prologue
The summer sun beats down on me as I walk down the street with my mom. My shirt is already clinging to my skin.
I can’t wait for the summer to end and for it to be bearable outside.
“Okay, did you make a list of things you need?” my mom asks.
“Mom, school doesn’t start for another month. We don’t need to buy anything right now,” I remind her.
“You know I hate doing things at the last minute. I’d rather we get you what you need now so that way if something isn’t in stock, we have plenty of time to order it.”
I sigh, rubbing my hand over my face. If I would have known that she would start nagging at me so early, I would have stayed in bed.
“No, I don’t have a list,” I admit.
My mom sighs in disappointment, which is nothing new. It feels like this summer I haven’t been able to do anything right in her eyes. She heard all about how me and Grace had a falling out, but not from me. No, Grace’s mom and mine have weekly dinners. Seems I’m the villain in everyone’s eyes.
No one even stopped to ask me my side of things. Not that it matters. None of it matters anymore.
She grabs my arm and points across the street. “Oh look, there’s Gracie.”
I look over and fight the urge to cringe when I see her with Clay. It’s bad enough to have to see them at school, but seeing them here in our hometown somehow makes it worse.
Or maybe it’s my own feelings on it. I feel like I should be heartbroken. I should be devastated that I lost the love of my life. Instead, I feel numb. Like there is nothing inside of me.
That is until I see Clay.
I feel betrayed by him. Sure, he owed me nothing, but I had built him up so much in my head that I feel like he waltzed in and stole the life I imagined for myself. It’s hard moving on from that.
“Gracie!” Mom hollers.
“Mom, they probably don’t want to be bothered,” I hiss.
Grace looks over and smiles when she sees my mom. When her eyes move over to me, it falters for a moment but stays intact. I watch as hand in hand they check both ways before crossing the street, heading our way.
Shit.
I knew it would happen eventually, but I haven’t talked to Grace since the beginning of the summer when I told her I needed space and time. It about killed me to have that conversation with her, but it needed to happen.
She’s moved on with her life, and I can’t blame her for it. No matter how I feel, she deserves to be happy.
I’m just not ready to see it yet.
I’ve seen her around town over the summer but have ducked out of sight before she could see me. That’s how far I was willing to go to keep this space I created between us.
It feels wrong. Grace has always been by my side through everything. Losing her has felt like losing a limb. I still get phantom pains sometimes, but when I look, she’s never there.
For the first time in weeks, hell, months, I truly look at the woman who I used to consider my best friend. She looks different yet the same. Her hair is a little longer, her glasses are perched on her nose, and her skin is tan from spending time outside. Most of all, though, she looks happy.
My heart pangs. Not necessarily in jealousy but over the fact that she’s so upbeat, and I don’t know why. I don’t know anything about her, and it kills me. I used to know the reason behind her smiles and her tears, and now I don’t. I’m starting to wonder if I ever really knew her or if she was the Grace she thought she needed to be for me.
That hurts me more than anything else.
“Look at you,” Mom says, pulling me out of my head as she embraces Grace. “I’ve missed you this summer.”
Grace winces as her eyes dart to me and then back to my mom. “I know, I’m sorry. This summer has just been so crazy. I feel like I’ve barely had any time to sleep, let alone hang out with anyone.”
It’s a lie that she doesn’t need to tell. She knows as well as I do that our mothers hang out all the time. There is no way her mother didn’t tell mine what a douchebag I was to Grace. It’s the only reason I can come up with for how my mother has been looking at me lately. I know she loves me, but she is also disappointed in how I acted with Grace. At least, what she knows of it. I don’t blame her.
