The Summer I Met You

CHAPTER 1

With my hair tucked into my black trucker's hat and a cherry blossom tote over my shoulder, I exit the plane into JFK airport. The scent of street dogs, trash, and what I think is urine hits my nose. Welcome home, I murmur.

I check my surroundings. To my left is a young couple holding hands, their arms swinging in unison. To the right, there's nothing out of the ordinary - just an older couple who sat in front of me on the plane. The men with cameras are nowhere to be found. I've made it safe, but I've still got some time to kill.

Trudging forward, I head for baggage claim but keep my guard up as I walk through. The shutter of a camera catches my attention and I turn briefly to a couple of kids taking selfies. My heart flutters for a moment before returning to its usual beat. My chest tightens making it hard to take a deep breath. Picking up the pace I trudge forward. Dad offered to fly out to California to get me so I wouldn't have to do this alone, but I insisted that I could handle it. Maybe I bit off more than I could chew.

Up ahead a bright yellow sign glows with black lettering pointing me in the direction I need. I reach behind me into my back pocket to turn on my phone. It's been off since the departure from LAX. I briefly lower my gaze to make sure it's loading up when I slam into a hard body.

A tall lanky boy with soft features, spins, and stares down at me like he's starstruck. His warm brown eyes hold my gaze to his. My heart wobbles with fear and maybe a hint of something else. The pinching in my chest is worse than before, I have to walk away before he snaps a photo and outs me to the world.

In a hazy fog I snap, "learn to walk."

He stares at me. I look down for a brief moment, finding him holding his phone. I'm sure that's the reason we collided. I roll my eyes and scoff. I'm using my attitude to put up a wall. It's hard to trust anyone these days.

His mouth opens and closes within seconds.

"Ugh, jerk," I mutter and walk away.

Strutting past him I can sense his icy cold stare at the back of my head. My shoulders slump. I contemplate turning back to apologize. Another click of a camera shutter makes me second guess my decision and I decide it's not worth it.

I zig zag between people walking in the opposite direction as me. Keeping my head down, I pick up the pace. As I turn the corner I collide with a rack of newspapers. The black wire rack teeters on one leg, but I catch it before it goes over. Staring back at me are my own hazel eyes on the cover of a tabloid. The image of him and I rushing out of the club that hot summer night in L.A. almost a year ago makes my stomach twist with horror. I take two steps back, flip it over, and continue on my way.

***

In baggage claim the number of bags dwindled down to just two black suitcases marked with silver duct tape. My phone chimes, distracting me from my missing luggage. The notification is from my personal Instagram, meant for only family and close friends.

A post I made before leaving L.A pops up with notifications. Only certain people knew about my departure.

TheRealCDawson: Did you really have to go?

My lips begin to quiver as I hover my fingers over the keyboard, while my brain heavily debates whether I should respond. Interacting with Chase Dawson, my co-star and the boy who broke my heart was not on the menu for this summer. I promised myself I'd be strong.

I scroll down attempting to read the rest, but even reading the comments from the people I want to interact with, like my friend and co-star, Rachael Diaz – makes my heart break even more.