If the Summer Lasted Forever

by Shari L. Tapscott

  You have five more seconds, that little voice says, though even it’s losing intensity. Landon doesn’t hesitate this time, and to my surprise, neither do I. I pour myself into the kiss—hold nothing back, and he meets me.

  I lean against the counter, accidentally knocking a cup into the sink, making a dreadful racket. We abruptly break apart and blink at each other, both of us out of breath and slightly dazed. Suddenly, I realize how quiet it is. The grandfather clock in the living room ticks with each passing second, and the sound becomes deafening.

  Landon’s eyes search mine, and his fingers tighten on my sides. I gulp. We’ve crossed a line—a very serious line. And I want to do it again. In fact, I want to erase the line, scratch it out, wash it away and pretend we never created it.

  His chest moves with each labored breath, betraying the fact that he’s as shaken as I am. “Are we—”

  Before he can finish, I stand on my toes and wrap my hand around the back of his neck, dragging his lips down to mine. He chuckles darkly, a sound that makes my knees wobble, and meets me with fervor.

  And then the front door opens.

  “Lacey,” Mom calls. “Are you home? We’re back.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  We rip apart, eyes wide, staring at each other for several incredulous seconds before Landon leaps back and jumps for the sink. He’s innocently washing out his shirt when Mom and Mark walk into the kitchen.

  Mom’s eyebrows jump when she sees Landon shirtless, but I lounge against the counter like it’s no big thing.

  “McKenna accidentally dumped an entire cake on him,” I explain, the picture of nonchalance. “I told him he could use our washer so the stain doesn’t set.”

  Mark gives me a look that says he’s onto us, but Mom’s face softens.

  “Oh, of course,” she says as she boots Landon out of the way. “Here. Let me take care of it for you. Lacey was such a mess when she was younger. I can get out just about any stain you put in front of me.”

  Usually, I’d be irritated with her blabbing that kind of information, but now I’m so relieved, I only pretend to look embarrassed.

  “Thanks, Mrs. Mo—” he cuts off when he sees the look on her face. “Cassie.”

  “It’s no problem. You’ll probably want to head back to your site before it gets too chilly. If you wait, you’ll freeze.”

  If Landon’s half as warm as I am, he’ll be fine.

  “I thought you were going to a movie,” I say absently.

  “Nothing was playing.” Mark pulls out a chair at the table. He’s still watching the two of us with suspicious eyes.

  “That’s too bad,” I murmur, and I mean it with all my heart. Then I say to Mom, “I’m going to walk back with Landon.”

  “That’s fine.” Mom glances over her shoulder at my fake-but-starting-to-seem-real boyfriend. “Will you ask your mom if she wants to come over for coffee tomorrow morning before we go into town?”

  “Will do,” Landon promises.

  We say our goodbyes, and I breathe a great big sigh of relief as soon as we’re out the door. We walk a few yards before I peek at Landon. “Are you cold?”

  He gives me a sideways look, smiling in a satisfied sort of way. “No. You?”

  “I’m good.”

  “Do you think your mom noticed the chocolate in your hair?” His smile grows just the tiniest bit wicked.

  Frantic, I raise a hand to my head. It must have smeared on me when we were…doing what we were doing.

  “Oh my goodness,” I say, groaning. No wonder Mark was looking at us like that.

  Landon laughs and wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me to his side as we walk. A breeze blows through the trees, and he holds me tighter, feigning a dramatic shiver.

  “Cold?” I ask, snuggling next to him with the excuse of keeping him warm—it’s bad business to let our campers freeze to death after all.

  “Frigid,” he bluffs, meeting my eyes. Then there’s another cool breeze, and he shudders for real. “Okay, that’s actually pretty cold.”

  I laugh as we continue to his campsite.

  “Could the two of you be any cuter?” Paige demands.

  I shift my phone and continue watering the planter in front of me. If I move even a foot, my cell will drop the call. The petunias are about to do the backstroke, but I don’t care because Landon’s weaseled his way into my life and become my very favorite topic of conversation.

  “And have you read the comments they got on that last video? You’re public enemy number one for a whole group of girls who were hoping Landon would fall in love with them.”

  I stay away from the comments. It’s better that way.

  “This is the part where you admit to your best friend that you’re head over heels for him,” she coaxes.

  Not happening. If I say it out loud…well, then I’ve said it out loud. And you can’t take that sort of thing back.

  No matter how true it might be.

  I’m doomed.

  “We’re excellent actors,” I hedge. “Seriously, I should make a career out of it.”

  “Liar,” she says with a laugh. “You are so gone for him.”

  I roll my eyes. This is why you shouldn’t have best friends—they know you too well.

  “Oh!” Paige exclaims suddenly. “I think Tanner’s here. I have to get the door before Trenton.”

  “Why exactly do you have to beat your brother to the front door?” I ask.

  “He doesn’t care for Tanner.”

  “Really.”

  “Stop. You know very well none of my brothers have ever liked anyone I’ve dated.”

  Which tells you the stellar taste Paige has in guys.

  “Best hurry then,” I tease. “Run little rabbit, beat your brother to the door.”

  “Bye!” she chirps, and then she’s gone.

  “Ladybugs are our friends.” Landon comes up behind me and pulls me into a hug, surprising me. “And we shouldn’t drown our friends.”

  Sure enough, a poor little rosy, spotted beetle is fighting for its life, clinging to a leaf that’s hanging in the pool of water I created.

  I shoot Landon a look over my shoulder and free myself from his arms so I can move the insect to safer territory.

  “Hi,” he says when I look back, his light green eyes bright. Spring eyes, that’s what they are. The color of soft, new grass and inviting meadows.

  Knock it off, Lacey.

  “Hi.” I slip my phone into my pocket and tug the hose down to the next barrel.

  Landon follows me. “Any reason in particular you felt the need to make a swamp in that barrel?”

  “I was talking to Paige.”

  “That doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

  “Did you come to criticize my gardening skills, or did you need something?”

  “Mostly, I came to criticize your gardening skills.”

  He leaps back when I point the hose at him and use my thumb to direct the spray. Recovering from his surprise quickly, he darts forward, soaking wet, trying to wrestle the hose from me.

  “No!” I yelp, laughing as he manages to point it right at me. The water is cold.

  A car slowly makes its way down the road, and we immediately stop, afraid we’ll spray it instead of each other. A man about my uncle’s age scowls at us as he rolls down the window. “That’s an irresponsible use of water.”

  “Sorry,” I say, biting back a different sort of response.

  Landon nods, looking contrite.

  With a beady-eyed glare, the man continues.

  Landon glances at me once the camper is out of earshot, trying not to smirk. “See that? You got us in trouble.”

  I shoot him a look.

  He leans close. “Imagine how horrified he would be if he knew you tried to murder a ladybug—one of the most beneficial of the garden insects.”

  Before I go back to my chore, I point the hose at him again—just for a moment. “Go away.”

  He holds up his hands, gr
inning as water drips from his chin. “Want to go into town and try out the miniature golf course after you get done working?”

  “It’s pretty run down.”

  “So that’s a yes?”

  I go back to watering the flowers instead of Landon and grin because my back is toward him. “Yes.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  “Is it real gold?” Caleb asks, skeptical of my activity. He narrows his eyes at the sand-filled kiddie pool.

  “No, but it kind of looks like gold,” I tell him.

  “And you can trade it in for prizes when we’re finished,” Landon adds.

  That’s enough to convince Caleb to grab a sand sifter and join the other kids, and I shoot Landon a grateful look.

  Our barbecue is in full swing. We’ve had a record turnout this year. Even people staying at the state park and hotels in town have stopped by. Uncle Mark’s grilling hot dogs, sausage, and hamburgers, and Mom’s cutting up watermelon and refilling massive platters. We always pick a charity to donate the money to, and this year it’s going to the new park and playground Gray Jay wants to build at the edge of Main.

  A little girl squeals when she finds her first piece of treasure, and Caleb promptly tells her it’s not real gold.

  “Caleb,” Landon warns. His brother looks over, giving him a “well, it’s not” look, and goes back to sifting sand.

  Despite himself, Caleb hollers with joy when he finds his first piece.

  Landon rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. Everyone is in good spirits. We’ve had enough rain in the last few days that the town’s fire department has decided it’s safe to set off the fireworks we had to skip on the Fourth of July, so it’s the first year out of several that we will get a display. The barbecue wraps up around five, and then we’re headed over to the lake. Mrs. Tillman and Mom have been hanging out together all afternoon, and it seems they’ve decided we’re going to sit together.

  I catch them flashing Landon and me indulgent looks, and that familiar feeling of guilt squeezes my chest. It didn’t seem like a big deal in the beginning, but now our fake relationship feels like exactly what it is—a lie.

  Or is it?

  This is why “It’s complicated” has become an official relationship status.

  “Your brother is smiling,” I tell Landon, nodding toward the gazebo. Hunter sits with a pretty girl about his age. They both eat popsicles that Uncle Mark brought out in a huge cooler about fifteen minutes ago.

  Landon pulls his phone from his pocket and snaps a picture. Then he grins at me. “Got to document these rare Happy Hunter sightings.”

  A little later, when we’re cleaning up the gold mining activity, Paige shows up.

  “Perfect timing,” I tell her. “Grab a side.”

  Silent and obedient, she grabs a side of the kiddie pool and helps Landon and me drag the whole thing behind the office. I glance at her, instantly aware something is wrong.

  Landon must sense it too. “I’m going to check on Caleb,” he says, “just to make sure he’s keeping himself out of trouble.”

  I wait until Landon’s away before I turn to Paige. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” she says, but she won’t meet my eyes.

  “Come on. I know you better than that.”

  She crosses her arms, and I realize she’s not wearing any makeup, and her shirt is one of her brother’s oversized T-shirts. She hasn’t dressed like this since she was fourteen.

  “Tanner wasn’t as wonderful as I thought,” she finally admits.

  “What did he do?” I ask, ready to hunt him down and make him hurt even though I don’t know what happened.

  She rubs the bridge of her nose, acting like she has an itch. With the way her eyes glisten, I’m afraid she’s trying not to cry. “I’m so stupid.”

  “You’re not stupid,” I say immediately, though I’m starting to get nervous. What happened?

  Her face crumples, and she blinks quickly as several tears run down her cheeks. “I thought he liked me—like, really liked me. Then he just stopped calling, and this morning he admitted he has a girlfriend.”

  I suck in a breath. It’s just like Thomas all over again.

  “He said he feels guilty, and that he loves her, and he can’t see me anymore.”

  I stare at her, genuinely hurting for her.

  “You were right,” she says, wiping away tears. “You can’t trust summer boys. I was an idiot.”

  “No.” I hug her, feeling ready to cry myself. I know exactly how she feels right now, and I hate that she’s hurting. “This isn’t your fault. He led you on and lied to you—this is all on him.”

  “It feels like my fault,” she says with a sniff. “I let him get too close.”

  “It’s going to be okay,” I tell her, and I mean it. “We all make mistakes—give our hearts to people who don’t deserve them, do things we wish we could take back. But soon it won’t hurt so much.”

  She nods and pulls away, gaining control of her tears. “I should have listened to you when you said you didn’t like him.”

  “I don’t think I ever said it.”

  She gives me a dry look. “Please. It was written all over your face.”

  That’s probably true.

  “Are you going to the fireworks?” she asks, needing to change the subject.

  “Yep. You want to sit with us?”

  “I don’t think I’m going to go.”

  “There haven’t been fireworks in three years. You have to come.”

  “Maybe,” she says, but I don’t think she’s going to make it.

  “Do you want me to stay home with you?” I ask. “We could do a sleepover, watch movies or something?”

  She shakes her head. “No, you have to go. Aren’t you supposed to hang out with Landon?”

  I groan and rub my hands over my face. I’m not sure this is the best time to talk to her about all this.

  “You like him, don’t you?” she prods, probably ready to deal with someone else’s problems.

  “So much.” I finally admit.

  “You know that’s okay, don’t you? He’s not Thomas.” She scowls. “He’s not Tanner either.”

  “No more T-names,” I joke.

  “Deal.”

  We fall silent. Summertime sounds drift our way—children laughing, people chatting, birds making racket in the trees.

  “I think I’m going to head home,” Paige says after another moment. “I look awful.”

  “You’re too pretty to ever look awful,” I argue.

  “Thanks.” She gives me a small smile. “Go to the fireworks tonight. Tell Landon how you feel—stop pretending and make it real.”

  “You just made a rhyme.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Promise? I can see you’re miserable.”

  “I’ll think about it.”

  “What are you so scared of? You already know he doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

  I look up at a big, fluffy white cloud floating across the sky. “He’s going to leave, keep traveling, eventually go off to college.”

  “So? We graduate next year. What’s keeping you here?”

  I give her an incredulous look. “I don’t know—everything? You know Mom needs me. She and Mark can’t run this place on their own.”

  Paige looks like she wants to argue, but she finally nods. “You’re smart. You’ll figure it out.”

  “Hey, Paige,” I call as she walks away.

  She turns back.

  “You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

  Biting her bottom lip to keep from crying, she nods and then moves on. I hug myself, aching for her. I remember. Oh, I remember.

  Landon finds me a bit later. “Everything okay?”

  I step into him, wrapping my arms around his middle. “Yeah.”

  He sets one hand on my back and runs the other down my hair. “You positive? Because I’m pretty sure you’re crying.”

  And he’s right, but these few escaped tears aren’t for Thomas. Th
ough all of this has dredged up a slew of memories I’d rather stayed buried, my tears are for Paige—because her pain is a mirror of mine a year ago. I can identify with it too easily, feel it, even taste the betrayal. I hate that Tanner did this to her.

  “Why do people cheat?” I ask, looking up to meet Landon’s eyes.

  His face softens, and I know he’s put the pieces together and figured out why Paige was so upset. “Because they’re selfish.”

  Our situations were different. His girlfriend cheated on him, and Paige and I were used. But it’s all the same really.

  “Hey, Lacey?” he says after a moment.

  I look back at him.

  His hand slowly moves on my back, rubbing gentle circles. “You know that if we were together—really, truly together, even if we were states apart, I would never do that to you, right?”

  My heart swells, and I give him a watery smile. “Hypothetically speaking?”

  His solemn expression softens. “Yeah.”

  I set my cheek on his chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heart. “Yes, I do know that.”

  And I mean it. The problem is, we’re not really, truly together, are we?

  ***

  It’s just getting dusky, and we’ve found the perfect spot to park. Mom and Mrs. Tillman pass out sodas and snacks, and Caleb and McKenna run around Uncle Mark’s truck, waving glow sticks that it’s not quite dark enough for.

  Landon sits next to me in the bed of the truck. Everyone else is in lawn chairs, but we’re on Mark’s diamond plate toolbox next to the back window.

  We’re sitting here, laughing at Caleb and McKenna, when Landon’s phone rings. Surprised to see he has service, he pulls it out of his pocket and then sighs when he sees the number. Immediately, he silences it.

  I don’t even have to ask to know who it is.

  Without a word, Landon sets his arm around my shoulders, drawing me to his side.

  Then his phone rings again. This time, he dismisses the call and turns the phone off.

  “I’m sorry,” he says.