Endless Summer

Not a single boat motor broke the silence—only the occasional clackclack, clack-clack of a car passing on the other side of the concrete wall and a nervous vibration through the bridge.

“Kkkkkk,” came radio static. “You on the bridge. Lori McGillicuddy. This is the police.”

I glared at Adam standing on the ledge beside me with his hands cupped over his mouth to sound more like a police radio. He wasn’t holding onto the bridge at all.

“You startled me,” I said. “What if I’d fallen?” e lake wasn’t far enough below to kill me, but the impact might still hurt. And we were not here for his adrenaline rush.

We were doing something romantic, and we were in it together.

He touched my elbow. “I would have caught you.”

He probably could have. What he lacked in good judgment, he made up for in strength and coordination. Of Endless Summer course, the poor judgment often trumped the strength and coordination, which accounted for at least one of the times in grade school he’d broken his leg.

But his fingers on my elbow made my skin tingle. His skull-and-crossbones pendant glinted in the starlight, and his strange light blue eyes watched me in the hot darkness. Though I was precariously balanced and about to deface public property, I used my own poor judgment to lean forward and kiss him.

He seemed surprised for a split second. Usually he was the one to start things between us. Then he slid his hands into my hair and kissed me back.

I felt the paint can slipping through my fingers. Gripping it harder, I loosened my hold on the bridge. I was falling.

He pulled me closer and held me steady. “Even I think this is not the best place to make out,” he breathed.

“If you say so.” I was kidding. Personally, my bravado had pitched off the side of the bridge along with my balance.

“I could have fallen instead of you,” he said in mock outrage. “Oh, wait, I already fell.” He touched the tip of my nose with his finger. “For you.”

“Awwww!” I cried. “Adam, that’s so sweet!”

He gri

“I did like it. You are a very good boyfriend. Who would have guessed?” With a final moony gaze at him—God, we were such idiots, but it was fun to be an idiot in love

—I turned back to the bridge and sca

LOVES LOKI, which Adam had painted very sloppily last weekend, then crossed out when we had a fight. I could have moved farther down the bridge or reached higher up for a blank slate, but I was not as fond of playing Tarzan as Adam was. Finally I decided on a space down low that had been painted over so many times, it would make a nice dark backdrop for my red paint. I shook the can one more time, held it out to Adam to pry the top off, and crouched to write.

“You’re sure you don’t want me to do it?” he asked.

“No thanks. When you want your name written legibly in graffiti, you have to do it yourself.” He laughed. “I was in a hurry, and the paint ran when it rained. Besides, you knew what I meant.” Smiling, I started the first downward leg of LORI LOVES ADAM. “Yeah, I knew what you meant.” In only a few minutes I was finishing the M. “There. Some couples swap class rings to show they’re together. Some people switch their online profiles from single to in a relationship. We commit a misdemeanor.”

He took the paint can from me. “e police chief ’s son’s name is up here, so I wouldn’t be too worried. Come on.” He headed for the shore, placing one battered deck shoe in front of the other, but still barely holding on to the bridge, his fingers brushing the metal. Just following him seemed dangerous.

We reached land and hiked up the embankment, over to the city boat ramp, then into the parking lot. e streetlights gently lit the trucks and empty trailers of the night fishermen. No one stopped us as we walked up the steep asphalt to Adam’s truck. We’d gotten away with it.

My fingers were raw from my death grip on the bridge, and my bare toes were rough. Other than that, everything had gone perfectly my whole sixteenth birthday. After our huge fight last night, Adam and I had gotten back together today. We’d had a great time at the lake festival. We and our brothers had performed a wakeboarding show for an enormous crowd. Not even Adam had broken a bone. And now we’d spray painted our love for each other on the bridge without a single mishap? is night was Too Good To Be True.

As he opened the passenger door for me—he never locked the doors, because he liked to tempt fate—I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window. Even after my test run in a life of crime, my hair was gorgeous, I tell you. It clumped a little in the humidity, but it looked like I’d created that piecey effect on purpose with styling gel. I was a vision of blonde loveliness.

That was the last straw. A day this happy and good hair, too? Now I knew something awful was about to happen.

Adrenaline had propelled me through my artistry on the bridge. at started to drain away now. Fatigue set in—from wakeboarding in the festival show that afternoon and worrying the last few days about whether Adam and I would ever get together.

“What’s wrong?” he asked from behind me, tossing the paint can in the payload.

“I’m having a good hair day.”

“I hate it when that happens.” Gathering my hair and pushing it forward over my shoulder, he kissed the back of my neck.

I shivered in the heat. The adrenaline came rushing back, and I was not so tired.

“e night is young,” he growled between kisses. “I have an idea of what we can do now. We’ve kissed before.” Kiss. “We’ve made out.” Kiss. “But we’ve never made out as an official couple, in the privacy of my Secret Make-Out Hideout.”

I turned to look sideways at him. I found I couldn’t do this without denying him access to the back of my neck. So I gave up on the sly look and enjoyed his soft lips on my skin. “You have a Secret Make-Out Hideout?” I whispered with my head bent.

“I do.” His low voice against my neck sent chills through me. “Just for you.”

“What are we waiting for?” I hopped forward through the open door, into the truck.

“You won’t regret it,” he said before he closed the door and rounded the truck to the driver’s side.

I missed him for ten seconds, looking forward to the instant he slipped back inside the truck and we laughed together again. Decision made. It wasn’t my first bad judgment leading to an Adam-Related Catastrophe, and it wouldn’t be my last.

“Adam,” Lori whispered. I’d known her all my life. I was used to her scent of warm skin and water. But in the last couple of weeks she’d started wearing perfume. I caught another whiff of it every time she shook my shoulder.

Without opening my eyes, I sniffed deeply, inhaling all the perfume I could get. Her hair tickled my face. I nuzzled her neck.

“Adam Vader.” Now her voice sounded pinched, like she was clenching her teeth. “I am trying to remain calm so as not to alarm you, but wake the hell up already.”

at made me open my eyes. She lay on top of me, looking down at me. I couldn’t see her features clearly in the shadowy cab of my truck. Her long blonde hair cascaded around me and glowed pink in the light of sunrise.

Sunrise!

“Oh, God.” I sat up, dumping her off my chest and onto the passenger side. For the perfect end to a perfect day, I’d driven her here. My secret make-out hideout was a point of land jutting into the lake with a dirt road leading to it, a primo lot that nobody had built a house on yet. It was at the other end of our neighborhood, and we could actually see our houses and my parents’ marina from here. My truck was hidden from their view by the trees around us, which was the beauty of it. I loved having the upper hand for once in my life.