chapter 5

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"I can't believe summer is over," I say, the tall grass blowing back and forth as the sun fully sets. Dusk coats the air in the most taunting way, as if to tease Sam and I that this summer is coming to its final close.

It's Monday. Labor Day. School begins tomorrow, and I feel a nervous knot in the pit of my stomach although Sam tries really hard to get rid of it for me. Turns out, he was right. Living in denial isn't healthy, not even in moderation. Because I still have to face tenth grade tomorrow, and I only know three people. Stella, Holly, and Max not included. They're seniors, so they won't even look in my direction, not that I want them to.

Sam twists his lips to the side and bites the inside of his cheek, looking at me with concern with his legs crossed before him. I know he knows that I'll be just fine, but I can sense his worry. He wants this to go smoothly for me. His regard is enough to make me feel even a little bit better about it.

Our knees almost touch and it reminds me of last night, our legs gently relaxed against each other's in the bathtub. I wake up early in the morning with my head on his shoulder, but it doesn't scare me. I just drift back to sleep until he wakes a few hours later.

"It went too fast," he admits sadly. "Way too fast."

"Do you think I'll make any friends?" I ask.

He chuckles. "Sure. But what's wrong with me?"

I roll my eyes, hitting his thigh lightly with my balled up fist. "Nothing, Sam. I just mean girl friends. I don't want to bother you and Bennett and Noah all school year. I already invaded your summer."

"You didn't invade anything," he shakes his head. "This was the best summer I've ever had, Chandler. Truly."

I tuck my bottom lip behind my top teeth and look down at my bare legs. I'm going to miss constantly being tan or sunburned, but I'm especially going to miss the freckles on Sam's face from the sun's rays. That, and the way his eyes look in the light. But I'm sure fall and winter and spring will look nice on him too.

I'm really going to miss all of the days we spend together. We'll be in the same school and we'll still be neighbors and hopefully, he'll still call me his best friend. But it could change, and I hope wholeheartedly that it never does. Ever. I'd never trade this friendship for anything.

And while I'm naming things I'm going to miss, I'm really, really going to miss the way Sam talks to me in the brush. He's always been so kind, but something changes when we're here. I think he feels just as invincible as I do, like he can say anything and everything on his mind without consequence.

"Me too," I admit. My voice is almost a whisper when I say, "Sam, I'm scared for tomorrow."

"What are you scared of?" he looks to me with even more concern than before.

Shrugging, I shake my head and twirl the ends of my hair around my index finger. "I don't know. What if other people don't like me?"

"Are you crazy?" his eyes are so focused on me, it feels like he's impaling me with his stare. It's so accusing, like I'm the worst person in the world for even suggesting such a thing. "What's not to like? You're so funny and nice and easy to talk to. They'd be insane not to like you. Okay? Don't think like that about yourself."

"I don't know," I still don't look at him. "It's just—"

"No, don't," he interrupts me, something he very rarely does. Something he also doesn't do often is grab my hand the way he just did, holding it in his. It's enough to make me look up at him again. "Don't do that. You're going to be fine, okay? Tomorrow is going to be great. Plus, I'll be there too. We can even sit together at lunch. Only if you're okay with Noah and Bennett being there."

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