. It was different than I’d pictured it. Louder. Busier.

Jeremiah knew the way and I had to hurry to keep up. He took the stairs two at a time and at the third floor, we stopped. I followed him down a brightly lit hallway. On the wall by the elevator there was a bulletin board with a poster that read, Let’s talk about sex, baby . There were STD pamphlets and a breast exam how-to, and neon condoms were stapled around artfully. “Take one,” someone had written in highlighter. “Or three.”

Conrad’s door had his name on it, and underneath it, the name “Eric Trusky.”

His roommate was a stocky, muscular guy with reddish brown hair, and he opened the door wearing gym shorts and a T-shirt. “What’s up?” he asked us, his eyes falling on me. He reminded me of a wolf.

Instead of feeling flattered by a college guy checking me out, I just felt grossed out. I wanted to hide behind Jeremiah the way I used to hide behind my mother’s skirt when I was five and really shy. I had to remind myself I was sixteen, almost seventeen. Too old to be nervous around a guy named Eric Trusky. Even if Conrad did tell me that Eric was always forwarding him freaky porno videos and stayed on his computer pretty much all day. Except for when he watched his soaps from two to four.

Jeremiah cleared his throat. “I’m Conrad’s brother, and this is—our friend,” he said. “Do you know where he is?”

Eric opened the door and let us in. “Dude, I have no idea. He just took off. Did Ari call you?”

“Who’s Ari?” I asked Jeremiah.

“The RA,” he said.

“Ari the RA,” I repeated, and the corners of Jeremiah’s mouth turned up.

“Who are you?” Eric asked me.

“Belly.” I watched him, waiting for a glimmer of recognition, something that let me know that Conrad talked about me, had at least mentioned me. But of course there was nothing.

“Belly, huh? That’s cute. I’m Eric,” he said, leaning against the wall.

“Um, hi,” I said.

“So—Conrad didn’t say anything to you before he left?” Jeremiah interjected.

“He barely talks, period. He’s like an android.” Then he gri

I felt sick inside. What pretty girls? Jeremiah exhaled loudly and clasped his hands behind his head. Then he took out his phone and looked at it, as if there might be some answer there.

I sat down on Conrad’s bed—navy sheets and navy comforter. It was unmade. Conrad always made his bed at the summer house. Hotel corners and everything.

So this was where he’d been living. This was his life now.

He didn’t have a lot of things in his dorm room. No TV, no stereo, no pictures hanging up. Certainly none of me, but none even of Susa

“I was actually about to take off, dudes. Going to my parents’ country house. Will you guys just make sure the door is closed when you leave? And when you find C, tell him he owes me twenty bucks for the pizza.”

“No worries, man. I’ll tell him.” I could tell Jeremiah didn’t like Eric, the way his lips almost but didn’t quite form a smile when he said it. He sat down at Conrad’s desk, surveying the room.

Someone knocked on the door and Eric ambled over to open it. It was a girl, wearing a long-sleeved shirt and leggings and sunglasses on the top of her head. “Have you seen my sweater?” she asked him. She peered around him like she was looking for something. Someone.

Did they date, I wondered? That was my first thought. My second thought was, I’m prettier than her . I was ashamed of myself for thinking it, but I couldn’t help it. The truth was, it didn’t matter who was prettier, her or me. He didn’t want me anyway.

Jeremiah jumped up. “Are you a friend of Con’s? Do you know where he went?”

She eyed us curiously. I could tell she thought Jeremiah was cute, the way she tucked her hair behind her ears and took her sunglasses off. “Um, yeah. Hi. I’m Sophie. Who are you?”

“His brother.” Jeremiah walked over and shook her hand. Even though he was stressed out, he took the time to check her out and give her one of his trademark smiles, which she lapped right up.