Eighteen
River
It’s a beautiful day out. Maybe a little too sunny outside but my sunglasses make the overexposure bearable. It’s a nice seventy-five degrees out, the birds are chirping, and I’m on my skateboard. To top it all off, Summer is smiling. Which also happens to be one of my favorite things.
It’s not like it’s rare to see her smile but every time she does it, I can’t believe that she has blessed me with seeing that sunshine smile and warm laugh.
Sometimes Summer worries a little too much about school. Swimming. Her dads. Lily. Even me. But I love that part of her just as much as the rest. If there’s no overachieving then there’s no Summer, but it is nice to see her relaxed and not consumed with the idea of needing to always be useful.
I’m always content with Summer just existing.
“You know you’re on a skateboard, right?” Summer states while stealing a quick glance back at me. She complains but continues to pull me along on my skateboard. “Why am I pulling you?”
“My legs hurt.” They don’t. I just like holding Summer’s hand. “So unless you wanna carry me, Pretty Girl, this is the next best thing.”
I wait for her to scold me for the nickname but she doesn’t. And now I’m thinking of other ways I can try to sneak the name in.
Our hands remain linked as she continues to drag me along. I can’t help but smile when I hear her mumbling the lyrics to “Sk8er Boi.”
With it being a little too bright outside for me to drive comfortably and the sun feeling too good on my skin, I decided to just walk to the grocery store.
Walking being relative.
Lucky for Summer—and very unluckily for me—the grocery store isn’t too far away. In fact, it only takes us a matter of fifteen minutes to get there. I eventually have to get off my skateboard and Summer drops my hand as we head into the store. Within seconds, I miss her touch.
“Alrighty.” Summer grabs a cart and I drop my board in. “What’s on the list?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, you have it.”
Summer stops abruptly, causing me to bump into her. Her hair whips me in the face, hitting me with her sweet scent.
“No.” She narrows her eyes. “Moose gave it to you.”
I feel around the pocket of my jeans and even look in my wallet. “Yeah, I don’t have that.”
“Well, do you remember what Moose and Beth wanted?” she asks.
“Not a clue.”
I’m still trying to remember even being given the list of snacks.
Tonight is game night. Summer, Moose, Bethany, and I occasionally play a couple rounds of Mario Kart every few weeks or so.
We’re all too competitive for our own good but apparently, we’ve decided that game night means serious business.
Tonight, though, Moose’s younger brother, Thatcher, is joining in on the party.
I think he might be inviting somebody too so that the teams are even.
Summer’s and my one job was to get the snacks for tonight and somehow we’ve already failed. Well, technically I have but Summer and I are a duo right now, so I have no problem dragging her into this failure.
Summer sighs, leaning her elbows against the handle on the cart. We begin to walk in an aimless direction just so we’re out of the way of other people trying to enter the store.
“Should we admit defeat and text them, or should we just wing it?”
“Summer, sweetheart, have you met me? We’re obviously going to wing it.”
Her smile is wide and bright. It warms my chest in a way only she seems to be able to know. “Alright, fine, where to first?”
I grab a random box of bakery cookies and toss it in the cart, quickly getting started.
“That entirely depends. What kind of snacks are we thinking? Granola bars? Protein shakes? Fruit tray? Or maybe you’re feeling a little frisky and we go with Halo Top.”
“Halo Top is good,” Summer defends her ice cream choices. Not that it’s bad but I’m sorry, it just can’t beat the real thing.
Summer nudges my shoulder but surprises me by adding her own sweet treat into the cart. Brownies.
“No.” Summer smiles. “Tonight I’m joining the junk food train.”
I pull back on the cart handle just a bit to get Summer to stop pushing it. “You know I’m only teasing, right? I want you to eat what you feel comfortable eating.”
I fully expect Summer to look disappointed or flustered or to even brush me off, but instead she continues to smile.
“Treating myself every once in a while isn’t a bad thing. I guess I’ve just been so busy I forgot and besides, I’ve been craving Nutter Butters for a whole year now,” Summer admits.
I want to make sure she knows I genuinely don’t care what she eats. I know she keeps track of nutrients and meals so closely that she can perform her best in the water. I want her to also know that it doesn’t need to take over her life.
Summer turns into the chip aisle. I’m already scoping out her childhood favorite.
“I’m not doing it just because you tease me.
” Summer crouches down, reaching for the familiar orange and green bag.
“I just think that since coming to Ellingbrook, I’ve been a little…
stuck up.” She laughs at herself. “I mean, you, I, and Lily used to get into all sorts of trouble. I just miss how we were when we were kids.”
When we were kids?
People would probably have described us as reckless. Loud. Troublemakers. Maybe even a little annoying.
Then we had Lily, who never initiated the troublemaking but she sure as hell played along when needed.
“Alright then.” I pull my sunglasses down a bit to see if I can handle the light in here. I indeed cannot. “Let’s go get those Nutter Butters.”
***
Thatcher Creshaw stands at about six feet tall. He’s not built terribly large, almost the same size as me if not a little bigger, and he plays golf for fun.
I’m not usually a fighter but I think I could take this guy.
For whatever reason, Moose decided that he didn’t want his annoying younger brother on his team, so he stuck him on me and Summer’s. Then Moose ended up taking Thatcher’s friend, Chris, onto Bethany’s and his team.
I’m pretty sure it’s because Thatcher sucks ass. In more ways than one.
Summer has been sitting next to me for the past hour, but I get up for five minutes to head to the bathroom, and now Thatcher is sitting right next to her. In my spot. Entirely too close.
I don’t like the tightness that consumes my chest. Or the shaking in my hands and the buzzing in my bones.
I used to think it was just because I was protective, but then I realized I never felt the same way about Lily.
Sure, if someone was around that made Lily uncomfortable, then I’d do what I could to get her out of that situation, but I’ve never wanted to physically assault someone before. Thatcher will probably win but I’ll still try anyway if he doesn’t move his hand from Summer’s thigh.
I’m now sitting on the recliner because Thatcher didn’t make an effort to move and to my surprise, neither did Summer.
She remains by Thatcher’s side. Maybe what’s irking me about this whole thing is that I know Summer can handle her own.
She can be one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met until you push her the wrong way.
So, to have Thatcher press up against her and for her to not tell him to fuck off, makes me believe that she likes it.
Summer is laughing and smiling, warming up the room.
And well, damn. I’ve been selfish enough to think that those things only belong to me.
“River?” Moose chucks a pillow at me. “Dude, you’re first player. Hit start.”
I rip my gaze away from Summer and try to focus on the TV screen. I clear my throat. “Oh, yeah, sorry man.”
I try really, really hard.
But my attention keeps drifting toward Summer and Thatcher. The two aren’t even paying attention to anything but each other, laughing at god knows what. My heart is thumping in my ears, far too loud for me to make out what they’re saying.
My jaw clenches.
I’m not an idiot. I understand the feeling I’m experiencing right now.
I can pinpoint the fact that I hate Thatcher touching Summer, and that she’s allowing it.
And then I’m angry at myself because Summer has the right to do whatever she wants, but Thatcher can’t just come in and take what’s left of the summer with my girl.
I get another pillow chucked at me. Moose looks at me as if I committed treason because my character has stopped moving altogether. My grip on the controller tightens and now I have an audience to my pouting.
I should be more embarrassed than I am but when I take another look at Summer, she’s not confused or worried. An amused grin is present on her face. And then her tongue swirls around the sucker that she’s been sucking on for the past twenty minutes.
“Is everything okay, River?” Bethany asks, genuine concern in her voice.
I clear my throat again and set the controller down. “Yeah, sorry. I just think that the TV settings are hurting my eyes a bit.”
Fantastic. Now I’m lying and using my light sensitivity as an excuse.
“Shit.” Moose’s eyes widen. “Sorry, man. Why didn’t you say anything?” He reaches for the TV remote and starts messing with the screen settings.
I really shouldn’t continue being an ass by letting Moose mess around with something that is perfectly fine for my eyes. It’d probably just make it even harder for everyone else to see, but instead of saying any of this, I look back at Summer to find her already watching me.
I swallow the lump in my throat, now uncomfortable in my jeans.
Then Summer decides to slowly pull the sucker in and out of her mouth while staring right at me as Thatcher continues talking.
I don’t really care enough to tune in to know what the hell he’s yapping about.
Something about his car he’s fixing up or something.
I couldn’t care less, honestly. Not when Summer makes a show of the candy’s stickiness on her lips while Thatcher’s hand is still on her thigh.
“I’m going to head to the bathroom,” Summer says out of nowhere, but she’s still not breaking eye contact with me.
Thatcher squeezes her thigh and grins. “Need any help in there?”
Chris laughs, stirring his friend on but Moose doesn’t seem amused at all. He reaches over Bethany to flick his brother’s forehead.
“Don’t be gross, jackass.”
Thatcher puts his hands up in defense and the weight on my chest begins to settle at the sight of him no longer touching Summer.
Summer rolls her eyes and goes to stand up. “Thanks for the offer, Thatcher, but no.” Her tone is playful.
Instead of Summer walking around the coffee table from the easier side, she scoots past everyone else on the couch until she gets to me.
When she does, Summer conveniently trips, just enough for her to rest her hand on my thigh to regain her balance.
She doesn’t say anything, just keeps that damn sucker resting in her mouth.
Summer squeezes my thigh and then continues on her way like she’s innocent or something.
I thought that with her leaving it’d be easier for me to catch my breath or pay attention to the screen. Or even for me to remember that no matter how hot my skin feels, I can’t do anything about it because our friends are in very close proximity.
Resisting the urge to not follow Summer is near impossible.
She has to know what she’s doing, right?
Right?
What if I’m wrong? What if I follow her and I end up looking like an idiot because Summer tells me that this would be too much of a risk, and this is definitely not part of our deal.
But oh god, what if she lets me in? Not just into the bathroom, but into the spot between her legs where I can keep my dick warm inside of her.
Okay, fine. Fuck it. I can’t take this anymore.
I stand up a little too abruptly because everyone’s eyes are back on me.
“Sorry.” I clear my throat. “I can feel a headache coming on so I’m going to grab some meds.”
I really do seem to lie easily when I might have the chance to fuck Summer in my bathroom.
Neither Moose nor Bethany bat an eye, but Chris and Thatcher still don’t seem to understand the reasoning behind the specific TV settings or why I’d get a headache to begin with. They don’t seem to be able to retain any information I told them about my achromatopsia.
I didn’t even plan on telling them but Moose feels the need to point it out anytime someone comes over. I understand that he’s just trying to help, but I’ve gone twenty years of not telling most people.
Mainly because of people like Chris and Thatcher who started to point at things and ask me what color I saw, despite explaining that I don’t know. I don’t even need the excuse of wanting to get Summer alone to want to spend less time around either of them.
“Do you want us to wait for you?” Bethany asks.
“No.” I shake my head. “It’s yours and Thatcher’s turn anyway. I’ll be right back.”
And I’m already walking down the hallway toward Summer.