Seventeen
River
Deciding to go to the Banga Banga music festival on the Fourth of July is both the best and worst idea I’ve probably ever had.
Since the tickets were so cheap, it’s extremely packed, but I’m here with Summer, so it kind of makes up for it. And our favorite band Get A Grip! is also hitting the stage soon.
But the best part of this evening so far is probably how excited Summer is right now, just from munching on a twenty-dollar funnel cake that’s drowning in strawberries.
It took us a good five minutes to decide who’d be paying. I said I should pay because I invited her here. Summer thought she should pay because I bought her ticket.
She has no idea that I’d go into debt for her.
We finally agreed on splitting the cost and now we’re sitting on a corner of a bench that a few other people are sitting on. Seats are limited here so obviously we’re going to take wherever we can get and I’m not complaining. With such limited space, Summer has no choice but to sit on my lap.
Now we’re picking off bites of our sweet treat while we engage in our usual argument about The Rolling Stones being overrated.
Summer counters that Led Zeppelin, her personal favorite rock band, isn’t that lyrically challenged while also reminding me that at least they aren’t essentially a cover band.
“I don’t know why we keep having this conversation,” Summer groans, throwing her head back. “You act like you’re The Rolling Stones’s biggest fan.”
I gasp. “And what if I am?”
“Oh please, you’ve listened to ‘Who’s Next’ every day since sixth grade, and let’s not forget when they remastered the album a few years ago. You didn’t shut up about it.”
“You’re just jealous that my favorite band is still active.” I have no problem reminding her of that.
She looks at me with a smug look on her face. “So you finally admit it—The Rolling Stones isn’t your favorite. You just like arguing.”
“I plead the fifth.”
She laughs and pulls another piece of funnel cake off and pops it into her mouth. There’s a content smile on her face.
Her eyes narrow when she catches me staring. “What?”
“Nothing, I just like seeing you enjoy yourself.”
She rolls her eyes and licks powdered sugar from her fingers. The sight has me shifting under her.
“This”—she gestures toward the funnel cake—“is all part of my summer training.”
“Oh, yeah? How is that going by the way?” I ask, my voice smug because I know the excuse that she used to stay here in Ellingbrook.
Summer flicks my chest but she doesn’t even try to hold up her argument anymore. Not when I know she’s aware that I know her like the back of my hand.
“It’s not that I don’t want to see them,” she admits and I don’t want her to feel like I’m accusing her of anything, ’cause I’m not. I just wish she knew that she didn’t have to lie about the reason she didn’t want to go back home.
“I know not going back home is kind of a dick move but…I just feel so useless. What can I do? Just sit there and watch Dad be sick? It kills me.”
Summer has never once in her life been useless to anyone. All she has to do is exist and life is better.
“Summer.” I rest my hand on her thigh. She meets my gaze. “I’m sure that just being there would be more than enough. And I know you don’t believe that—so I’ll just believe it for both of us. Okay?”
She smiles gently and surprises me by pressing her lips to mine with a light peck. Then she pulls away like nothing happened and goes back to picking at our food.
I’m now tempted to get her into my car and drive her back home just so she can see her parents. I know she’s dying to go but won’t allow herself that.
But just from the way Summer goes back to looking around the festival and admiring the outfit choices of other festival goers, I know that she’s finished with this conversation. At least for tonight.
Then she gasps. “River! They have a photobooth.”
I look around and indeed see that there are a few photobooths in the distance. I smile at her. “Oh yeah, we’re definitely doing that.”
Summer is quick to get to her feet and link our arms together. I toss what’s left of our funnel cake into a nearby trash can. We weave through the crowd together, making a beeline for the black photobooth off to the side.
I pull back the curtain and gesture for Summer to get in before I do. It’s all nostalgic.
We’re not new to the photobooth game. I think collectively Summer, Lily, and I probably have over twenty photo strips just from the photobooth at our state fair alone.
I even keep one of the three of us in my wallet. The one we took the summer before our senior year of high school.
“Alright.” I slide in next to Summer on the small bench. “What are we thinking? Serious? Dramatic? Ridiculous?”
Summer taps her chin in thought even though I already know the answer. “All of the above.” She smiles.
Summer taps her card before I can say anything and I narrow my eyes, but I know that we’re not only going to take one round of photos and I’m determined to pay for the next.
Summer wraps one of her arms around my neck and rests the other on my cheek. She pushes our faces together and I let her.
Three, two, one…Flash!
During the next countdown, Summer keeps us in the same position but this time she turns her head and kisses my cheek. I can’t help but smile and let the camera capture the moment.
Summer then moves and climbs back onto my lap and kisses me again. We don’t even bother to move in a different position for the fourth photo.
“I didn’t know it would be those kinds of pictures,” I mumble against her lips.
“Yeah.” She smiles. “Our little secret.”
She pecks my lips again and reaches to swipe her card again, but I quickly swat her hand away. She doesn’t even try to argue it, knowing she’s been caught red-handed.
We take a few more rounds of photos and when I look at the time, I realize that we still have a little bit before Get A Grip! is on stage.
“One more strip?” I suggest and Summer quickly nods.
We’ve already done ones where we’re just smiling or playfully serious, but I should’ve known better when it comes to Summer. Because the way she’s scooting closer to me, now back to sitting by my side, is highly suspicious. Or at least, the way she’s trying to hide her grin is.
My eyes narrow when she rests her hand on my thigh, but I allow myself to relax when Summer rests her head against my shoulder. Right at the last second, before the camera goes off, she decides to bring her hand higher up my thigh and lightly squeezes me through my jeans.
“Summer!” My eyes widen and my head snaps in her direction when I realize that specific shot just captured the shock on my face.
I can’t tell if she’s laughing at me or the fact that she got the reaction she wanted.
“Quick,” Summer says while climbing back into my lap, facing the camera. I’m not even sure why she bothered to move off me in the first place. I just let it happen because I’m kind of stunned right now.
Summer takes my hands and rests one on her neck and the other on her breast.
“What are you doing?” My voice comes out strained as she purposely starts to grind down on me.
The picture is taken and she doesn’t bother to answer me. Instead, she quickly stands just to sit back down, except now she’s straddling me.
I should care more about the fact that the only thing separating us from the public is a curtain, but I don’t. Not when the feel of her hips against mine feels this good.
Summer kisses me again and I let her nip at my bottom lip as she dips her hand between us, reaching into my jeans and finding my dick.
I can’t help but groan into her mouth. I see the flash of the camera from behind my closed eyelids, but neither of us stop.
Summer simply continues grinding down on me.
She kisses down my neck, her hand still slowly moving up and down my shaft.
I don’t even bother to look at the camera anymore.
Instead, my attention is now fully on Summer.
She slips her hand out of my jeans and I can’t help but whine. “Please don’t stop.”
Summer swipes the tip of her tongue along my bottom lip. “Wanna play a game with me?” Just from her tone, I know that this is going to be a game I both love and hate.
“What did you have in mind?” My voice is hoarse.
She starts grinding her hips down on me slowly. Methodically.
“Let’s see who comes first.” She presses down into me harder. “Just from this.”
I can already tell I’m going to lose but I’ll happily play along.
I grip her hips. “What does the winner get?”
Her hips continue, not once faltering.
“Well, what do you want?” she asks, and I don’t really have to think about it much because all I can picture is her in the backseat of my car. Spread out. I want to feel her against my tongue and her head between my thighs.
“I want to taste you again,” I admit.
Her hips falter for only a second. “Okay, but if I win, you’ll finally take that shower with me.”
Well, isn’t that just the perfect win-win situation.
“Deal,” I chuckle but it’s quickly replaced with a moan.
Summer rests her hand over my mouth, the rocking of her hips quickening and my grip on her hips tightens. I don’t even know how this feels so good. Our clothes aren’t off. That’s a barrier I’m completely aware of.
There’s a full-on festival going on around us and yet this feels like ecstasy. I could become addicted to her hot breath against my mouth.
If we weren’t so close, the music would drown out our breathing. I rest my hand on the side of her neck, using the other to help guide her movements.
“Fuck,” I mumble against her hand. “I need you to go faster.”
I really should be trying to win right now but I’m sure if I asked Summer really nicely, she’ll let me taste her regardless of my failure.
Summer chuckles. “If I go any faster, I’m going to shake the whole damn booth.”
I shake my head and kiss her. “I don’t care.”
She does as asked, her grip on my shoulder firming. With each rock of her hips, her knees thud against the wall behind me but she doesn’t stop and I don’t ask her to.
My thighs clench when Summer bites the skin on my neck, part of my shirt balled up in her fist.
I don’t concern myself with anything outside the booth. Not when she whines against me. Nothing exists but her and the pressure building in my lower stomach. It grows higher and higher until I finally come crashing down, cursing her name against her hand.
Shortly after, Summer’s thighs shake and tighten around my hips. She lets herself go, burying her face in the crook of my neck to keep her own moans quiet.
Her hand falls from my mouth and I laugh breathlessly.
“You lost,” she breathes against me.
“Now I’m forced to shower with you?” I tsk. “Bummer.”
***
“Thanks for carrying me,” Summer says from her spot on my back.
I gently squeeze her thighs where I’m holding her in place on my back.
It took all of three seconds for her to convince me to give her a piggyback ride to the car.
She claimed her feet hurt from standing all day, which I find funny because Summer found every opportunity to not be on her feet as much.
Whether that was leaning against me, sitting on the grass, or finding any open seat she could spot.
For someone who’s constantly active, my girl has weak ankles.
I maneuver my way through the crowd as best as I can. Most people have stayed behind at the stage Get A Grip! was performing on to take pictures for social media, but Summer and I decided to try and make a run for the parking lot before it became near impossible to get out.
“Thank you for coming with me,” I say.
Summer scoffs. “Why wouldn’t I come? Being outside surrounded by good music with my best friend? Not something that needed much convincing.”
As we get older, I’m convinced that Summer would rather be doing anything than hanging out with me, so I’m still surprised when she says yes to stuff like this.
“Still.” I set Summer down in front of the passenger door of my car. “It wouldn’t have been as much fun without you.”
Watching Summer dance and sing her heart out to Get A Grip! was the highlight of my evening. I didn’t even mind the fireworks eroding into the sky. Not when Summer made it her mission to cover my eyes with her hands, as if I couldn’t just close them to keep from being blinded.
Summer sighs dramatically. “What on earth would you do without me, Jaejoon?”
She presses a kiss to my cheek and patiently waits for me to open her car door.
Once she’s safely tucked away in my car, I press my hand to my cheek, as if Summer and I haven’t done far more dirty things within the last two hours than a simple kiss to the cheek.
But the warmth her lips left feels more like a silent promise than anything.
A promise that she’s willing to stick around.
Which is all I could ask for because honestly, I don’t know what I would do without her.