Page 14 of Summer’s Echo

“Vodka and pineapple juice, please,” she said to the bartender, her voice calm and steady.

“Light on the vodka. She’s a mean drunk,” I joked, making my presence known. Summer froze for a second, her shoulders rising as she inhaled deeply at the sound of my voice. “Hi, Summer,” I said, taking in the graceful curve of her back before she turned to face me.

She spun around slowly, and despite herself, she blessed me with as soft, familiar smile. “Hi, Echo.” My heart stilled, remembering the first time she had me at hello.

Echo

That One Summer in 2004

Rushing around my room, I hopped in the shower and set a personal record for speed, washing only the essentials.

Minutes later, I threw on underwear, a clean pair of basketball shorts, a white T-shirt, and tall socks, mentally gearing up to call Summer.

Camp had ended a week ago, and I’d been itching to call her, but I didn’t want to look desperate.

Before I could psych myself up any further, faint knocks interrupted my thoughts.

I groaned because I knew that it was my little sister, Sadie.

She’d been my shadow since I’d come home.

“Echo, whatcha doin’?” she sang as her little eyes peeked around the door, long, beaded braids swinging into her face.

I tried to fight it, but my mouth lifted, welcoming her in. “I’m a little busy, Didi. What’s up?”

“Can we play the game?” she asked, her little pout forming as if she already knew I was going to say no.

“Not right now,” I said, gently steering her toward the hallway. “Where’s Eazy?”

“Napping with Dada,” she replied, crossing her arms as if she was considering her next move.

“Well, why don’t you take a nap, too? When you wake up, we can play whatever game you want,” I offered, pinching her cheek before nudging her farther out of the room.

“You promise?” she asked skeptically, testing my sincerity.

“Pinkie swear,” I said, holding up my finger.

Sadie knew better than anyone that a pinkie swear from me was ironclad.

Her face lit up as we joined fingers, and she took off full speed down the hallway.

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I closed the door, finally giving myself a moment of peace.

I walked over to my bed, flopped onto it, and stared at the ceiling.

With the phone clutched in my hand, I just held it, my thumb hovering over the screen, ready to call SummerWhat if our conversations were different away from camp?

The thought gnawed at me.What if she was different?

My throat was dry, and I couldn’t make sense of the nerves coursing through me.

Summer had been the first person in a long time who I’d let my guard down with so easily.

Talking to her had been natural. Uncomplicated. The fun we shared came unforced.

So why the hell are you nervous, dumbass? “Fuck it,” I said, quickly dialing her number before I lost my nerve.

The phone rang, and then a deep voice broke through the silence. “Hello,” her father said, snapping me out of my daze.

“ Um, hello, sir. May I speak with Summer?” My voice cracked like I was ten years old.

“Who’s calling?” he asked, his tone neutral but somehow intimidating.

“Echo, sir,” I managed, clearing my throat to sound older, more confident. “A friend from summer camp.”

A beat of silence stretched, feeling like an eternity before he finally yelled, “Summer! Phone!” His voice echoed through their house, then the line went eerily quiet. I glanced around my room, confused, wondering if he’d hung up.

“Hello?” I said lowly, checking the line to make sure we were still connected.

“I got it, Daddy,” she shouted before speaking into the phone. “Hello. Who is this?” Her fiery tone burst through the receiver like a cannon, catching me off guard.

“Hey, Sunshine,” I said, my lips curving into a smile as her familiar voice instantly washed over me. Lubrication returned to my lungs, and the tension in my chest dissolved as I leaned back into the pillows. “That’s how you answer the phone?” I teased, already feeling like myself again.

“Hi, Echo.”

Echo

May 2019, Seth and Brooke’s Wedding

“You done running from me?” I asked, leaning casually against the bar. She took another deep breath, her eyes flitting over me for just a second too long. Her body language spoke volumes, although her words remained guarded.

“Running? I wasn’t running,” she said, feigning nonchalance. “Just busy making sure Brooke is having the time of her life.” Her expression softened, watching her friend on the dance floor.

“Can we talk?” I asked, my voice softer, almost pleading.

She shook her head lightly. “About what?” she replied, her tone cool, though the way her fingers fidgeted with the glass told another story.

“Just to catch up,” I said, rubbing my hands together as if steadying myself. “It’s been a long time, Sunshine.” The nickname rolled off my tongue effortlessly. She hesitated, her walls visibly wavering at the sound of the name I’d never given another.

For a moment, it felt like we were teenagers again, caught in that timeless push and pull that never seemed to fade. “Just a second, Sun, please,” I begged, my voice barely above a whisper.

Our breaths synced, shallow and unsteady, as my finger barely skimmed her forearm.

The contact was a spark—no, scratch that, a fucking inferno—rekindling something in me that had smoldered for fifteen years.

And from the way her throat bobbed, the way her breath caught ever so slightly, I knew she felt it, too.

Something ancient and burning flared back to life for us both.

The same slow burn, the same fire that threatened to consume us all those years ago.

She swallowed hard, a tremor rippling down her neck, her body betraying what her mind hadn’t yet given into—my tongue across my lips, as my thumb traced small, lazy circles against her skin, a whisper of a touch—deliberate, yet unconscious.

A silent plea for just a moment with her.

That’s all I was asking. That’s all we both deserved.

But as the air between us thickened, one truth remained: This moment was dangerous, and neither of us was sure we should take it.