Page 31 of Summer’s Echo

I swiped a hand down my face to disrupt the memory before I joined Echo.

“Hey,” I said, my voice soft. I’d slipped into black cotton shorts and a cropped tank with Birthday Girl painted across the front in glittery letters.

The shirt revealed just enough of my navel to play peek-a-boo, and as I turned back toward Echo, I caught the slight curve of his lips as his eyes lingered on the words across my chest.

“The Creative Crew?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, clearly curious about the origin of the shirt.

I nodded. “How’d you guess?”

His eyes traveled over me, starting from my long tresses hanging loose but pushed back with a decorative scarf, down to the silver hoops dangling from my ears.

I could feel the weight of his gaze, not in a way that made me self-conscious, but in a way that made me hyper-aware.

Over the past year, my style had definitely shifted.

Baggy clothes were now a distant memory, replaced by outfits that were a little more appealing—or maybe just a little more revealing.

I’d grown, changed, and maybe even glowed a little.

I wasn’t just the witty and outspoken girl I used to be.

I was finding confidence in myself, piece by piece, and I could tell he noticed.

“You think the coast is clear out there?” he asked, nodding toward the window.

“It should be,” I said, stepping closer. “But where are we going?”

His lips quirked mischievously as he held up the mystery bag he’d brought with him. “It’s a surprise,” he said, his voice smooth and playful.

Adrenaline and excitement coursed through us as we weaved our way through the woods, sneaking to our spot.

By the time we arrived, the familiar clearing brought an instant calm over me.

I hadn’t been back since returning to camp.

It just hadn’t felt right to visit without Echo.

Yet here we were again, and it felt perfect.

The skyline hadn’t changed. Stars scattered across the blackness like diamonds, with the occasional streak of a shooting star zipping by above us.

I stood still, staring into the vastness, getting lost in the night’s beauty.

It was so mesmerizing that I didn’t even notice Echo moving around behind me, laying out a blanket, positioning his old boom box, and retrieving food from his bag.

“E, what is this?” I finally asked, turning to find him sitting cross-legged, grinning.

“A birthday picnic,” he replied, matter-of-factly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He patted the space next to him, and I immediately joined him on the blanket.

I couldn’t help but smile. The food was cold, but it didn’t matter.

We dug into our favorite meal from Sonic.

The silence between us was comfortable; I didn’t have words for how I was feeling, but my grin spoke volumes.

It stretched wide, brighter than the stars above, as gratitude and warmth swelled in my chest. I was simply happy to be with him, honored that he thought enough of me to plan something so thoughtful.

But then, I lost my breath when I spotted a greeting card and a small box sitting on the edge of the blanket.

The box was burgundy, tied with a neat yellow bow.

I reached for it immediately, my curiosity getting the best of me.

“Be patient, Sunshine,” he teased, his voice light but firm. “Open the card first.”

I reluctantly set the box aside and picked up the card. It was blue and pink with gold foil print. The front reading, To my very best friend on your birthday.

As I read, my heart squeezed. Every word inside perfectly described our whirlwind friendship—the debates, the endless laughter, the way we’d effortlessly fallen into each other’s lives. By the time I closed the card, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

“Okay. Now you can open the box,” he said. “I know you’re dying to…impatient ass.”

I did a little celebratory wiggle before finally untying the yellow bow.

Inside the box was a delicate, unique butterfly charm made of white and yellow gold, its center lined with six tiny pearls.

It was so pretty. I stared at it, speechless.

Words failed me. Instead, I looked up at Echo, grateful for his presence.

He must’ve noticed my inability to speak because he leaned in, filling the silence.

“I saw it when I was in Chicago last week. I thought it’d be a nice addition to your charm bracelet,” he said, “something to make sure you always think about your boy.” He pointed a finger dramatically at himself.

He closed the distance between us. My fingers tightened around the box when his forehead gently pressed against mine.

“Happy birthday, Sunshine,” he said. “I hope I was able to make your day a little brighter.”

I nodded, my breath shallow, too nervous to break the moment. He cupped my face with a tenderness that sent shivers down my spine. So many unvoiced thoughts hung in the space between us, thick and charged, as the stars bore witness.

The world around us faded as Echo whispered, “I–I think I love you, Summer.” His voice trembled with a vulnerability I’d never heard. Before I could react, he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead, the warmth lingering long after his lips moved away.

I sat there, still clutching the box, trying to steady my breathing and my racing thoughts. The words I’d held back for weeks suddenly slipped out in a hushed whisper. “I think I love you, too, E. Thank you…for everything. It’s really beautiful.”

“You’re really beautiful,” he said, his voice barely audible but powerful enough to send a shiver through me.

Feeling the intensity of the moment, I nervously tugged at my earlobe.

Echo noticed, and with a loving affection, he cupped my chin with one hand while his other moved to rub the earlobe I was fidgeting with, calming my anxiety.

His gaze locked on to mine, searching for something I wasn’t sure I was ready to give, yet couldn’t seem to withhold.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice thick with anticipation.

“You always kiss me, E,” I said, trying to lighten the weight of the moment.

And it was true. Echo never left my company without a forehead kiss, a peck on the cheek, or a playful press of his lips to my hair. They were gestures of comfort, of friendship. But this…this was different. This was intimate.

Echo’s expression remained serious. “Nah, Sun. Not that kinda kiss.”

Before I could ask what kind of kiss he wanted, he silenced my words with the softest, gentlest kiss I’d ever experienced.

His lips molded to mine, tentative at first, testing the boundaries of what we’d always been.

Air escaped my lungs as I grabbed his forearms instinctively, my fingers clinging to him with a silent plea to continue. And he did.

Echo deepened the kiss, parting my lips with his tongue as he pulled me closer.

His hands were everywhere—one cupping the back of my head, his fingers massaging my scalp; the other sliding down my neck, over the swell of my breast, and grazing my navel.

The sensations were overwhelming, each touch sending a wave of heat coursing through me.

I gasped, my body reacting in ways I didn’t fully understand.

A sound escaped me, startling me as much as it seemed to embolden him.

“Mmm,” I murmured, the deep, guttural noise surprising me with its intensity.

I didn’t even know I was capable of making a sound like that. Was this really happening?My thoughts raced as his touch continued, gentle but assured, each movement unraveling parts of me I hadn’t even realized were tightly wound.

Echo kissed me with a hunger that felt desperate, as if he was afraid this would be the first and last time he’d have the chance.

My thoughts warred with my emotions. This is my best friend.

My boy. This will change everything.This must stop.

But I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop.

Every fiber of my being screamed for more, for him .

Somehow, I found myself in his lap, my legs draped over his thighs as his hands continued to roam. One slid down my leg, his palm grazing my thigh before creeping higher. I trembled, my body betraying every ounce of caution my mind tried to hold on to.

“Open your eyes, Sunshine,” he commanded, his voice rough, and I obeyed, my lashes fluttering open to meet his gaze.

His eyes searched mine, looking for something—understanding, permission, maybe both.

My breath hitched as he trailed kisses along my neck, his lips soft but searing.

I felt exposed under his gaze, yet completely safe in his arms, caught in a moment that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

Fondling the seam of my shorts, he fingered the fabric of my panties.

“Your treasure is your most valuable, precious gem from God, Summer. The Bible says, ‘ for where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.’ He must be special and worthy—someone who will respect you completely and cherish that sacred moment and your heart, baby girl.” My mother’s words echoed in my mind, soft and discerning: Your body is your treasure.

Was Echo deserving of my treasure? As his hands explored me with a tenderness that left me breathless, it sure felt like he was.

My breathing was ragged, the haze of the moment pulling me under.

But even as I surrendered to the intensity of his touch, a small, clear voice inside begged me to pause.

I needed to ground myself, to find clarity in the only place I knew I could— his eyes .

“Echo,” I whispered, my voice trembling as I tried to guide his face toward mine.