The Season of You & Me Read Online Free PDF Page B

might come over and use the half-pipe too, if that’s okay,” he said.
    “Who’s ‘we’?” she asked.
    “A few of the guys. It’s cool, Mom, really. Bry, you should come.”
    “Not really in a half-pipe kind of mood, Matt.”
    “Ha. You know what I mean. Aren’t you and Liv, like, together?”
    I felt my mother’s eyes on me. After the circus that was prom, I’d kept tight-lipped about Liv, avoiding the subject of my nonexistent love life whenever possible. Mom really needed to go back to work.
    “No,” I said, and I swear it felt like it echoed around the kitchen.
    “Bummer,” he said. “Later.” He thundered through thehouse, taking the stairs two at a time. A force. So big and present, it took a few moments for the air to still. Mom sat down across from me. I finished up my plate.
    “Why don’t you want to go to the party?” she asked.
    “It’s not really a party, Mom. Anyway, I’m tired. I have a big night of Realm Wars planned.”
    “Look, Bry, it’s none of my business, but it’s summer and I think you should try and maybe . . .”
    “Maybe what?”
    “Get out a little more. That online game was fine in the beginning, but I hate to think—”
    “Look, if I wanted to go I would. I just don’t feel like being around anyone right now. Don’t read more into it.”
    She nodded. I felt like shit.
    “About before, what do you think about what Owen said? Do you think I can’t handle the kids in case of emergency?” I asked.
    “Bry, I worry about a lot of things. Every time you get into your car, or I know you’re swimming, I say a prayer. It’s automatic. A mom thing. You, being a camp counselor? No worries at all.”
    “Not even a Hail Mary?”
    She smiled. “Okay, one. That’s it. You’re going to be great.”
    It sounded so easy when she said it.

THREE
CASSIDY
    I WOKE WITH A START, A NECK SPASM SENDING A jolt of pain down my right shoulder. There was a breeze in the car, fresh air carrying the salty scent of the ocean. I sat upright, still disoriented. Mom had the windows down, which must have meant we were off the parkway, close to my father’s. I kneaded my neck, rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, and blinked a few times.
    “How long was I out?” I asked.
    “A good two hours—lucky; this ride always feels about an hour too long.” Nan fanned her face with a stack of advertising mailers from every casino in Atlantic City. This was a multitasking journey. After they dropped me off at my father’s, Mom and Nana were hitting the casinos on the way home.
    It was a gorgeous blue-sky day. We were about fifteenminutes away from the causeway that crossed over into Crest Haven. Fifteen minutes to sun, fun, and adventures that would wipe Gavin out of my memory. Kind of like a lobotomy, with sunscreen.
    But I couldn’t shake the feeling of dread.
    Sometime in the middle of the night I’d realized I was making a huge mistake. Spending the summer with my father? All I’d thought about was getting away from Gavin, but being faced with the reality of the trade-off made me want to barf. Why hadn’t I listened to Emma?
    We saw my father about three times a year. There were never set days; it was more like whenever my mother had a feeling too much time had passed between visits, we’d jump in our car and take the three-and-a-half-hour trek to Crest Haven.
    It hadn’t always been this way.
    I had sketchy, almost dreamlike memories of what life was like when my parents were actually married. Some good, like pancake breakfasts at the diner, walks in the park where they each held my hand and swung me every few steps, even one Christmas Eve when we strung our small tree with decorations we’d made out of photos and construction paper, then sat in the dim glow of the lights. Some terrible: Mom and me waiting and waiting at a restaurant for Dad to arrive, epic yelling matches where my father would storm out and Mom would end up crying.
    One Saturday morning, about a month after first grade