After Summer

by S R Silcox

  I lean back into my chair. “Just let me think about it.”

  Jo appears at the table with my pizza and says, “Sorry it took so long. Matt had to clean the ash and stuff out of the pizza ovens. He forgot to do it last night.”

  I thank Jo, and I look over at Jason and smile. “I’ve got an idea.” I take my pizza, grab Jason by the arm and head around the back of the Hut.

  A couple of hours later, I’m standing on the beach beside Riley as her dad makes a dedication speech. Mum’s doing her best to ignore me as she stands off to the side. She’d be totally freaking out about my public display of affection with Riley, but I don’t care anymore. Riley leans in and whispers, “Sorry you’re still fighting with your mum.”

  “Small steps,” I whisper back.

  Riley squeezes my hand. “You’ll sort it out.”

  “I know,” I reply, even though I really don’t know if Mum and I can sort out our differences. For now, we’re being civil, at least for Dad’s sake, and I guess that’s a good enough start. I concentrate on what Scott Fisher is saying.

  “And now to make it official, I’d like to ask my daughter, Riley, to come forward to scatter Amy’s ashes.” I let go of Riley’s hand but she takes it again and pulls me with her. I glance up at her dad, but he doesn’t say anything. As we pass, Scott, Julie and Jason follow us down to the water’s edge. We all take a couple of steps into the water and Riley lets go of my hand so she can take the lid from the ashes box. She opens it up and peers inside. She turns to me and whispers, “It looks different to what I thought it would.”

  I resist the urge to smile. “I’ve never seen someone’s ashes, so I wouldn’t know.”

  “Me neither,” she says. She reaches into the box, takes out a small handful, and then holds it out at arm’s length. She lets it cascade through her fingers into the water, and as the last of it falls, she says, “For Mum.”

  She washes her hand off, puts the lid back on the box and wipes the tears from her cheeks. I put my arm around her shoulder and kiss her on the forehead. She sniffles. “Why do I feel like pizza all of a sudden?”

  Jason coughs. I look at him and pull the ‘don’t say a word’ face. I turn back to Riley. “I’ll shout you one, in honour of your mum.”

  Two months later…

  “Come on,” Dad says. “We don’t want to miss it.” I don’t know whether he’s excited to see the turtles, or because tonight’s the night the film crew are here to record some footage of Rosie’s eco-tour. Dad wanted to do a test run of the tour and the camp ground before the grand opening next weekend, and he’s invited some people up to act as tourists to see what they think. “I can’t wait til you see who we got to do the promos,” he says, as he strides up the beach to where Rosie’s head torch is bobbing around. Jason grunts beside me. He was in bed asleep when the phone call came through, and he wasn’t happy to be woken up. Brooks meets us half way up the beach. She’s been on the island for a couple of hours, helping Rosie with the tour group from the glamping ground and getting everything ready.

  “How’s it all going?” I ask. I take her hand and she kisses me on the cheek.

  “It’s so painful waiting for something to happen,” she says. “Everyone’s getting a bit antsy, but it shouldn’t be too long now.”

  “The tour group’s okay?”

  Brooks smiles. “There’s lots of stopping for photos and stuff, and the camera guy keeps asking us to redo some shots, but apart from that it’s been pretty good. The group’s excited to be part of the promo.”

  “I just thought they were getting some footage of the turtles.”

  “I think these tourists will get us some extra publicity.”

  “Why?”

  “Just wait and see when you get up here.”

  We reach the dune where Rosie and some other volunteers are explaining the process to the tourists. I’m a little curious as to what’s so special about them but I can’t see who they are thanks to the cameraman standing right by Rosie’s shoulder. It also doesn’t help that everyone’s faces are in shadow. When Rosie sees Dad, she comes over and shakes his hand. “Glad you could make it, Scott,” she says. “The first one is always the most exciting.”

  “Wouldn’t have missed it,” Dad replies. Rosie corrals us around in a circle beside the nest site and kneels down, shining a light on the sand. The cameraman kneels beside me and we all crane our necks over the top, trying to get a look. The sand seems to be shifting, just a bit, and within minutes the first turtle pokes it’s head through the sand. Brooks squeezes my hand and I lean into her. I can’t believe that after seeing the eggs laid last year, now I’m watching the baby turtles emerging.

  A couple more babies emerge from the sand, and then all of a sudden, the sand erupts in a flurry of activity as the hatchlings dig their way out and scurry down into a holding area the volunteers have set up. I watch as Rosie picks up one of the babies and as she shows it to the tourists, I can hear the passion in her voice when she talks about them, telling them everything she knows. One of the tourists asks if she can take a photo and Rosie positions herself in front of them. The woman with the camera bosses the other tourists around, telling them where to stand and then finally takes a picture. “Great. We’ll get that up on instagram as soon as we have service,” says the woman with the camera. Dad would be pleased. The more publicity the better. I look over at him, his head bent over the holding pen, and when he looks up at me, he’s grinning. “This is great, hey Riles?”

  “Yeah,” I reply. I haven’t seen him this excited in a long time. I peer into the holding area at all the babies, clambering over each other, chasing the light from the head torches above them. The cameraman asks Rosie to repeat everything she just said, and she goes through it all again as the cameraman records her and asks questions.

  One of the volunteers says that all the hatchlings have emerged, and as we wait for Rosie to do some final data entry on her tablet, I become aware that someone’s standing beside me. Thinking it’s Brooks, I say, “This is amazing.”

  “Epic,” comes the male voice from beside me. I turn my head and in the light from the camera that’s now pointing right at us, the guy with long dark hair smiles at me. “This is the best camping trip I’ve ever been on,” he says. I smile back, and for some reason, I feel like I should know him. Before I can work it out, Rosie finishes with her tablet and tells us to stand clear of the enclosure.

  “We’ll follow them down to the water now,” she says, “but they’ll be attracted to the light, so no torches except for the ones from the volunteers.” She lifts up the side of the holding area and the turtles take off, following the torch light from the volunteers down to the water. We follow behind them, stopping at the water’s edge, watching them hit the water and disappear into the darkness, just like their mother did a few months ago.

  Brooks stands behind me, her arms around my waist, her chin on my shoulder. I can feel her warm breath on my skin. “Have you worked out who the tourists are yet?” she asks.

  “It’s a bit hard to see in the dark,” I reply. “Who are they?”

  She brushes her lips across my neck. “Three’s Company.”

  “No way!”

  Brooks laughs. “Yes way.”

  “Holy shit. No wonder Dad was excited.” I turn around to face her. “Oh my God. You’ve spent the whole afternoon with them.”

  “Yes, I have,” Brooks says, sounding proud of herself.

  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

  “I was sworn to secrecy. Besides, your Dad would have roasted me slowly over a bonfire if word had gotten out about Three’s Company being in town.”

  I laugh. Brooks and Dad are starting to realise that they have more in common than they first thought, and even though he’s beginning to like Brooks, he’s started on the ‘overprotective dad’ routine because Brooks and I are dating. It’s totally unnecessary but also pretty cool. “Are you going to introduce me?” I ask.

  “I’d
have to check with them and see if they want to meet you,” Brooks says. I whack her playfully on the arm. “Ow! Of course you get to meet them. Your dad’s organised for food and drinks up at the campground. Speaking of which, we should get going. I haven’t eaten all afternoon.” As we walk back up the beach, hand-in-hand, she asks, “Have you picked your subjects yet?”

  “Have you?”

  She bumps my shoulder with hers. “I thought I’d wait to see what my girlfriend picks.”

  “Why?”

  “So I can spend my days perving on her from the back of the class.”

  I snort. “That’s so bad.”

  “Yeah,” she says. “It is.” She stops walking and pulls me into her. Her arms wind around my waist and she kisses me, soft and slow. I have a feeling this year is going to be better than I thought.

  Other books in The Girls of Summer Series

  Crush

  Summertime in Chesterfield means two very different things for teenagers Tess Copeland and Maddie Lambert.

  For Tess, spending time with family and anticipating the annual Crush Festival goes hand-in-hand with the country air and the sweet smell of a cane fire. For Maddie, Chesterfield offers an escape from the demands of a reality that she’s just unable to run from.

  This summer, however, there is one lit fire that’s even harder to contain than the massive bonfires that characterise the town’s summer spectacle, as young love and awakened passions smoulder in the shadows. Amidst the turmoil of growing up and the pressures of youth and fame, can these two young women navigate the precipices of adulthood unscathed? Will Maddie and Tess be able to overcome the secrets of a small town and save the beloved festival before it’s too late?

  Find out in this touchingly sweet coming-of-age tale from SR Silcox — grab your copy today!

  Want to get it for free? For a limited time, subscribers to my mailing list get the entire book for free, just for signing up. You can do that at:

  www.srsilcox.com/newsletter

  Acknowledgements

  There are always a lot of people involved in writing my books, from answering small questions, to digging me out of major plot holes to pushing me forward and giving me the motivation to keep going.

  Huge thanks to Alison Bedford as always, for her English-teacher editing genius. I think you’re the only other person who has read the book the same number of times as me and not gotten sick of it.

  To Kylie Nothdurft for cafe kitchen advice and making me look like I knew what I was talking about when I’ve never worked in a professional kitchen before in my life.

  To Jess “The Constable” Domrow, for explaining the difference between being ‘detained’ and being ‘arrested’ and never asking me why I ask the questions that I do. Also, your instinct for knowing exactly where I’m going with my series of totally random and extremely vague questions is amazing - I guess that’s why you’re the police officer.

  To Ranger Shane O’Connor, thank you for making sure Rosie and her volunteers were doing the right thing with the turtle monitoring and knew what they were talking about.

  To the inaugural members of my first First Readers Club, Naomi, Renay, Estefany and Anne - you guys rock!

  To all my Beta readers, and everyone else too numerous to name who have had some small part in pushing me along the way, thank you! And to the readers who have taken these stories and their characters to heart and love them as much as I do, if not more, thank you too - you guys are the reason I write.

  And finally, as always, to my wife, Teresa, whose unwaivering faith and support propels me forward into each new bookish adventure.

  Thank you!

  Thank you for reading After Summer, the second book in the Girls of Summer series of sweet teen romance books featuring lesbian main characters. If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review at your favourite online retailer.

  Be the first to find out about new books and competitions for cool stuff by signing up for my mailing list. As part of the list, you’ll also get the chance to join the exclusive Girls of Summer First Readers group and get to read all of my books for free. I only open it up a couple of times a year, so join the list today:

  www.srsilcox.com/newsletter

  Also, I love hearing from my readers. On my website, you can contact me, read my blog and find me on social networking.

  Thanks for reading!

  — SR Silcox