Page 20 of One Last Summer
“Okay, know-it-all, those were some of my questions,” I said, trying to let go of the awkwardness I felt. It had always been so natural, being here with her, with our friends. But now I was clunky, out of practice.
“Um, did you already unpack?” I asked.
“Yeah, I put my stuff in Sunrise.” Sam nodded. If she sensed my uneasiness, she didn’t let on. “Eloise and Linus have decided to have their own bunk.” She raised her eyebrows as she shared this big news.
“Their own bunk?” I looked back over to where they stood, hands still linked. “Wow. Breaking tradition.”
The one time Charles had tagged along with me to Pine Lake for a week, early on when we were dating, we bunked with my friends in Sunrise like I’d always done. What did it say about me, and my past relationship, that instead of seeking out some privacy with my boyfriend, I’d made us sleep in bunk beds alongside my best friends?
Sam leaned into me, speaking quietly. “They’re very, very extra. You’ll see.”
She took off slowly toward the rest of our friends, and I stood back for a moment, taking them all in before turning to face the lake. Eloise was in love, Sam was on the verge of motherhood, and this place that had brought us all together so many years ago was now about to be lost to us for good. Even Charles was off on some new path, growing out his hair and posting sweaty photos of himself for all the world to see.
I fought the urge to panic. Deep breaths. I just needed to get through this week, and I had a plan to do it too, mapped out on a piece of notebook paper half a lifetime ago. I’d find some joy, bask in the beauty of this place and these people, and then head back down to Boston recharged and ready to run shit.
“Hey.” A low, deep voice vibrated against my skin like a tiny tremor. “I hope you brought a bathing suit.”
I only had to turn my head a fraction of an inch to see Mack’s self-satisfied face, eyes smoldering and eager for my reaction. Instead, I held it back, denying him the satisfaction.
“Obviously, why?” I played it cool as I tried to resettle myself into this old game of ours: back and forth, tit for tat, always finding ways to best each other. I didn’t want to let on that I felt a little rusty.
“Let’s have a race this week. You and me.” He tugged at the front of his T-shirt like some sort of teenage jock. “Freestyle. I gotta find ways to remind you who the better Color Week captain is.”
Good lord. Here I was marveling at everyone leaping into the next phases of life and, of course, look who hadn’t changed at all.
“Nice try, Mack,” I muttered, even as my cheeks burned. Suddenly I felt fifteen again, annoyed and thrilled by him all at once.
“Aw, come on, Millen, don’t tell me you’re scared.” He took a step closer, then another. Now he was just inches away, and my eyes drifted to his chest rising and falling beneath his threadbare T-shirt, the outline of his shoulders broad and strong. “That’s not the girl I remember.”
He blinked once, studying me intently, like he could find the old Clara inside me, lurking just beneath the surface of my skin.
“I’m not scared of losing to you,” I said defiantly, lifting my chin as I thought of the words scribbled on that paper stuffed inside my bag: Do something that scares you.
Certainly, this wasn’t what young Clara had in mind. Nothing about racing against Mack scared me; I could kick his ass any day, past or present. So why did something about his words feel utterly terrifying?
He took off jogging toward the waterfront, whipping his head around to look at me with an enormous grin. “You and me, Millen! Rematch!”
“We’re not fifteen anymore!” I yelled after him. It was barely a zinger, and he let me know how little it affected him by flinging his arm up in the air, shooting his middle finger up at me without breaking stride.
“I know, that’s why I think I can win!” he shouted back.
I stood quietly and watched him go, too distracted to come up with some sharp retort, too focused on what was dawning on me as I watched him tear through the grass, those tan legs carrying him with a speed I could never match.
I’d only been in his presence for a few minutes, but I was already reminded how just a single comment from his mouth could throw a wrench in my best-laid plans. I wasn’t here to get swept up in our old back-and-forth.
I heard him shout my name in the distance, but this time, I didn’t react. Instead, I headed back toward Sunrise to rejoin my friends and get on with our day. Mack might have been able to knock me off course when we were kids, but I wasn’t an easy mark anymore.
11
“SLOW DOWN, YOU’RE coming in and out.” Lydia’s voice crackled through my phone and then got drowned out by loud cheers erupting around her. “The Red Sox just scored, so people are going nuts.”
“Sorry, sorry,” I said, tromping through the grass down to the waterfront in my ratty old Northeastern sweats. “It’s just kind of important.”
“You called at the perfect time,” she said, and the noise around her calmed. “How’s the list going? Check anything off yet?”
“Not a thing,” I said, tucking my free hand into my pocket to make sure the letter was still there.
“You come home next Saturday, right?” she asked.
