Endless Summer

I couldn’t break up with him. I couldn’t watch him date another girl, or a series of them, for the rest of high school. I would regret it for the rest of my life.

And I couldn’t afford to argue with him like this. I had to convince my dad to lift the Adam ban before the summer was over. And I had to convince Adam the plan was worth it.

Unfortunately, Adam couldn’t read my mind. “You know what?” he asked. “Screw this.” He turned on his ru

I had to fix this. But jogging after him, clinging to his arm, and begging him to be reasonable would not convince him I was a terrific catch myself, one worth all this trouble. So I used a little strategy, joking my way back into his good graces. “You have no right to dis my plan,” I called after him. “Your idea of a plan is to grow a beard.”

“Hey. It’s a lot harder than it looks. I’ve only been shaving for a year.”

Good. He was joking back. That meant my humor was working on him.

Bad. He didn’t even call this over his shoulder to me. He yelled it facing forward as he stomped through the forest. I could hardly hear him. My humor was not working well enough.

I skipped after him until I caught up. I kept pace beside him, which was difficult. He was much taller than I was, with a longer stride, and he maintained a straight course while I had to dodge around bushes and briars.

“This is good,” I panted. “We’re both awful actors, as we’ve established. If we’re genuinely angry with each other, we won’t have to fake being broken up.” He never slowed down. I practically ran beside him. Branches slapped my face. Acting genuinely angry was getting easier, and I may have forgotten some of my resolve to patch things up with him. “While we’re at it,” I said, “why don’t you call me a bitch like you did a couple of nights ago?”

“Why don’t I call you a slut for hooking up with me just to get Sean?” he snapped.

“Why don’t I call you a slut for hooking up with a different girl every month for the past year?” I yelled at him. “I’ll bet your so-called Secret Make-Out Hideout isn’t even a secret. You’ve had your license for three weeks. You probably took Rachel there before you took me.” He stopped, finally, and gave me a shocked look. Ha—he could dish out the jealous accusations, but he couldn’t take them.

But I didn’t want to one-up Adam. I wanted to be with him and make out with him again, preferably sooner rather than later. “Hey.” I reached over to grab his hand.

Before I could touch him, he dodged away and jogged ahead again. We’d reached the edge of the forest. He barreled right through the blackberry brambles and onto the road.

“Adam,” I called, determined he wouldn’t get away before we could talk this out. I ran after him, hardly noticing the briars scratching my legs. I emerged onto the road in bright sunlight and the full glare of my dad and Frances, who were holding hands.

My first thought when I saw them was, Why are they walking together? Frances was supposed to be my dad’s employee. I was used to seeing them talking, but never touching. en I remembered Frances had not been my na

The instant I saw Lori’s dad and Frances across the hot asphalt road, I spun around, hoping Lori was still hidden by the trees.

She stood right behind me, in full view. And if my expression matched hers, we couldn’t have looked more guilty.

I turned back around. Her dad’s face was even worse. Glaring at me, he worked his jaw like he was going to say something, but he wanted to make sure he’d thought of the worst possible insult first. He turned redder and seemed to swell, like all his holes were plugged up and the pressure had nowhere to escape.

He opened his mouth.

“It was my fault,” I said quickly.

“I know!” he roared.

At the same time, Lori stepped in front of me and muttered, “Wrong thing to say, Adam.”

“Right.” I put my hand on Lori’s shoulder and pushed her an arm’s length away so it wouldn’t look like I was hiding behind her. “It’s nobody’s fault, because we didn’t do anything wrong.”

Her dad brought his hands together and popped a knuckle.

“Trevor,” Frances said soothingly, rubbing her hand on his back. But she was looking hard at me over her glasses, telling me upstanding citizens did not act this way.

When we were kids, that look from Frances could make Lori and her brother behave, and sometimes even my brothers, but I never seemed to get the message.

“I saw you coming out of the woods,” Lori’s dad shouted at me. “Together!”

“We weren’t rolling in the leaves or anything. Look, no evidence.” I put my other hand on Lori’s other shoulder and turned her around backward, hoping against hope she didn’t have scratches from the tree on her bare back, or bark on her butt.

“Get your hands off my daughter.”

Either I jerked away from her at the force of his words, or she started out from under my hands. I wasn’t sure which. She and Frances and I stared at Lori’s dad in horror.

He was excitable, yes, and he had yelled at me before, yes, but always about safety issues. He thought I was going to set his house on fire with bottle rockets or run my four-wheeler into his Beamer again. When he hollered at me about that stuff, his voice pitched into a whine like a woman.

This was not that voice. This was a full-bodied boom that meant business. He looked and sounded like a big dog defending his territory.

“Here’s what you did wrong, Adam,” he barked. “I told your parents to make it clear to you that you were not to see Lori again. You did it anyway. at’s what you did wrong.”

“But—,” I started.

“Shhh,” Lori said beside me.

“That’s—,” I started again.

“Shut up,” Lori muttered.

“—ridiculous,” I finished.

“Adam, stop talking,” Lori said.

“Adam, stop talking,” Frances repeated.

I knew I was only getting myself in more trouble. Lori’s dad unballed and balled his fists, daring me to talk back. I was beyond caring. I was right and he was wrong. I said, “Of course I’m going to see her. I live next door.”

“Not for long,” he shouted. “Lori, go with Frances. Go home.”

I balled my own fists then. Now it sounded like Lori was a dog.

Lori gave me a wide-eyed warning look, then obediently jogged a few steps forward and walked with Frances toward her house.

Her dad turned to me. “You. Follow me.”

“Woof,” I said.

Lori and Frances both stopped under the trees and looked back at me. We all half expected Lori’s dad to really blow his top this time.

He didn’t. His balled fists expanded into claws that wanted to strangle me. Then he turned without a word and headed for my house.

Lori widened her eyes at me and nodded after her dad, urging me to go on. Frances pointed at him and gave me the stern na

I followed. But I let him get a good thirty feet ahead of me so he’d worry. at far away, he couldn’t hear my footsteps across the pine needles. He kept looking over his shoulder to make sure I hadn’t escaped. We continued past my house, all the way down to the marina. He waited for me outside the office door with his arms folded. When I caught up with him, he swung open the office door, ready to feed me to my parents.

But the office was empty. He pointed me inside. I slouched past him and collapsed into my mother’s desk chair. I’d been so keyed up for a shouting match, I was almost disappointed it was delayed. For a few minutes, anyway.