Page 9 of If the Summer Lasted Forever

CHAPTER EIGHT

“Here’s your map and the code to the bathrooms and showers,” I say to the couple at my counter. “Enjoy your stay.”

Mom comes into the front office as they’re leaving, and she holds the door open, welcoming them to the park.

“I’m working in the coffee shop for Betta while she drives her dad to the doctor,” Mom says when we’re alone.

Her hair is up in a cute French twist, and she even has dangling earrings in.

“I have to leave now, but I promised Sarah I’d get her this book today.

It took me a while to find it. Will you take it to her? ”

She sets a sewing guide on the counter, one that promises you can make a quilt in twenty-four hours. That seems ambitious.

I rub my ear, turning back to my screen. “Right now?”

“Would you stop avoiding that boy?” Mom says in a tone that’s half a laugh and half a scold. “He’s sweet, and he must be bored to death. You of all people know Gray Jay isn’t the most thrilling place for a teenager to spend their summer.”

I give her a look.

She slaps the counter. “ Take the book , Lacey.”

Resisting the urge to pull a Hunter and sulk, I do as I’m told. “Yes, Ma’am.”

“Good girl,” she says like I’m either three years old or a dog. With a breezy “love you,” she’s out the door.

In the last week, I’ve done a spectacular job of avoiding Landon. It’s not that I don’t like him—I do. He’s funny and sweet, and heaven knows he’s cute. But that’s the problem.

Every time I see him, my breath catches, and my stomach flutters. I know it’s just a crush, something meaningless, but I don’t want to feel that way about him or anyone else.

Though I continually tell Paige I don’t want a summer boy, in truth, I’m not sure I want a boy at all. Better to guard your heart, end up alone, than have it broken over and over. Whether they leave you specifically or just leave Gray Jay, the result is the same. It still hurts.

Hoping the Tillmans are gone, I walk the campground road, taking my time, checking my flowers on the way to Site Twenty-nine. The Suburban’s gone, which gives me hope, but if I’ve learned anything, it’s that Landon doesn’t always go with the rest of the family on their outings.

The Tillmans have a simple set up compared to some of the other campers.

They have no outdoor lights, no signs, and—thank goodness—no plastic flamingos.

They have a woven rug in front of the door, a cheerful one in red and white.

A few bikes lean against the picnic table, but the others are on the rack on the back of the trailer, out of the way.

A small tent stands near the rear of the site, and it’s crammed full of Caleb and McKenna’s toys.

Their site practically screams happy family.

I come to a stop in front of the door, debating whether I should knock. I don’t want to upset George and Candy if they’re in there.

As I’m standing here, with the book held tightly in my arms, Landon comes walking down the campground road, talking into that video recorder again. He has it on a selfie stick today, and I desperately want to tease him about it…but that might be considered flirting, and I just can’t go there.

“Hey.” A smile lights Landon’s face when he sees me. “What are you doing here?”

I hold the book out in front of me. “My mom wanted me to drop this by, but I wasn’t sure if you were here. I didn’t want to disturb the dogs.”

Landon retracts the stick, turns off the recorder, and heads my way. He must have had his hair cut in the last few days. It looks a little trimmer on the sides and shorter on top, though there’s still plenty of it to run your fingers through.

I blink that distracting thought away.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he says, smile firmly affixed on his face. He walks my way, advancing on me like a panther.

Shaking my head, I take a step back. “No…”

“Why?” He’s close now, just a couple feet away.

“Why what?” My eyes fall to his chest. His T-shirt is faded navy with a weathered twenty-four on it. As far as I know, it’s just a meaningless, random number, but my eyes zero in on it.

“Why are you avoiding me, Lacey?”

I rip my gaze from his shirt, making myself meet his eyes.

“I don’t have…” I trail off, not wanting to make a fool of myself by saying, I don’t have flings with summer boy s, because that would be me assuming he’s interested in me.

And I don’t know—maybe he’s just indulging in some casual flirting to pass the time. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything at all.

Maybe I’m reading too much into it.

He raises a sandy brow. “Friends?”

I bark out a laugh. “Yes, Landon, I don’t have friends. That’s exactly what I was going to say.”

“Well, if you weren’t going to say that, you were going to say something else.” He gives me a sly grin. “Which means you’re okay with us being friends.”

“Are we six now?” I tease, and then I make my voice a higher pitch. “Will you be my friend, Landon?”

“Why yes , Lacey, I will be your friend.” His voice deepens, taking on an almost sultry tone. I realize I foolishly stumbled into a game without learning the rules first.

I set my hands on my hips, biting back a smile.

“I guess that means you’re going to stop avoiding me, right?” he asks. “And we should go to lunch because that’s what friends do when friends are starving. And Lacey” —he leans down, meeting me at eye level— “I’m starving.”

I can’t help it; I laugh, finally giving in—not to the crush, but to the boy. It’s not like I’m going to fall head over heels for him just because he’s hot. That’s ridiculous. I’m made of stronger stuff than that…at least I’d like to think I am.

“We have one tiny problem,” I say. “My mom took my Jeep, and you appear to be car-less.”

Landon sets his hands on my shoulders, stepping close enough my mouth goes dry. “Do you have a bike?”

“Yes…”

“What a coincidence. So do I.”

“You want to ride our bikes into town?”

Paige and I used to do it all the time—before we got our licenses. Now it seems juvenile.

“Unless you can magically produce a vehicle,” he says. “In which case, I will be most impressed.”

I shake my head, smiling. There’s something different about Landon, something I like. He doesn’t care what people think—after all, he’ll walk around the campground talking to his camera. Maybe there’s freedom in wandering the country, not trying to please the people you see day in and day out.

Landon glances at his video recorder. “Just let me plug this in before we go.”

He walks to the door and waves me in. I follow him, hesitant, not wanting to invade his family’s space.

“Excuse the mess,” he says. “It’s somewhat difficult to coexist in such a tight area. Everything tends to go everywhere.”

It’s not that bad, not really. There’s a net for shoes by the door, but a small pair of brown flip-flops—most likely Caleb’s—is strewn across the floor. A few dolls, books, and games are scattered on the table. There’s a phone charger on the couch next to a half-unzipped hiking backpack.

But other than that, it’s pretty tidy.

The family must have George and Candy with them because neither is in the RV—either that or they’re sleeping on Mr. and Mrs. Tillman’s bed.

A yellow tabby eyes me from her perch on the couch. I’m not sure she’s impressed that I’ve interrupted her nap. Another cat, this one white, watches me from the table cushion. Deciding I’m not the least bit interesting, she begins to groom her face.

“Don’t you have a guinea pig in here somewhere?” I ask, looking for a cage.

“In the bunkhouse, on the table under the right-side upper bunk,” Landon says absently. “Everyone hates it, but Hunter’s attached to the rodent, so it’s still traveling with us.”

“And the cats get along with it?”

Landon chuckles darkly. “Mostly.”

Feeling awkward, I stop in front of a United States map above the dinette. I’ve seen it before—lots of the people passing through the campground have ones just like it. You add a state sticker for every place you’ve been.

The Tillmans have been to a lot of states.

Landon catches me staring at it, and he comes to stand by my side. “Crazy, huh?”

“You’ve been to all those places?” I ask, slightly awed.

Most of the states have stickers, though there are still a few they haven’t been to in the middle of the map. Maybe that’s what they’re doing now—filling in the rest—starting with Colorado.

“We sure have.”

I turn to look at him. “In two years?”

He nods. “In two years.”

“Wow,” I murmur.

For some reason, it makes me sad in a selfish sort of way. Landon’s been to all the places I’ve only read about or seen on TV.

As if sensing the shift in my mood, Landon bumps my shoulder. “The offer still stands—you can hide in our storage compartment when we leave. I’ll sneak you trail mix, string cheese, and bottled water.”

I laugh. “That’s very generous of you.”

“I do my best.” Remembering our purpose for coming inside, Landon opens a cabinet above the dinette and pulls out a charge cord.

I gape at the equipment he has stored up there. He’s like an electronic-hoarding squirrel, hiding away all his cameras, computers, and accessories.

“What could you possibly need all that for?” I ask.

He glances over his shoulder, and a slow, crooked grin builds on his face. “It’s for our YouTube channel.”

“Your YouTube channel? ”

Without a word, Landon pulls down a laptop and brings up a page. It takes forever, but it finally loads. And there he is, along with the rest of the Tillmans, staring back at me from the screen. I’m mesmerized both by the content and the fact that their hotspot is working over here.

I step forward and scroll down the page without bothering to ask permission. They have pages and pages of videos…and over a hundred thousand subscribers.

“You’re not on there,” Landon says casually, hands shoved in his pockets, “if that’s what you’re worried about. We always ask permission first. I was going to compile the first video before I showed it to you.”

I look at him over my shoulder. “This is yours ?”

“My family’s, yeah.”

It looks so professional.

“I’m…wow. This is impressive.”

Not only are there videos of the United States, but trips to Mexico and Canada as well. The Tillmans have videos of national parks, state parks, theme parks…anything and everything and more. Most have tens of thousands of views, and many of them have even more than that.

“I figured you thought I was insane,” he says, “since I talk to my camera all the time.”

“Yes, I did.”

He laughs, more than a little amused.

“Do you film all these?” I ask.

“No, it’s a family effort. But I make about half of them now.” Landon gives me another minute to gawk, and then he asks, “Are you ready? I really am starving.”

Slowly, I nod and close the laptop, knowing full-well I’m going to stalk the page later tonight.

Midnight rolls around, then one, then two.

It’s three-thirty in the morning right now.

I’m going to be worthless when the sun comes up, but I can’t seem to close my browser and go to bed.

I really do feel like a stalker watching the Tillmans’ family videos, but it’s not like they haven’t posted them for all the world to see.

Landon looked younger when they started those two years ago. He was lanky, a little less defined. He didn’t talk much in the beginning, was even a bit camera shy. With time, he’s gotten bolder, more sure of himself.

He regularly gets mentioned in the comments. Landon’s so cute. Landon’s so smart. Landon’s so funny.

I don’t love the comment section, to be honest.

Caleb is hilarious, always moving, always questioning, always looking for more. McKenna’s darling, and Hunter is…Hunter. He smiles when people aren’t looking, is kind and attentive when he doesn’t realize the camera is trained on him.

I still can’t believe the places they’ve been, the places they’ve seen.

Have you watched the one where they went to the Grand Canyon? Paige texts.

I called her last night, filled her in on what I learned. We’ve been watching them together, from our own homes, and texting each other like we’re binge-watching the latest Netflix series.

Yeah, I answer.

I thought Caleb was going to fall off the ledge on that hike!!!

I smile, loving her a little more. She’s always there for me, even if it’s just to keep me company while I stumble deeper into a crush with a boy I can’t have.

There are all kinds of videos on the Tillmans’ channel—several talking about RV repairs and traveling full time, some explaining the family’s favorite meals and how to conserve water and tank space when you’re dry camping.

I skip a few, but I don’t want to miss any with Landon, so I’ve watched them all for the most part.

Even though it’s well into the AM hours, I start another video. They’re headed home in this one, meeting with old friends and family. As I watch, the butterflies in my stomach die and are replaced with a chunk of cold, unfeeling iron.

Paige texts several times, but I ignore her, knowing she’s seen it too…and I don’t want to talk about it.

Half-ill, I end up falling asleep sometime between four and the time my mom comes knocking on my door. Light filters through my curtains, alerting me to the fact that it’s morning. My laptop lies next to me, still open.

I blink as Mom pokes her head in the room. I’m so tired my eyes hurt.

“Are you feeling okay?” she asks, frowning.

“I stayed up too late,” I admit.

She comes inside and sits on the side of the bed. “What were you doing?”

“Watching YouTube videos,” I croak, covering my head with my pillow to block out the light.

“Finally figured out the Tillmans have a channel?”

I peek from below the pillow to glare at her. “You know?”

“Of course I know. Sarah filled me in the day they arrived, explained why they were going to be walking around with cameras and asked if it was okay if they showed some footage of the campground.”

I grunt.

“Did you have a good time with Landon yesterday? I saw you go to the cafe for lunch.”

Of course she did—the coffee shop is just across the street.

“Yeah.”

“It makes me happy to see you having some fun. You work too hard.”

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” I demand, pulling the pillow off my face.

“Because you do.” She squeezes my shoulder as she stands, heading for the door. “There’s banana bread on the counter when you’re ready for breakfast. Mark’s in the office, and I’m going to sculpt for a while this morning.”

“Okay,” I mumble, hoping to fall asleep again.

But sleep doesn’t come because I learned something last night, something that changes everything.

Landon has a girlfriend.