The Truth About That Summer

fifty-five

It's not a long walk to the pier - or rather, the shallow strip of tide that rushes up beneath it. It was always Casey's favorite one - far enough from the main beach to be private.

He'd come here with Maya. On their first date, I think, he laid out a picnic blanket and bought cheap champagne and strawberries. Then they used it to hook-up, but neither Maya or Casey admitted that to me. I just knew.

For a second, I wonder if Maya ever comes by, if she ever remembers the boy who treated her so well or the dates they had right in this spot.

Sometimes, we'd all come here to drink, huddling around a bonfire, if there wasn't a party we were interested in attending. Or if all the parties ended and we just weren't ready to go home.

He'd bring me here when I fought with Mom. I always thought... if the accident didn't happen, if Casey had made it home and we got our waffles in the morning... He'd bring me here, next. To tell me about Luke kissing Maya. To give me some privacy while I cried. Not from him, never really from him.

Just from everyone else.

But there's no bonfire tonight and I never got that last visit with him, either.

Instead, I sobbed about Luke by myself. I went to the diner alone, but couldn't stomach the chocolate-chip stack I'd always loved so much. I tried, but I threw up outside after only a few bites.

And I never came back here, because it was always Casey's place.

And being here without him... It's not the same.

Sniffling, I wrap my arms around myself and take a few steps forward, so the cold rush of water runs over my feet. I close my eyes, trying to imagine everything I can about my brother.

The slight unevenness of his goofy smile, the loudness of his laugh and how it filled every room he walked into, the exact shade of his eyes. The sound of his voice, how it was sounding deeper, more like Dad's the older he got.

Every day that goes by, these things fade. Just a little bit each day. But enough.

Enough that I know there will be a day when I'll only really recall the Casey I know from photos, a day when I won't be able to hear him calling me Pickle so vividly in my mind.

And what will I be then?

Stepping out of the water, the ache that spreads through me almost makes me scream.

But then a shadow of a person, dark in the cover of the pier, catches my attention.

I catch theirs at the same time and the voice is instantly familiar.

The urge to scream returns.

"Dylan, you okay?" Luke stands and walks forward, his hands in his pockets. Meeting my eyes, he frowns. "Stupid question. Sorry." Beside me, he stares out at the water, silent.

My eyes clenched tightly closed, I can't help but hate that Luke is here and Casey isn't. That Luke is why Casey left that stupid party, to come tell me what he'd done, to save me from his best friend. That Luke's wildness... the same wildness I loved so much, got them into that damn accident. That if I just had gone to the party with them... or better yet, if I just never dated his best friend to begin with...

"I never know which day is harder, you know? I mean... you'd think it'd be, well, the other one... But his birthday... It's like, hey, here's how old he'd be if he was still here, you know?"

"Twenty-four." My eyes flash open, finding Luke's on my face and I don't bother trying to be polite. "Why are you always everywhere I go? You're just always... there."