Summer After Summer by Lauren Bailey

Author:Lauren Bailey
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CROOKED LANE BOOKS

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After a dinner where the tension ebbed and flowed and settled into unease, the tables are removed, and the band transitions into dance hits for old people. Our group spreads out over the dance floor. Wes drank steadily through dinner, as did Colin, and now they’re off in the corner with the bartender, discussing scotch.

I don’t mind the drinking. Wes is more gregarious when he has some drinks in him, and I get the need to let loose in the circumstances. I have a few drinks in me too, plus a lot of strawberry shortcake and lobster, and as the evening winds on, the tension starts to seep out of my body. It’s my birthday, after all. Shouldn’t I be having some fun?

Ash is of the same mind, appearing at my elbow on the dance floor, her thin arms raised above her head, finally free of her “deadly boring table.” Her laugh is infectious, and I throw my arms up to meet hers. I shout out the night’s events to her over the thumping music, and she gathers me in a hug. “If you want me to punch him, I can.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

She lets me go. “And they’re both going to stay here?”

“Apparently.”

“Maybe there will be some punching.”

“Not their style.”

She chucks me under the chin. “We’ll see.”

“Besides, it’s not like Fred wants to be with me.”

“Sure, right.” Ash reaches for the charm bracelet. “And what about you?”

I pull my arm away, embarrassed. “I wanted to get under his skin.”

“Mission accomplished, I’d say.” She nods to the side of the dance floor where Fred is standing, scowling in our direction.

“I’m sure he’s simply reminding himself of his lucky escape.”

“Uh-huh.”

“He’s with Lucy.”

“He’s not going to marry Lucy.”

“Sophie seems to think he might.”

Ash puts her arms around my neck like we’re slow dancing. “That’s wishful thinking on Sophie’s part.” The song ends and a new beat starts. “OMG,” Ash says, “is this what I think it is?”

I listen for a second. “If you think it’s ‘In Da Club,’ then yes.”

“Yes! It’s perfect! Because it’s your birthday!”

“And we’re going to a party.”

We laugh as the dance floor clears out. But Sophie comes to find us, and we start to do an old routine we used to do as girls, a hip-hop line dance where we thrust our arms out and turn ourselves around while we shimmy. By the time the song’s half over, Charlotte, Ann, and Lucy have joined us. I haven’t heard this song in years, and yet I still know all the lyrics, as does everyone else. We shout them out, self-censoring the bad parts so we don’t offend anyone, and raise our hands to the roof, and by the end, the whole club is watching us as we shout about it being my birthday.

The song ends, and we link hands and take a bow, receiving our applause as is our due.

There’s a pause in the music and we disperse. I head toward the bar, thinking I’ll find Wes there, but instead it’s Fred.

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