Summer Sky by Jenna Starly

Author:Jenna Starly [Starly, Jenna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: anonymous
Published: 2022-04-10T22:00:00+00:00

She applies the last remnants to her cheeks with large circular motions. When she's done, I don't tell her that she's got a blob above her right eyebrow. I don't want her to know how closely I'm observing her. Plus, she looks damn cute with it.

“Nothing like the scent of chlorine on a sizzling afternoon,” I say pulling my shirt off over my head and laying back on my lounger.

She laughs and I finally do look over at her. She, too, has leaned back, her eyes closed. Perhaps this won’t be awkward after all. No one says we have to make conversation out here. We can just enjoy the sunshine, the sound of splashing and kids’ laughter. We don't have to talk about how when we first kissed in her kitchen it took every ounce of my self-control not to lift her into my arms and carry her to her bedroom.

“Aren't you hot?” I ask.

What happened to my pledge to shut up and enjoy the weather?

Summer is wearing denim cut-offs and a lightweight sweatshirt that’s about two sizes too big. It's nearly 90 degrees out. She keeps her eyes shut and simply shrugs in response, though I notice that the little blob of sunscreen above her eyebrow is now threatening to drip into her eye as perspiration collects on her forehead. I decide to drop the issue so she doesn't assume I'm trying to get her to strip down to a bathing suit. Even though, oh God…

1985 Kansas City Royals versus St. Louis Cardinals. 2001 New York Yankees versus Arizona Diamondbacks. 2014 Kansas City Royals versus San Francisco Giants.

Despite my effort to distract my reproductive organs, I can't help noticing that Summer has her hands clasped atop her belly and she moves to twist that ring, the one she told me an old boyfriend gave her. But it's not there. Her fingers are adorned with silver and rose gold jewelry, but no longer that turquoise one. She seems to realize this at the same time I do and tucks her hands under her bum like someone trying not to bite their fingernails.

Livvy approaches with urgent, wet footsteps. She’s on the verge of tears. It's moments like these that I’m reminded that even though she'll be a teenager before long, she’s also very much still a little girl.

“What's the matter, honey?” I say, my arms outstretched.

But she sidesteps me and goes right to Summer, plopping herself dramatically at the edge of Summer’s lounger.

“You okay? What's going on?” Summer’s voice is soft, but not babying.

“That boy? He says I can’t play with the rings anymore. Says he had them first. But they’re not his rings. They belong to the complex. He just doesn’t like that I’m faster than he is.” She crosses her arms angrily.

“Okay, let’s go te–” I respond.

“I’m asking Summer.”

Summer widens her eyes at me. I really have no other choice but to shrug my shoulders as if to say, “If you know what to do, then go ahead.”

“So,” Summer replies slowly.

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