The Truth About That Summer

seventy-three

The air is already hot as Luke drives me home this morning. Hot and sticky, but there's a breeze that makes it bearable. With my window down and my hand out of it, salty wind tousles my hair as we drive back to Grams. The radio hums quietly, stuck on an old, alternative rock station.

Luke's quiet. But not in an "I'm angry and sulking quiet," - just tired quiet. We were up late last night, I can hardly blame him.

But I was up even after he fell asleep, replaying his rescuing Finn again and again in my mind. The look on his face as he stretched in the mirror. The pills rattling in his drawer.

Luke's a good guy.

I spent so long hating him but... the truth of it is, he's really good. He sacrifices for the people he cares about, myself included. He harms himself, instead of letting the ones he loves suffer. He's proven it time and time again. This summer, at least.

The fact sits like a rock in my belly. An obnoxious thought I can't get out of my head.

Because how does this summer's Luke align with the Luke from that summer's accident?

A sharp pain in my finger makes me realize I'm clawing at my cuticles. I stop, a little droplet of blood forming beside my nailbed, as Luke turns the radio down and pulls into Grams driveway.

He's at my door before I can hop out, humming cheerfully to himself. He helps me out, holding my hips a little longer than absolutely necessary. I can't help my returning grin.

"You're in a strangely good mood." I try for light and airy but the sentence comes out tight.

"Nothing strange about it, Dyl." Luke smirks anyways, wrapping an arm around my neck and tugging me close to his chest, breathing deeply into my hair as approach the front porch. "I can't be in a bad mood after a night with you."

His eyes twinkle down at me. Something tugs inside my chest. This is the Luke Henson that is hard to resist, the one capable of getting me into trouble. The Luke I knew and loved and then hated.

And now...

"Noted." I say simply, letting his hand drop as I find my keys.

How can someone who makes me feel so good be the same person who destroyed everything, my heart included?

"I can't stay today." He murmurs, brushing hair from my cheekbone and planting a soft kiss at my temple. "I've got to open the store."

"Oh," I breathe, noting the disappointment as my heart settles. "When will you be done?"

"Already missing me?" Half of his smile quirks up, a dimple threatening to pop out and seduce me entirely.

"Missing part of you, more like." I tease, hand gliding over the front of his jeans as I grin at his faux hurt. And then his strained expression as he tries to maintain control.

"See, Dyl?" He smirks, reluctantly adjusting his baseball cap as he descends the stairs, a playful wink tossed over his shoulder. "I told you my new moves would win you over."

I only laugh, too nervous to trust my voice not to give me away as I step inside the cottage, even as Luke promises to be by for dinner tonight.

Because it's not the new moves that are winning me over, but the same, old Luke.

It's a while before I hear Grams stirring in her bedroom. She must have been up late last night and decided to nap this morning. Noting the still early hour, I set some tea on the stove and wait for it to boil.

Only when it's done, the scent of citrusy-green tea rumbling my belly, do I prepare the tray with fruit and yogurt and toast, and bring it up the stairs to Grams room.