Fifteenth Summer by Dalton Michelle

Author:Dalton, Michelle [Dalton, Michelle]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Published: 2013-05-06T22:00:00+00:00

In the car on the way home, I texted Emma:

You awake?

YEAH, YOU?

Duh, I’m texting you! And it’s lunchtime out here. How’s the intensive?

INTENSE! I’M DOING THE PAS DE DEUX FROM DON Q.

I have no idea what you just said. Guess what? Have news.

WHAT KIND OF NEWS!?!?!?

The boy kind.

?!?!?!?!?!?!

His name is Josh. We kissed! Last night.

DEETS!!!!!!

He works in a bookstore! He’s so cute.

I stopped typing for a moment. My deets were true, but they only scratched the surface of what I liked about Josh. All the things I really thought of him couldn’t possibly fit in a text. Which was, I thought, a very good thing. I had a big, goofy smile on my face as I typed, How’s Ethan?

GOOD!!!! I THINK . . .

You think?

NO, NO, HE’S GOOD. HE’S JUST, WELL, IT’S NOT LIKE HE’S GOING TO JUST SIT AROUND WAITING FOR ME AFTER MY DAYS AT LAB. HE’S GOT A LIFE TOO.

Deets?

HOW’RE THINGS GOING WITH YOUR FAMILY? IS IT STILL SUPER-SAD?

I frowned at my phone. Could Emma have been more obvious with her subject change? Yeah, a little, but it’s okay. My dad is working through it by killing small animals.

WHAT???

We just went fishing.

OH. GROSS.

Know what’s not gross anymore? Kissing! You were holding out on me.

ARE YOU KIDDING?!? I TOLD YOU EVERYTHING.

Bunhead, I was being sarcastic!

LATE FOR CLASS! LUV U.

I snapped my phone shut and frowned again. The conversation wasn’t nearly as satisfying as it would have been by Emma’s backyard pool with ginormous smoothies.

Then again, I reminded myself, if I was poolside with Emma right now, I wouldn’t be here in Bluepointe. With Josh.

I smiled through the rest of the drive.

When we got home, Mom was in the vegetable garden. She was decked out in a floppy hat and gloves the color of Pepto-Bismol. She was shoveling with such force that she was out of breath, red-faced, and sweaty.

“What are you doing?” I asked. There was a big pile of dead plants and weeds next to her.

“I just couldn’t stand this mess of a garden anymore,” my mom said. “Something needed to be done!”

“What are you going to do with it?” I wondered.

“I don’t know . . .” Mom trailed off, gazing at the big patch of bare earth as if she were seeing for the first time what she’d done. “I hadn’t gotten that far.”

She waved as Abbie and my dad carried our big cooler around the house to the back.

“How was the fishing?” Mom asked as she pulled off her gloves and tossed them to the grass.

“Check it out!” my dad said, flipping open the cooler and pulling out his big fish. It looked dull and stiff and very, very dead.

My mom clapped a hand over her mouth, and her eyes immediately welled up.

“Rachel—” my dad said in a What did I do? voice.

My mom shook her head and waved him off.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I was just a little surprised, that’s all.”

“Aren’t you excited to have fresh fish for dinner?” Dad asked a little wanly.

“Of course!” Mom said.

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