Cool for the Summer, Dahlia Adler [classic literature list .txt] 📗

guys expressing interest. She’s getting a reputation as mysterious and elusive—everything I thought she was before I got to know her. Everything she’s been to me again since she moved here.

This summer she felt like someone I’d been born to know, and now I feel like I can’t predict a damn thing.

Which I guess is back to being how she likes it.

“Good morning!” Shannon greets her sunnily as she slips in the backseat with Gia, and Jasmine grunts in the universal language of “I haven’t had my coffee yet.” Shannon laughs and says that clearly a stop at the Starbucks drive-thru will be required.

Jasmine mumbles her appreciation. Even fully decked out, she has never been a morning person, though she does warm up a bit when Gia declares her outfit cute.

We’re driving for about a minute when Jasmine speaks up. “What are you guys listening to? Is that Kiki?”

I cringe as Gia launches into an explanation of the episode, glad that Jasmine can’t see me from her seat behind me.

“Secret relationships. Interesting.” Jasmine sure sounds awake now. “So … fraught. I wonder what brought that on.”

I dig my nails into the seat, not caring if it chips the pink polish I applied last night.

“It must suck to have to keep a relationship secret,” Gia muses. “I mean, I guess it’s kind of romantic, having something just between the two of you, but if I couldn’t hold Tommy’s hand in the hallway or kiss him at the movies—”

“And in the lunch room, and in class, and at parties, and at—”

“Oh, shut up,” Gia says to Shannon as Jasmine snorts and I full-on laugh. Gia likes to think she’s restrained about PDA, but she’s delusional. She would be a terrible spy.

Definitely not a candidate for a secret relationship.

I try to imagine Gia in my shoes, fooling around with a girl under blankets on the couch or under the cover of starlight, and I can’t. It had felt then like it could happen to anyone, like female friends who were comfortable with each other could fall onto each other’s mouths and it was all cool. But would that have happened if it’d been Gia on the beach—Gia, who was obsessed with Tommy’s masculine forearms and deep voice and the earthy smell of his cologne? Shannon, maybe, if she thought it somehow made her worldly. Shannon would probably shout about it from the rooftops.

And suddenly, it hits me. I’m here drowning in self-reflection while Shannon and Jasmine get closer. Shannon may be flirting with Lucas, but they aren’t a Thing, not yet. And Shannon’s been known to surprise with her dating choices, especially if she thinks landing them is a fun challenge. Is that what’s going on here? Is Jasmine dressed up because Shannon’s picking her up? Is Shannon picking her up like people pick up people they’re dating?

The wave of pain that hits is fast and furious, and I don’t even realize it’s coming until I’ve already moaned out loud, forcing Shannon to stop short. “Jesus, Lara. Are you OK?”

I don’t know, I want to say. Tell me you’re not hooking up with Jasmine and maybe I will be.

I don’t know why that’s the thought that comes to my head. I don’t know why this hurts. I don’t know what I feel like I’m losing because I don’t know what I’m losing. All I know is the thought of them together—like, really together—feels like a stab wound to the chest.

“Fine, sorry,” I croak, and Shannon makes a teasing comment about me being a drama queen. Which … is maybe exactly what I am being. And anyway, I have Chase. I am dating Chase fucking Harding. I don’t know how serious we are or will be but I do know what he listens to in the car and what lines make him laugh at movies and what his mouth tastes like, and that is plenty. So, what am I getting hung up about?

There’s the lightest squeeze on my shoulder, so gentle I’d think I was imagining it if it weren’t for the searing warmth coming through my baggy shirt. And like that, my question is answered: the knowing when I need a touch, when I need to be remembered, when I need affection. That quiet, intuitive kindness. That’s what I’m getting hung up about.

I lift my hand to squeeze hers back, but it’s already gone.

Chapter Twelve

After a week full of weirdness, I manage to pull myself out of it in time for Chase’s game Friday night and our subsequent date. Granted, it takes some pushing from Shannon to get me fully decked out in fangirl paint, from Chase’s number 14 boldly drawn on my face in blue to “Go Chase” scrawled down my arms. But I look pretty cute with it, and judging by the way Chase’s face lights up when he sees me, he agrees.

Next to me, Shannon’s forgone face paint in favor of a pro-Lucas sign, and she keeps whacking me in the face, but I don’t care. Chase is having one of the best games I’ve ever seen, and we spend a decent portion of the evening on our feet, cheering as he completes pass after pass, his arm finding its targets with terrifying accuracy.

On any given day, he’s good, but this is next-level. If there’s a scout hiding somewhere at this game, Chase is getting a scholarship for sure.

“He’s so fucking hot,” the girl in front of us whispers to her friend as Chase accepts a high five from Lucas after rushing the ball halfway down the field before getting slammed to the ground, and I feel my cheeks heat with pride. The Stratford rumor mill definitely hasn’t missed that there’s something between us, even if there’s only been one real date. He may not be mine in the way Tommy is Gia’s, but it’s enough for me to get the feeling that comes with knowing pretty much every girl in the room would kill to be you.

“Larissa Bogdan is such