Page 7

That morning, I put on the only clothes not packed in my suitcase: the yellow tank top Haven liked and some shorts I should have washed four beach trips ago.

With my suitcase in tow, I said goodbye to Blair and Hadley when Mrs. Rivera-Sanchez—who insisted I called her Saray—picked me up. I promised Mom I’d be ready for her to pick me up by four, so the twins and I woke up early so we could make the most of our last day. The best days of summer were the ones you needed to set an alarm for, anyways. Today, an alarm meant walking into an arcade with my new best friends for one last bite of summer.

The smell of cheesy food hit first, then bright, flashy neon lights. Machine clinks, beeps, and pings begged for our attention. Saray settled into a booth and sent us bouncing between all the hungry games.

When we found our way back to Saray for lunch, we were red in the face and sweaty from laser tag after winning against a team of mean middle schoolers. A steaming pizza waited for us on the table next to ice waters and two cherry slushies.

“No fair, Quinn gets her own.” Holden slunk into the booth, taking a huge gulp of the slushy.

“Holden, please.” Saray looked up from a half-completed crossword. “Be grateful for what you get or it’ll all be Haven’s.”

“Ha!” Haven grabbed it from Holden and took her own gulp.

“You too, Haven.” Saray didn’t even look up that time.

Haven stuck out her bottom lip, shoulders slinking next to me in the booth. I emptied my water before we even started on the pizza, then I thanked Saray for the slushy and started in on it.

“No problem. How’s your last day treating you?”

“Good.” I nodded and etched lines in the Styrofoam slushy cup. “I can’t believe it’s my last day. I remember mini golf like it was yesterday.”

It didn’t seem like there had been two months of long, summer days between then and now, but that was how things felt when you looked back on them. It was how fourth grade felt back in June when I’d just completed it. I hoped it was how fifth grade would feel instead of spending every day missing cherry slushy brain freezes and stale pizza.

Saray nodded. “That feeling will only get worse the older you get.”

“Mom, you sound so old right now,” Haven said, lips cherry red.

“Well, I am old. One day, you guys will be too and I just won’t know what to do with myself.” I almost thought she was serious, but she said it with an exaggerated accent like the dramatic TV shows she watched, which made Haven and Holden groan.

It was nice to be part of their family for a day, to groan alongside them over pizza and drinks like I also thought my mom was embarrassing.

When we finished our pizza, I decided the best use of our limited time was the games meant to win tickets. We killed the rest of our tokens and managed a sizable stack of tickets. We combined our tickets to buy handfuls of jelly bracelets, bouncy balls, and a pile of Blow Pops.

I was working on an orange Blow Pop when Saray led us outside just before four o’clock.

We sat on the curb with sucker sticks perched on our lips, watching Main Street for my mom’s car. Haven and I stacked our wrists with bracelets. I was shocked they didn’t melt into jelly clumps from the sun hanging so heavily in the sky. Holden bounced a ball against the uneven pavement, chasing it around parked cars when it ran amok.

I took special note of the way the air felt—heavy against my skin. The deep afternoon blue sky and the sun were a warm hug. I knew I had air and sun and sky back home, but it wouldn’t feel this freeing for a while.

“What are you going to do when you get home?” Haven asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe cry.” I laughed, but I feared it might actually happen once I drove on the unfamiliar side of the causeway, left to watch the summer rewind in the rearview mirror.

The bookstore and beach.

Crickets that sang with the ocean as its audience.

Popsicles and peanut butter sandwiches.

Fishing and exploring the island.

Frogs that splatted against the driveway, pulled from their camouflage in the moonlit grass.

Fireflies that snuck out of the jar while you were hunting for more.

This summer, I learned that fireflies didn’t glow if you trapped them in a jar. They needed to be free to be beautiful.

“I sure will.” Haven smiled, but it looked wrong with such sad words.

“What’s it like here when summer ends?”

“Pretty boring, actually. Once all the tourists leave and it gets cold, most of the fun stuff closes.”

I nodded, but really I thought she was lying to make the leaving easier.

“I have something for you.” Haven fished through her pockets and pulled out a silver necklace that glinted in the afternoon sun.

A small purple shell shaped like a butterfly wing dangled from the chain. She rested the shell on her sweaty palm.

“This is a coquina clam shell. They’re my favorite because they’re purple. Also, some of them have this hole already there. I always wanted to make a necklace out of them, so I made you this to remember us by.”

Itching to put it on, I fumbled with the hook, snagging baby hairs. The shell fell just below my neck, cool against the summer air. “I love it.”

Even without this necklace, there was no way I’d forget this summer. I vowed to wear the necklace every day until I died. I didn’t care if Mom begged me to take it off for picture day, or if it felt scratchy when I was trying to sleep, or if I ever hated Piper Island.

“Give this to Hadley when she’s old enough to wear it. It’s what used to be on the chain.” She dropped a glassy blue heart pendant in my hand. The rainbow flecks scattered throughout it reminded me of my ice cream order—cotton candy, always with rainbow sprinkles.

“I will.” I smiled and shoved it in my pockets with the specks of sand I hoped would stay there forever. “Thank you.”

“I’ll miss you.” Haven pulled me into a hug.

I hugged her back. Her hair smelled of cardboard pizza. I felt like crying, but this was a different cry. It meant I’d had enough fun to miss it already. It meant I didn’t know how else to stretch the dwindling clock. It meant I wanted to.

“Please come back next summer.”

“I will,” I said. I felt a sting where my eyes usually were.

Haven held out a curved pinky to me. “Pinky promise?”

I smiled and intertwined mine with hers. “Pinky promise.”