It's almost seven when I get back to the cabin. Before I open the door, I tell Summer to take her ass to her room because I have something she can't see. She tells me she'll kill me in my sleep if it's a live animal. I don't know. Something about barely keeping her kid brother alive.
I take the bags to my room and hide them because anyone can be snoopy under the right circumstances.
There is a bag I take with me to the living room, though. A bag of pure junk food.
When the couch creaks in protest to me sitting my ass on its scratchy fabric, I hear Summer's bare feet making a little noise as she comes to sit with me.
I raise a brow. "What if I was wrapping something?"
She shrugs, picks up the bag of snacks to sit before placing it in her lap, and starts digging through it.
I bring an arm behind the couch and she scoots closer to me, pulling her legs up. When she lays her head on my shoulder and hugs my side, I know something's up.
With a frown, I hold her head to me. I hate when she's upset. It breaks my heart to see her like this. A part of me wants to ask what's wrong, but so much is wrong, isn't it? How can I possibly make her feel better? I bet she feels like her whole life fell apart when she left Mason.
Sometimes it's better not to say a thing. But when I was alone all the time, I would pretend I hated people trying to get in my head and figure out why I was depressed. And she was alone for a long time. She needs someone to ask her those questions and to hold her. Luckily, I'm a fine multitasker.
"Are you all right?"
She doesn't say anything, so I don't push. All I do I squeeze her to me and turn on the TV like I planned to do since the moment I got here.
We pig out on various chips and candies. And at some point, I go make us sandwiches so that we have something decent in our stomachs
We finish two movies and a few episodes of Winx Club before she's smiling again.
There's a mess of food everywhere, but I abandon her and the trash to grab the stuff I got for her.
I'm oblivious and of the male species, but I am also deeply infatuated by all that is my Summer. That is to say that I pay attention.
She's looking at me as I walk into the living room again. First is the card and the other little thing. Then I'll bring the other stuff. The expensive stuff she'll pretend she hates me for buying her. I don't want to bombard her.
I hold out the little box with the tiniest bow I could find on it. She narrows her eyes at me suspiciously as I give her the box and card.
I can't help but smile. It's only a card and a small box, but she thinks I put the world's smallest snake in there or something. That could have been a good idea. Unfortunately, I can't be that evil on the spot.
She smiles up at me when she notices the Hello Kitty sticker. Are you kidding? is written all over her face.
"Do I open the card or box first?" She asks, patting the spot next to her so I'll sit. I do so she doesn't grow suspicious about whether or not I bought her anything else that I might need to go get.
"Card." I swallow.
She'll hate it. But I think I'll survive?
"Can I read it out loud, or would that be embarrassing? I'm not good at reading in my head."
"Of course."
She clears her throat teasingly, bringing the paper closer to her face.
"Happy nineteen, sunshine. We've only met this summer, but I can tell you that before summer, my life was so bland. I'm so happy to have met you and spent so much time with someone as effing ethereal as you. You've been such a breath of fresh air for me, and sometimes I can't believe I live on the same planet as you, my queen." She laughs at that part, gaze flicking to mine for a second. "I'm not sure what to write, but I do know all the things I like about you. Ahem. You're strong and determined. You are open-minded and accepting. Not once have you ever made me feel like I didn't matter or I wasn't enough. I have only ever seen you love and love. Give and give.
"You've introduced me to things I would have never thought I'd enjoy like makeup and Gilmore Girls. I can't thank you enough for that. Summer, you have brought out my best self, helped me to understand myself better. And in learning to listen to not only you, but also myself..."
She trails off, looking up at me with tears welling in her eyes. I smile a little because she looks so happy right now, but also so confused. And I'm shitting my pants, I think.
This took a lot of courage to write out. So much that when I went to crumble up the paper and throw it away, I couldn't. I put my heart and soul into that writing and throwing that piece of paper would have been like giving up on my feelings for Summer.
But she kissed me for a reason, cared enough to bicker with me, liked me enough to stay with me even after a free cabin opened up. She's so good and so worth it. I couldn't not tell her I feel. It would be wrong, and it would rob me of every amazing feeling and thought that's going to go through my body when she says yes.
God, I hope she says yes.
Her voice breaks, and she speaks a little louder to cover it up. "But also myself, I've realized that admire you. I envy you. I love you. There is no part of me that doesn't want this. I want you. All of you, and nothing can change that—I hope you know that. I'll never be able to do how I feel about you any justice, but maybe the pictures in the book will give an idea. Again, happy birthday."
She laughs as she reads: "P.S. Don't reject me."
Before she continues onto the box, she wraps her arms around me and tells me she won't reject me. I don't believe her. I'm too nervous to.
She opens the box with the book of small pictures. Her head tilts as she flips open the little black book.
"We haven't taken that many photos together, but I got my favorite printed. And..." I clear my throat awkwardly. Liking her can be hard, okay? "I hope we get to take more?"
That earns me a giggle under her breath.
Summer flips and she flips, and she flips. She's got perma awwwww face, and that has me feeling more accomplished than the fact that I can afford everything I got for her.
My stomach tightens as she flips to the very last page of the book.
"Will you be my girlfriend?" She mumbles.
I gasp, touch my hand to her shoulder. Joking would really help with my nerves.
"So suddenly? Well... if you insist."
She smacks my shoulder before cupping my face and kissing me on the mouth. It's a short, sweet kiss. But it's more than I would have ever imagined I'd get.
"Yes. I'll be your girlfriend."
Those words alone have my head spinning. I almost start crying along with her. With what else I have planned, I need to stay emotionally sober, though. If I'm not grounded, she'll get the best of me.
"There's more." I whisper, pulling away.
I can practically feel her gaping at me as I make my way back to my room. When I come back with a larger gift bag and a smaller one, she looks up at me like I'm crazy for spending money on her. Her eyes are sparkling, telling a different story—which is exactly why I'll never take anything she says seriously.
While she pulls out the tissue paper, I conjure an escape plan just encase she gets feral.
Her lips part once she's through with taking out the bunch of pencils, pens, markers. They were more expensive than my car. An exaggeration, but shit. They're not that—
"Oh, my God! What the hell? I've been wanting these! Did Mason tell you?"
I shake my head even though a part of me wants to lie and tell her he chipped into the idea.
She thanks me. Then she pulls out the last thing in the small bag. It's only a notebook.
"I thought a notebook would be a cool little something. You could use it write songs, if you do that. Or even journal. Journaling helped me a lot with my mental health, so..." I trail of gesturing to the other bag.
She pulls her lips into her mouth, leaning into me and hugging me for what feels like the millionth time. Not that I'm complaining.
When she pulls out the laptop I bought her, she blinks at me.
"Aw, that's cool. You got yourself a new laptop."
I roll my eyes and shove it back toward her when she tries pushing it to me.
"No." Is all she says.
"Yes."
"Not a chance."
"Just take it!" I laugh.
She frowns, tears in her eyes again. "You bought me a computer."
I smile and nod at her. "Yours is old. Really old."
She nods once, the tears falling.
The crying isn't happy now. It's the kind of crying that's a plea. The sounds she makes are desperate and left by an irreparable kind of damage. She reaches for my hand, bringing it into her lap and squeezing like my skin may very well be her anchor.
My heart swells as I pull her into me.
She didn't cry like this for Mason. This is worse. This is about something intangible, maybe otherworldly. She clings to me like she doesn't know what else to do.
I run my fingers through her hair, listening to her silent crying.
It takes her all of five minutes to collect herself. She wipes tears away, seemingly avoiding eye contact. Is she embarrassed? For what? Having emotions?
"My aunt and mom didn't... get along well leading up to the years my mom passed away. And she... she came to the house one year on Mom's birthday a couple years ago bearing gifts. She didn't know my mom was dead, and I ended up with the laptop." She tells me. Huh.
My first instinct is to mentally pummel Summer's dad in the face. How do you "forget" to tell your sister-in-law that your wife died? That dude is seriously something else.
Something else I don't understand is why she brought that up, or why it made her cry.
"Why'd that make you sad?"
She tries looking away again, but I take her face in my hands.
"Because it's Mom's birthday tomorrow, and I'm not going to go see her with Mason like we always do."
My heart falls straight through my body before picking itself back up when an idea strikes me.
"We'll go get Mason. We can have a picnic at the cemetery or something. Does that sound okay?"
She shakes her head, smiling softly. "You don't understand. We always get there by the time it's her birthday. Twelve-forty, midnight."
I pull out my phone to look at the time. It's half past ten.
So maybe it's a two hour drive. Truth be told, she's totally worth any ticket.
"We'll make it if I speed." I say, getting up from the couch. I hold my hand out for her, waiting for her to shut down the world's dumbest idea.
Instead, she grabs my hand, eyes glistening with an emotional I can't quite place. All I know is that she's looking at me the way whoever first saw the stars must have looked at the sky when they discovered the distant diamonds. And I never want her to stop looking at me like that.
"What about Mason?" She asks when we get in the car.
"We'll leave your dad a note on the counter and a twenty dollar bill for the weekend without Mason."
She seems to think that's funny.