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

onto her legs. “Nothing serious, but for the last few summers, like bunnies.”

“Except for a couple of weeks two summers ago when Carter thought he’d met The One—remember that waitress at Sally’s Seafood Shack?” Derek says. “What was her name again?”

“Marly!” the others shout, and then they fall apart laughing. Watching them be such a close-knit, comfortable group makes me miss the hell out of Shannon, Kiki, and Gia. But none of us are home for the summer. Shannon’s in Paris, Gia’s at cheer camp, and Kiki’s in Japan with her grandparents. We’re all living separate lives while everyone here is coming together.

I take a picture of the fire sparking into the sky, bottles dotting the sand around it, and text it to the three of them with a Wish you were here.

“So, Larissa, what’s your story? Are you single?” Derek asks.

“Extremely,” I say with a sigh that makes them all crack up.

“Well, that won’t do,” says Jack. “What’s your pleasure? Boys? Girls? Both?” Keisha nails him in the side with an elbow, and he simultaneously coughs and laughs. “Sorry, neither is of course also an option. In this house, we respect aromantics and asexuals.”

“Thank you,” she says regally, resuming burying her legs.

“I’m not either of those,” I say, quickly adding, “though we respect them in this house too. I’m a ‘boys’ person. Well, boy, in the singular; I don’t think I’m cut out for more than one at a time.” In fact, there’s only been one boy for a loooong time. “But I’m not—I mean, there’s kind of this guy.”

Jack immediately drops his chin into his hands. “Do tell.”

I can’t help laughing. My friends at Stratford are so sick of my mooning over Chase, so I try not to do it too much, especially because it makes me feel pathetic. But here, I can spin it however I want, though I suspect these people would still think I’m fine if I reveal I’ve been crushing on a guy for years to no avail.

Pays to go somewhere for the summer where friends are slim pickings, I guess.

“He’s a football player—the quarterback—and he’s really talented, and he looks so damn good in the uniform,” I begin, and I hear my voice take on a dreamy quality that makes me feel silly, but everyone is looking at me with rapt curiosity and I love this night so much. Another Jell-O shot finds its way into my hand and I suck it down without a second thought. “He’s in my class and he’s such a nice guy. Like, he’s hot and popular and he could be such a dick, but he’s always nice to everyone. I love that he’s always nice to everyone.” I’m babbling, like verbally foaming at the mouth, but I gave up any hope of catching his eye this summer when I came here, and it feels like I deserve this moment. “And he works so hard. I catch him in the gym all the time. Being good at what he does means so much to him.”

Everyone nods like I’m not being incredibly boring, and I love them for it. Eventually, someone asks for pictures and I pass my phone around, feeling only a little creepy when Jasmine and Carter rejoin us and ask what we’re up to.

I mumble a “nothing” into the summer air, but the others override me, making me love them a little less. I wait for the teasing to come, for this pair who’ve been off hooking up to mock my crush on a guy who’s never so much as kissed my cheek, but it doesn’t materialize. Instead, the conversation turns to old crushes. Everyone’s in on it, from Brea laughing about her ancient unrequited love for her mom’s yoga instructor to Keisha admitting she used to pull the “my boyfriend lives in Canada” move before she was out as aroace, and it’s the most comfortable I’ve been in ages.

The comfort emboldens me to ask Jasmine about Carter when she’s driving us back to her—our—house, and if she wants a window to confess deeper feelings, she’s definitely got one. He seems like a really sweet guy, he’s ridiculously hot, and he’s cool as hell, so I’m expecting to pick up on some signals, even if she acts like it’s nothing. Years of being friends with Kiki has taught me everything to look for, from dilated pupils to a flush in the cheeks to any number of tells in body language.

But all she says is, “It’s nice to forget life for a while,” and though I’m not sure it’s her intended consequence, it shuts me up for the rest of the ride.

Chapter Four

NOW

The rest of the first week back goes the same—fun times with my girls, flirting with Chase, and complete and total avoidance of Jasmine while simultaneously obsessing. But it’s Friday night, which means Chase’s football game, followed by Jasmine’s party, which means all this stuff hanging over my head is gonna have to go some kinda way.

Getting dressed for the night poses a problem. All my nicest new clothes are gorgeous, expensive things Jasmine tossed into my arms with a “Keep this; it’ll look better on you.” I’m sure as hell not wearing her castoffs to her party, which means avoiding several absolutely perfect outfits in favor of stuff I’ve worn a billion times. But at least I can play up the things that seem to be working for me, starting with this glorious tan that will be gone way too soon.

I do have a couple of new, cute tops just right for wearing to a game-party combo, so I dig through my drawers until I find the right one. It’s white and cut high in front—my cleavage isn’t exactly anything to write home about anyway—but dips all the way down in back. Jeans feel way too boring to wear to Jasmine’s, especially with what’s basically a T-shirt, so … aha! I knew I had these somewhere. When Shannon convinced me to buy leather shorts