We'll Always Have Summer Read Online Free PDF

things into my backpack—the novel my mom had bought me for Christmas, leggings, thick socks. Why should I be at home alone when I could be at my favorite place in the world?
    Fifteen minutes later, after I rinsed off my dinner dishes and turned off all the lights, I was in Steven’s car.
    His car was nicer than mine, and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Besides, that was what he got for bringing up the freshman fifteen.
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    I was heading to Cousins, rocking out to “Please Come Home for Christmas” (the Bon Jovi version, of course) and snacking on chocolate-covered pretzels with red and green sprinkles (another gift for my mother). I knew I had made the right decision. I would be at the Cousins house in no time. I would light a fire, I would make some hot chocolate to go with my pretzels, I would wake up in the morning to a winter beach. Of course I loved the beach during the summer more, but the winter beach held its own special kind of charm for me. I decided I wouldn’t tell anyone I’d gone. When everyone came back from their trips, it would be my little secret.
    I did make it to Cousins in no time. The highway had been pretty much deserted, and I practically flew there.
    As I pulled into the driveway, I let out a big whoop. It was good to be back. This was my first time at the house in over a year.
    I found the spare set of keys right where they always were—under the loose floorboard on the deck. I felt giddy as I stepped inside and turned on the lights.
    The house was freezing cold, and it was a lot harder to get a fire going than I thought it would be. I gave up pretty quickly, and I made myself hot chocolate while I waited for the heat to get working. Then I brought down a bunch of blankets from the linen closet and got all cozy on the couch underneath them, with my 38 · jenny han
    chocolate-covered pretzels and my mug of hot chocolate.
    How the Grinch Stole Christmas was on, and I fell asleep to the sound of the Whos in Whoville singing “Welcome Christmas.”
    I woke up to the sound of someone breaking into the house. I heard banging on the door and then someone messing with the doorknob. At first I just lay there under my blankets, scared out of my mind and trying not to breathe too loud. I kept thinking, oh my God, oh my God, it’s just like in Home Alone. What would Kevin do?
    What would Kevin do? Kevin would probably booby-trap the front hall, but there was no time for any of that.
    And then the burglar called out, “Steven? Are you in there?”
    I thought, oh my God, the other robber is already in the house and his name is Steven!
    I hid under the blanket, and then I thought, Kevin would not hide under a blanket. He would protect his house.
    I took the brass poker from the fireplace and my cell phone, and I crept over to the foyer. I was too scared to look out the window, and I didn’t want him to see me, so I just pressed my body up against the door and listened hard, my finger on the number nine.
    “Steve, open up. It’s me.”
    My heart nearly stopped beating. I knew that voice. It was not the voice of a burglar. It was Conrad.
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    I flung the door open. It really was him. I gazed at him, and he gazed back. I didn’t know it would feel that way to see him again. Heart in my throat, hard to breathe. For those couple of seconds, I forgot everything and there was just him.
    He was wearing a winter coat I had never seen before, camel colored, and he was sucking on a mini candy cane.
    It fell out of his mouth. “What in the world?” he said, his mouth still open.
    When I hugged him, he smelled like peppermint and Christmas.
    His cheek was cold against mine. “Why are you holding a poker?”
    I stepped back. “I thought you were a burglar.”
    “Of course you did.”
    He followed me back to the living room and sat in the chair opposite the couch. He still had that shocked look on his face. “What are you doing here?”
    I