Summer Love

Summer hasn't thought about what happened all those years ago for a very long time, but those memories are forced back to her when her 17-year-old daughter, Darcy, needs to write a story based on something that actually happened. As these memories come back, will Summer have to re-think everything she did that summer and in the end, did she make the right choice?

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12. Let's make them count

Summer Love

Chapter Eleven - Lets make them count

 

As I was walking home along the boardwalk, a familiar sight ahead of me made me freeze. Just two or three feet ahead of me, right in front of the only Starbucks on the beach was the spot where Harry crashed into me. My imagination played that moment in my head and I could see it in front of me, like I was watching a movie, but it all quickly faded when the present came and slapped me in the face. Harry was going to break up with me because someone told him that’s what’s best for me. Who knows what’s best for me? The only person who knows what’s best for me is me. Maybe Harry does too, and Sandra and my dad. Oh my god, my dad. It was my dad who called Harry!

I sprinted home and the minute I walked through the door I called angrily for my father,

“DAD! DAD WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!?”

Just then, Sandra and my father came into the front foyer from the living room,

“We’re right here sweetheart. What’s wrong?” my dad asked calmly.

“Oh don’t you dare sweetheart me. Why the fuck would you do that?” I snapped

“First of all, watch your language Summer. Secondly, what did your father do?” Sandra asked, keeping her calm too.

“What’d he do, you ask? Well Sandra, your stupid boyfriend right here just called my boyfriend and told him to come meet him, where he told Harry to break up with me because that’s what this little dip-shit right here thinks is best for me!” I cried.

“Summer, you need to calm down.” my dad said, approaching me slowly.

“Get away from me.” I snapped

“Summer, I promise you I didn’t call Harry and tell him to break up with you. I will admit I am not very happy that he is going back to Britain and you are going to Yale, but I wouldn’t tell him to break up with you. I promise you.”

I looked up into my father’s eyes and knew that he was telling the truth. I let out a deep sigh, “I know you are telling the truth dad. I guess I’m just really upset.”

My dad pulled me in for a hug, which I gladly accepted. I sobbed into his shirt, making it all wet. When I pulled away, my dad looked down at me,

“Summer, do you want to tell us what happened?”

I wanted to talk to someone, but I wasn’t sure how to explain it to my dad. This was more of a girl thing. The good thing about your dad having a girlfriend, who is just 9 years older than you, is that she understands this stuff. Sandra turned to my father,

“Brian, how about you let Summer and I have some girl time.”

My father understood what Sandra meant; she would get me to tell her and then later she would explain it to him in a way he would understand.

“Um, well I think I am going to go for a walk on the beach.” My dad said and then was quickly out the door. Sandra and I went into the kitchen and she made us some tea. When she handed me my mug, she broke the silence,

“So sweetie, what happened? Did Harry break up with you?”

“No…” I began. I told her the story of Harry getting the phone call, the boys seeming worried about it, Harry’s speech on how much he loved me, Louis telling me there was nothing I could do, Harry coming home crying and him and Louis talking in the kitchen, “… and then right before I left, I heard him say that he thinks that they are right, that breaking up with me is what’s best for me.”

Sandra processed what I said for a minute and then spoke, “Who are ‘they’?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know. I thought it was dad, but it wasn’t, so I have no idea.”

“Does Harry know you heard part of his conversation with Louis?”

“No.”

“Well Summer, he sounds like he doesn’t want to break up with you, so pretend you don’t know. The two of you have two weeks left. Make them memorable. If you tell Harry that you know, it’s just going to be sadder for the both of you. It’ll be hard, but pretend everything is okay, if he sees you happy, he will be happy, which can help make you happier. Summer, you have two weeks left with the boy you love. You got to make them count.”

“You’re right Sandra. Thank you.” I said. Then I stood up and gave her a hug, “Even though you didn’t give birth to me, I consider you as my own mom.”

I heard her cry happily and she hugged me back, “I consider you my own daughter. Now go get some sleep, the next two weeks start tomorrow.”

“Okay, goodnight. Love you.”
“Love you too!” she called.

 

The next morning, I got up, got dressed:

(http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/img-set/BQcDAAAAAwoDanBnAAAABC5vdXQKFnpkcWdqYnFNUXlPMFBkdkdrbmd2RVEAAAACaWQKAXgAAAAEc2l6ZQ.jpg) and left for Harry’s house. I knocked on the door and Harry answered. When he saw me standing there, he pulled me into a big hug, which I gladly returned.

“Oh Summer. I was so scared that I had hurt or upset you yesterday when I didn’t talk to you once I got home. I’m sorry about that. It’s just when I went out, the cold hard truth that our time was almost up made me really upset.”

Smart Harry. I thought to myself, what he just said was the truth, but he didn’t tell me everything, aka the person/people who want us to break up. I looked up at Harry and smiled at him, putting all my strength into not breaking down right then and there,

“Well Harry, we have two weeks. Let’s make them count.”

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