Ashlyn tried to act like she didn’t care, but her smile betrayed her. “I talked to him a little bit, but I keep hesitating. Because of how things happened with my last boyfriend.”
“And that was…?”
Ashlyn looked around, then whispered, “Not here. We’ll have to discuss him later.”
“So spill,” Summer said, flopping down on the bed next to Ashlyn. After practice she’d needed a friend, so she’d driven over to finish the chat they’d started over lunch. “I want to know why you’re not planning a hot date with Matt.”
“Okay, so I told you how my last boyfriend kept pressuring me to have sex.”
Summer nodded. “Yeah. I got that feeling, anyway, though you didn’t exactly spell it out.”
“I wasn’t sure I was ready for the next step, but he definitely was. It wasn’t like I had other boys knocking down my door either, so I went ahead and had sex with him, thinking I had to get it over with sometime.”
“And how was it?”
“Well, it was a bit awkward at first. Mother’s made me plenty paranoid about my body, so I was mostly terrified about that. But you know, once we got going, it was nice.” Ashlyn’s cheeks turned pink and she suddenly became very interested in a fuzzy piece of lint on her bedspread. “And it was even better the next time. But then we broke up a few weeks later, and I felt used. It seemed like he was only in it for that one thing, got what he wanted, and then I was history. I wish I would’ve been stronger, like you were.”
“Like at the party when I almost kissed Cody? Obviously, I’m not that strong.” Summer covered Ashlyn’s hand with hers. “And you’re stronger than you think. When I first tried to hang out with you and the rest of The Misfits, you set me straight. You made sure to let me know I couldn’t mess with your friends.”
Ashlyn wrinkled her nose. “I was kind of mean.”
“But you had a good reason. I admire you. You’re strong, but sometimes”—Summer bumped her shoulder into Ashlyn’s—“you’ve got to be willing to put yourself out there.”
“You think I should go for Matt?”
“I do. But actually, I’m talking about your mom. Tell her how you feel.”
Ashlyn frowned. “Why are you so obsessed with making things right with me and my mom?”
“I guess it’s because I don’t have my mom here to talk to anymore.” The familiar ache rose up. She hadn’t really realized it before, but now she’d said it, she realized there was truth to it.
Ashlyn’s face dropped. “I’m sorry, Summer. I didn’t think about it like that. I swear, I’ll try to give my mother a break. Just for you.”
Summer smiled, thrilled she’d made progress. Where was Gabriella now? Strike that; she didn’t want her to come barging in right now. She’d only say it wasn’t good enough.
“Oh, I love this song.” Ashlyn jumped up, using her thumb for a microphone and belting out the words along with the Yeah, Yeah, Yeahs.
Summer joined in and they danced and sang around the room. By the chorus, Summer was laughing too hard to continue singing. She dropped onto Ashlyn’s bed and grinned at her friend. “You know what’s so awesome about you?”
“Everything?” Ashlyn asked with a laugh, then sat next to Summer. “Kidding, of course.”
“No, you’re right. It’s everything. But I especially love that we could be doing absolutely nothing and I still have a blast. I’m going to go ahead and get all gushy. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
Ashlyn broke into a wide, open smile. “Aw, thanks. You’re my best friend, too.”
Warmth filled Summer’s chest as she returned Ashlyn’s smile. Then came the painful, lung-crushing realization that her best friend was going to die.
Chapter Eighteen
Troy walked up beside Summer and stuck his surfboard in the sand. Water dripped from his hair and eyelashes. “You’re doing pretty good out there, Sunshine.”
Summer tipped her head forward and wrung the water out of her hair. “I feel like I got worked over. You and Ashlyn caught tons of waves, and all I did was flail around in the water. I think I’m actually getting worse. I kinda thought if I could replace dancing with surfing, I could quit the dance team.”
“Things still that bad?”
“Nothing I can’t handle. But let’s just say they’re far from pleasant.”
Ashlyn walked over to them, surfboard tucked under her arm. “So, my house is the closest, but my mother only makes egg white omelets.”
Troy jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “There’s a breakfast place on the corner that’s really good. It’s cheap, tastes good, and even better, they give you tons of food. I say we go there.”
They secured their surfboards on Ashlyn’s car and slipped T-shirts and shorts over the top of their wet swimsuits. The day had hit eighty degrees—warm for mid-October, and perfect for playing in the ocean.
As they made their way down the boardwalk, Summer drifted left. There was a large crowd in that direction, but it was like her feet didn’t belong to her anymore. This was the only direction she could possibly go. She scanned faces as they parted around her, trying to figure out who or what was compelling her. As she came out of the larger group, there was a dark-haired man who refused to move one way or the other, simply striding toward her. Sure he was going to plow into her, Summer started to move to the side. The man stepped directly in front of her. She moved the other way at the same time he did.
They stood in limbo for a minute before he reached out and gripped her shoulder. “Choose a way already.”
“Get out of my house!” a gray-haired lady shouts.
The man turns, arms loaded with electronics. The outline of a gun is visible under his shirt, where it’s tucked into his pants. He drops the items to reach for his weapon. The lady already has a gun in her hand. She whips it up and fires, once. Twice. The impact sends him back into the counter. He slides down to the floor, leaving a bloody trail as he gasps for air.
Blood pools around his body, his limp arms flop to the floor, and a wet, strangled noise escapes his mouth.
Then he stops breathing altogether.
“Back off,” Troy said, pushing his way between Summer and the man.
He turned his angry gaze on Troy. “You kids need to get out of my way.”
Paralyzed by what she’d seen, Summer couldn’t do anything but stare for a moment. Her gaze drifted to the place she’d seen the gun. There, underneath the man’s shirt, was the outline of the weapon. Summer grabbed Troy’s arm. “Just let it go.” Her voice came out so shaky, she was worried Troy didn’t hear.
The man glared at her for a second. Then he pushed past her and Troy and charged down the sidewalk.
“You okay?” Troy asked, two creases forming between his eyebrows. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Almost. He’ll be a ghost soon.
Ashlyn stopped in front of her. “What happened? What’s wrong?”
Summer shook her head. Two in a matter of weeks? Most of the time she went months between occurrences. And while Gabriella scolded her for trying to save the guy she bumped into in North Park, Summer didn’t want to warn the man she’d just encountered. She wanted him to get what was coming to him. Still, she worried she should call the cops to make sure the elderly lady was okay.