We'll Always Have Summer (23 page)

Bye Bye, Birdie.

we’ll always have summer · 277

It was Valentine’s Day. I was sixteen, and he was eighteen.

It fell on a Thursday that year, and Conrad had classes until seven on Thursdays, so I knew we wouldn’t be going on a date or anything. We’d talked about hanging out on Saturday, maybe watching a movie, but neither of us mentioned Valentine’s Day. He just wasn’t a flowers and candy hearts kind of guy. No big deal. I’d never been that kind of girl either, not like Taylor was.

At school the drama club delivered roses during fourth period. People had been buying them all week during lunch. You could have them sent to whoever you wanted. Freshman year, neither of us had boyfriends, and Taylor and I secretly sent each other one.

That year, her boyfriend, Davis, sent her a dozen pink ones, and he bought her a red headband she’d been eyeing at the mall. She wore the headband all day.

I was up in my room that night, doing homework, when I got a text from Conrad. It said, Look out your window. I’d gone to look, thinking there might be a meteor shower that night. Conrad kept track of that kind of thing.

But what I saw was Conrad, waving at me from a plaid blanket in my front yard. I clapped my hand to my mouth and let out a shriek. I couldn’t believe it. Then I jammed my feet into my sneakers, put my puffy coat over my flannel pajamas, and ran down the stairs so fast I almost tripped. I made a running leap off the front porch and into his arms.

“I can’t believe you’re here!” I couldn’t stop hugging him.

“I came right after class. Surprised?”

“So surprised! I didn’t think you even knew it was Valentine’s Day!”

He laughed. “Come on,” he said, leading me by my shoulders over to the blanket. There was a thermos and a box of Twinkies.

“Lie down,” Conrad said, stretching out his legs on the blanket. “It’s a full moon.”

So I lay down next to him and looked up at the inky black sky and at that shining white moon, and I shivered. Not because I was cold, but because I was happy.

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He wrapped the edge of the blanket around me. “Too cold?” he asked, looking concerned.

I shook my head.

Conrad unscrewed the thermos and poured liquid into the lid. He passed it to me and said, “It’s not that hot anymore, but it might still help.”

I got up on my elbows and sipped. It was cocoa.

Lukewarm.

“Is it cold?” Conrad asked.

“No, it’s good,” I said.

Then we both lay down flat on our backs and stared up at the sky together. So many stars. It was freezing cold, but I didn’t care. Conrad took my hand, and he used it to point out constellations and connect the dots. He told me the stories behind Orion’s belt and Cassiopeia. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I already knew; my dad had taught me those constellations when I was a kid. I just loved listening to Conrad talk. He had the same wonder in his voice, the same reverence, he always had when he talked about nature and science.

“Wanna go back in?” he asked, sometime later. He warmed my hand with his.

“I’m not going in until we see a shooting star,” I answered him.

“We might not,” he said.

I wriggled next to him happily. “It’s okay if we don’t.

I just want to try.”

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Smiling, he said, “Did you know that astronomers call them interplanetary dust?”

“Interplanetary dust,” I repeated, liking the feel of the words on my tongue. “Sounds like a band.”

Conrad breathed hot air on my hand, and then he put it in his coat pocket. “Yeah, it kinda does.”

“Tonight, it’s—the sky is like—” I searched for the right word to encapsulate how it made me feel, how beautiful it was. “Lying here and looking up at the stars like this, it makes me feel like I’m lying on a planet. It’s so wide. So infinite.”

“I knew you’d get it,” he said.

I smiled. His face was close to mine, and I could feel the heat from his body. If I turned my head, we’d be kissing. I didn’t, though. Being close to him was enough.

“Sometimes I think I’ll never trust another girl the way I trust you,” he said then.

I looked over at him, surprised. He wasn’t looking at me, he was still looking up at the sky, still focused.

We never did see a shooting star, but it didn’t matter to me one bit. Before the night was over, I said, “This is one of my top moments.”

He said, “Mine too.”

We didn’t know what was ahead of us then. We were just two teenagers, looking up at the sky on a cold February night. So no, he didn’t give me flowers or candy. He gave me the moon and the stars. Infinity.

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He knocked on the door once. “It’s me,” he said.

“Come in.” I was sitting on the bed. I had changed back into my dress. People would be arriving soon.

Jeremiah opened the door. He was in his linen shirt and khaki shorts. He hadn’t shaved yet. But he was dressed, and his face was unmarked, no bruises. I took that as a good sign.

He sat down on the bed next to me. “Isn’t it bad luck for us to see each other before the wedding?” he asked.

Relief washed over me. “So there’s going to be a wedding, then?”

“Well, I’m all dressed up and so are you.” He kissed me on the cheek. “You look great, by the way.”

“Where did you go?”

Shifting, he said, “I just needed some time to think.

I’m ready now.” Leaning toward me, he kissed me again, this time on the lips.

I drew back. “What’s the matter with you?”

“I told you, it’s all good. We’re getting married, right?

You still want to get married?” He said it lightly, but I could hear an edge in his voice I’d never heard before.

“Can’t we at least talk about what happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Jeremiah snapped. “I don’t even want to think about it again.”

“Well, I do want to talk about it. I need to. I’m freaked out, Jere. You just left. I didn’t even know if you were coming back.”

“I’m here, aren’t I? I’m always here for you.” He tried to kiss me again, and this time I pushed him off.

He rubbed his jawline roughly. Then he stood up and started pacing around the room. “I want all of you. I want every part. But you’re still holding back from me.”

“What are we talking about here?” I asked, my voice shrill. “Sex?”

“That’s part of it. But it’s more than that. I don’t have your whole heart. Be honest. I’m right, aren’t I?”

“No!”

“How do you think it makes me feel, knowing I’m second choice? Knowing it was always supposed to be you two?”

“You’re not my second choice! You’re first!”

Jeremiah shook his head. “No, I’ll never be first. That’ll we’ll always have summer · 283

always be Con.” He hit his palm against the wall. “I thought I could do this, but I can’t.”

“You can’t what? You can’t marry me?” My mind was spinning like a top, and then I started talking, fast. “Okay, maybe you’re right. It’s all too crazy right now. We won’t get married today. We’ll just move in to that apartment.

Gary’s apartment, the one you wanted. I’m fine with it.

We can move second semester. Okay?”

He didn’t say anything, and so I said it again, this time more panicked. “Okay, Jere?”

“I can’t. Not unless you can look at me right now—

look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t still love Con.”

“Jere, I love you.”

“That’s not what I’m asking. I know you love me.

What I’m asking is, do you love him too?”

I wanted to tell him no. I opened my mouth. Why wouldn’t the words come out? Why couldn’t I say what he needed to hear? It would be so easy to just say it. One word and this would all go away. He wanted to forgive and forget it all. I could see it in his face: all he needed was for me to tell him no. He would still marry me. If I would just say the word. One word.

“Yes.”

Jere inhaled sharply. We stared at each other for a long moment, and then he inclined his head.

I stepped toward him and filled the space between us. “I think—I think I’ll always love him a little bit. I’ll 284 · jenny han

always have him in my heart. But he’s not the one I choose. I choose you, Jeremiah.”

All my life, I never felt like I had a choice when it came to Conrad. Now I knew it wasn’t true. I did have a choice. I chose to walk away, then and now. I chose Jeremiah. I chose the boy who would never walk away from me.

His head was still bowed. I willed him to look at me, to believe me just one more time. Then he lifted his head and said, “That’s not enough. I don’t just want a part of you. I want all of you.”

My eyes filled.

He walked over to my dresser and picked up the letter from Susannah. “You haven’t read yours yet.”

“I didn’t even know if you were coming back!”

He ran his finger along the edges, staring down at it. “I got one too. But it wasn’t for me. It was Con’s. My mom must have mixed up the envelopes. In the letter she said—

she said she only ever got to see him in love once. That was with you.” He looked at me then. “I won’t be the reason you don’t go to him. I won’t be your excuse. You’ve got to see for yourself, or you’ll never be able to let him go.”

“I already have,” I whispered.

Jeremiah shook his head. “No, you haven’t. The worst part is, I knew you haven’t and I still asked you to marry me. So I guess I’m partly to blame too, huh?”

“No.”

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He acted like he didn’t hear me. “He will let you down, because that’s what he does. That’s who he is.”

For the rest of my life, I was going to remember those words. Everything Jeremiah said to me that day, our wedding day, I would remember. I would remember the words Jeremiah said and the way he looked at me when he said them. With pity, and with bitterness. I hated myself for being the one who made him bitter, because that was one thing he’d never been.

I reached up and laid my palm on his cheek. He could have pushed my hand away, he could have recoiled at my touch. He didn’t. Just that one tiny thing told me what I needed to know—that Jere was still Jere and nothing could ever change that.

“I still love you,” he said, and the way he said it, I knew that if I wanted him to, he would still marry me. Even after everything that had happened.

There are moments in every girl’s life that are bigger than we know at the time. When you look back, you say, that was one of those life-changing, fork-in-the-road moments and I didn’t even see it coming. I had no idea.

And then there are the moments that you know are big.

That whatever you do next, there will be an impact. Your life could go one of two directions. Do or die.

This was one of those moments. Big. They didn’t get much bigger than this.

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It ended up not raining that day. Jeremiah’s frat brothers and my actual brother moved the tables and chairs and hurricane vases in for nothing.

Another thing that didn’t happen that day: Jeremiah and I didn’t get married. It wouldn’t have been right.

Not for either of us. Sometimes I wondered if we had rushed into getting married because we were both trying to prove something to the other and maybe even to ourselves. But then I think no, we truly did love each other. We truly did have the best of intentions. It, we, just weren’t meant to be.

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a couple of years later

Dearest Belly,

Right now I am picturing you today, on your wedding day, looking radiant and lovely, the pret-tiest bride there ever was. I picture you about thirty or so, a woman who’s had lots and lots of adventures and romances. I picture you marrying a man who is solid and steady and strong, a man with kind eyes. I am sure your young man is completely wonderful, even if he doesn’t have the last name Fisher! Ha.

You know that I could not love you more if you were my own daughter. My Belly, my special girl.

Watching you grow up was one of the great joys of my life.

My girl who ached and yearned for so many things … a kitten you could name Margaret, rainbow roller skates, edible bubble bath! A boy who would kiss you the way Rhett kissed Scarlett. I hope you’ve found him, darling.

Be happy. Be good to each other.

All of my love always, Susannah

Oh, Susannah. If you could see us now.

You were wrong about a couple of things. I’m not thirty yet. I’m twenty-three, almost twenty-four. After Jeremiah and I broke up, he went back to live in the fraternity house, and I ended up living with Anika after all.

Junior year, I studied abroad. I went to Spain, where I did have lots and lots of adventures.

Spain is where I got my first letter from him. Real letters, written by his hand, not e-mails. I didn’t write him back, not at first, but they still came, once a month, every month. The first time I saw him again, it was another year, at my college graduation. And I just knew.

My young man is kind and good and strong, just like you said. But he doesn’t kiss me like Rhett kissed Scarlett.

He kisses me even better. And there’s one other thing you were right about. He does have the last name Fisher.

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I am wearing the dress my mother and I picked out together—creamy white with lace cap sleeves and a low back. My hair, my hair that we spent an hour pinning up, is falling out of the side bun, and long wet strands of hair are flying around my face as we run for the car in the pouring rain. Balloons are everywhere. My shoes are off, I am barefoot, holding his gray suit jacket over my head.

He’s got one high-but-not-too-high heel in each hand.

He runs ahead of me and opens the car door.

We are just married.

“Are you sure?” he asks me.

“No,” I say, getting in. Everyone will be expecting us at the reception hall. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.

But then again, it’s not like they can get started without us. We have to dance the first dance. “Stay,” by Maurice Williams and the Zodiacs.

I look out the window, and there is Jere across the lawn. He has his arm around his date, and our eyes meet.