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should train herself to demand more from
Scott, to push him until he gave her what she deserved: answers and
explanations and definitions, security and commitment and peace of mind. She
knew he was seeing other girls, going on dates and trading flirty text messages
and drunkenly hooking up with them after gigs; he was upfront about all of
this, laying out all his cards on the table because he “valued honesty” and
“wanted to make sure they were on the same page.” She knew the loaded,
judgmental looks these girls gave her when she came to his shows, knew they
talked about her and called her a loser and a groupie behind her back. She
knew, even before Zac had told her, that she wasn’t different or special at
all. Yet, she also knew one wrong move would completely, irrevocably drive
Scott away, and she wasn’t sure she could live with that. Deep inside her, in a
secret place she had tucked away beneath layers of denial and assurances that
she had everything under control, she believed she could change him; that one
day, he’d wake up and realize he loved her all along. She believed—with a
faith much stronger and more persistent than she would ever admit to
anyone—that she and Scott were destined to be together.

Chapter
6

 
     
     
    It is exactly one week before they
graduate from college, and Summer comes over to have breakfast at Zac’s house,
which is a fifteen-minute walk from her dorm. Zac’s family adores Summer, a
fact she never lets him forget. His mom is especially fond of her, probably
tired of being around three sulky, sullen teenaged boys every day. This
morning, she has prepared an elaborate spread of golden brown waffles, dark
chocolate chip pancakes, crispy maple bacon strips, buttered scrambled eggs,
freshly-squeezed orange juice, and steaming brewed coffee. Mrs. Santos is in a
good mood, as she always is every time Summer sees her, and she looks polished
and perfect even at eight AM ,
with her hair in a neat ponytail and her lips a subtle shade of pink.
    She
pours juice into a tall glass and hands it to Summer. “So, what are your plans
after graduation?” she asks, sounding like every other adult Summer has spoken
to these past few weeks. “Are you taking a vacation or looking for a job right
away?”
    “Mom—”
Zac says in a warning tone.
    “It’s
okay,” Summer says. Zac is overly critical of his mother, usually embarrassed
by her the way most young boys are. He is insensitive and immature around her,
and Summer wishes he can feel the pain that shoots through her body when she
thinks of her own mother lying motionless underground forever. She tells Mrs.
Santos, “I’ll probably look for a job right away. I don’t think I can afford a
vacation.” She could, in fact, afford a vacation with all the money she’s saved
over the years, but she didn’t want to deplete her bank account for something
as temporary as a trip.
    “That’s
good,” Mrs. Santos says. “It’s the responsible thing to do.” She glances at her
son, perched on a stool by the kitchen counter, poking his waffles with a fork.
“Zachary here has no clue what to do with his life.”
    Summer
laughs. “He’ll figure it out like the rest of us.”
    Zac
heaves a huge sigh and gets up to put his half-full plate in the sink. “If you
guys are going to talk about me like I’m not here, I might as well technically
not be here,” he says emphatically, walking out of the room.
    “Honey,
that doesn’t even make sense,” Mrs. Santos calls out to him. When the sound of
his footsteps has faded away, she turns to Summer and tells her, “I hope you
know how much he likes you.”
    Summer
is caught off-guard, and her cheeks start burning. She looks down at her coffee
cup, studying the light brown liquid, the delicate curve of the rim. She does know
how much Zac likes her. But in the three years they’ve been friends, she has
grown accustomed to brushing it off, ignoring his lingering glances and pretending
his