Endless Summer

“No,” I admitted. It sounded about as fun as getting a tooth pulled every afternoon. “But I didn’t start this in the first place. Sean did. Sean stole Rachel from Adam.”

“Adam never liked Rachel anyway,” McGillicuddy said. “He was madder about the insult than the girl. He was in love with you. If it hadn’t been for you wanting to fool Sean, Adam would have simmered down eventually and let Sean have Rachel. We’d be back to normal by now.”

“Reverse, please,” I said. “Adam was in love with—”

“You. Where did I go wrong? I raised a little brother, not a femme fatale.”

I didn’t quite get it. Could Adam have been telling me the truth about his plot? It seemed too good to be true, and too awful if I had screwed this up. “Did Adam say he’s in love with me?”

“Was in love with you. Yes, that’s what he said. How the hell else would I know? I wish I didn’t. is place is getting to be like that awful girls’ reality show, what’s it called? The chicks in my dorm call dibs on the TV in the rec center and won’t let us watch basketball.”

“Is it on MTV?”

“Yes!”

“Get out of my room.”

As he stood, I made a weak grab for The Hunt for Red October, but he dodged me. He closed the door behind him.

Adam was in love with me. He wasn’t just saying it to keep me with him while he made Sean jealous. He was in love with me.

Head throbbing, I looked around my room, which still reflected the boy I’d been before I started transforming myself. I hadn’t gotten around to a room makeover with purple flowers and a fuzzy pink ottoman. As the air-conditioning clicked on, the fighter jet models I’d built from kits swayed at the end of their strings near the ceiling. I was a little brother. I was a mess.

Adam had been in love with me, just like this.

And now he wasn’t.

It was a good thing Advil took care of my headache. If I’d had to stay out of work and spend the day at home, I would have driven myself insane (if I wasn’t already). As it was, I showered faster than usual to make up for lost time, taking care to keep my stitches out of the spray. I ate breakfast as usual, except Dad gave me a big hug and sobbed a little into my hair. As usual, McGillicuddy and I opened the door to hike across our yard and the Vaders’ to the marina—

—and there stood Sean with his finger on the doorbell. He asked me brightly, “Will you go to the party tonight with me?” My brain said, Hooray! I’m going out with Sean! My time has come!

My body was strangely quiet. ere was no happy skin. My brain reached down through my nerve endings to poke at my heart and make sure it was okay. My heart said, Eh. At this point I realized I did need to go back to the shrink. I sagged against the doorjamb, rolled my eyes, and uttered something very unladylike.

McGillicuddy stepped around me and wagged his cell phone between his fingers. With a pointed look at Sean, he told me, “Call me if you need me.”

“I could take you,” Sean shouted after McGillicuddy. “Bring it on.” His voice echoed around the garage. en he turned back to me and sighed, “I was afraid you’d say that. Look, I told my dad we’d come to work a little late this morning because we’re going to fish your wakeboard out of the lake. Let’s talk.” I followed him down to my pier, where he’d tied the wakeboarding boat. Clearly it did occur to him to dock in a certain place to save someone a long walk. Himself.

Just not me. We stepped in, and I looked around on the floor. “Who cleaned the blood out of the boat for me? I was going to do it this morning.”

“Adam,” Sean said. “When we get to the pontoon boat, you’ve got to tell me this story. He was saying it was his fault and crying the whole time. Pussy.” He slapped his hand over his mouth. “Sorry. I almost forgot you weren’t a guy.” Before I could offer a choice response, he cranked the motor and the Nickelback.

As we zoomed toward the pontoon boat, I noticed that a dump truck had mistakenly unloaded a pile of soot onto the side of the bridge. e closer we got, the more clearly I could see it wasn’t a pile of soot after all but carefully applied spray paint marking out the letters AOAN LOVES LOKI. Adam had been busy. He must have gone out in the motorboat in the near-dark last night, or the near-dark this morning. He wanted to get the offensive words off the bridge as quickly as he could. ey would have haunted him until he got rid of them. He hated me that much.

“Junior!” Sean stood in front of me, clapping his hands. “McGillicuddy Part Deux!” He’d stopped the boat next to the pontoon boat. “McGillicuddy left your wakeboard floating here, so let’s check under the pontoon boat first.” He handed me one of the oars that motorboats carry in case their engines stop when they run over logs. As we poked around under the pontoons, he asked, “Why’s Adam so pissed at you?”

“It’s complicated. We’ve only been going out to make you and Rachel mad.” I couldn’t believe I was telling him this. But my brilliant ploys had gotten me into this fix, and I’d lost hope they could get me out. Also, I must have bled out my last lick of sense. “I’ve sort of had a thing for you.” He pulled his oar from under the boat and put all his weight on it, like he needed it to keep him from collapsing. “You? Have a thing for me?”

“Had.”

He made a face. “Ugh!”

is should have been the low point of my life, the one I’d dreaded for over a decade: rejection by Sean. Now that it had finally happened, I didn’t feel humiliated. I was angry. “What do you mean, ugh? You flirted with me a couple of weeks ago, before your first party. Remember wiping bryozoa on me? at’s the mating dance of the brain-dead Vader brothers.”

“Oh, yeah! I’d forgotten all about the bryozoa.” He waved his hand in the air, dismissing the bryozoa incident like a pesky yellow jacket. “Adam was acting protective of you that day for some reason. I got the idea he might like you a little. So I figured I’d push his buttons. I can’t see myself really coming on to you, ever.” He shoved his oar under the boat again. “No offense.”

“None taken, you ass.”

He glanced sideways at me. “When I said ‘Ugh,’ I just meant, ‘Ugh, what could Buddy possibly see in little old me?’” Sure you did. “I honestly can’t remember,” I said, poking my oar under the boat, too. “Anyway, Adam thinks I crashed into the pontoon boat on purpose so you could close the wakeboarding show again, and you’d like me better. I didn’t, but Adam thinks I did.” I ran my finger over the little dent my thick skull had made in the aluminum side of the boat. “I guess he was willing to take the fake love just so far.”

“So you’ve faked hooking up.”

I glanced toward the bridge, at the scribble that once had said AOAN LOVES LOKI. “Yeah.”

“You faked flirting with each other on the desk in the living room.”

“Yeah.” It hadn’t felt like faking, but what did I know?

“You faked making out on the end of the dock at the party last Friday? And disappearing into the lake? Because that was convincing.”

“Yes. I mean, we really made out, but we weren’t really in love.” At least, I hadn’t realized it at the time.

“at little shit!” he yelled so loudly that I worried about the i

“Now why are you so pissed?” I asked.

“Because it worked! He stole Rachel from me!”

I stomped my foot on the floor of the boat, like a girl. “You stole Rachel from him in the first place, just to make him mad. Even if you thought you really liked her by the time she broke up with you, she only seemed like something you’d want because Adam had her in the first place.” He brought in his oar again and leaned on it. “I may be shallow, Lori, but I’m not a monster.” He gazed downstream. “I don’t think your wakeboard’s under here.