The Last Summer

by Cait Marie

  “Sweetie,” Mrs. Weston started, “she didn’t give up her dream. She found a new one. She wasn’t upset about Bennu that day. She’d already decided on studying business last summer. The attack happened after telling the counselor she’d need to hold off on going away to college. They were going over online programs.”

  “She applied to other schools, you know,” Robert said. “She was accepted to a couple, and she plans on transferring in the spring if everything goes well with the surgery.”

  Gavin shook his head and looked to the ground. He had no idea. He was afraid to ask where she’d go.

  “Last week, she moved Maslair to the top of her list,” Mrs. Weston said in a soft tone, as if reading his thoughts.

  His eyes snapped up to hers.

  She shrugged. “Sometimes life throws us a curveball, and we have to adjust our angle. But that doesn’t mean we can’t still hit it out of the park.”

  Gavin grinned at her attempt at a baseball metaphor. Robert got up with a quiet chuckle, claiming the need for more coffee. Lila’s future had changed, but as they waited for the doctor to update them, Gavin wondered if he could still have a place in it.

  25

  Monday

  A white, speckled ceiling came into focus as she slowly opened her eyes, blinking to adjust to the fluorescent light. Her head throbbed as she tried to look around. She immediately froze and closed her eyes.

  “Lila,” a soft voice said.

  Lila? Yes, that was her name. She opened her eyes again and met those of an older man. He wore a white coat with a stethoscope around his neck. She didn’t recognize anything else though—his dark hair and brown eyes were foreign.

  “Where am I?”

  “My name is Wallace. You are in the hospital, and I’m one of your doctors,” he said. “Can you tell me your name?”

  “Lila?”

  His kind smile comforted her. “Yes, but can you tell me your middle and last name?”

  She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. It was there in her mind, just out of reach and fuzzy. Her heart pounded as she tried to recall it.

  “Shhh.” The doctor put a hand over hers on the bed. “It’s okay. You had a small tumor removed from the part of your brain that helps you remember. Your memory should slowly come back with some rest.”

  “I don’t remember anything.” Her words were barely audible.

  He patted her hand. “I know. We’re going to let you sleep a little more, then we’ll try again. How does that sound?”

  Terrifying. “Okay.”

  26

  Thursday

  “Please, you have to let me see her.” The pleading in the man’s voice beyond her door caused Lila’s chest to ache while her heart raced against her ribs. She didn’t know the man or his story, but just in those few words, she heard an overwhelming amount of love and need.

  Something nagged at the back of her mind. A faint memory of a dream. Lila sighed.

  “What, sweetheart?” Her dad gently put a hand on her arm, and she opened her eyes.

  She knew him, she knew her father, but nothing beyond that recognition was clear. Smiling, she said, “Nothing. Just trying to remember.”

  He leaned forward to kiss her forehead, just below the bandages. “You will. It’s just going to take some time.”

  Both her mom and dad kept saying that, and she wanted to believe them, but it had already been three days. When she woke up after the initial talk with the doctor, she panicked. He talked her through it again, explaining the surgery to remove a tumor on her frontal lobe and the potential damage to her memory. She calmed down eventually, and a few hours later, they let in her parents. When she recognized them, they all broke down in tears.

  But that’s all she had: recognition. A thick fog blanketed the rest of her memories. They were there, she knew it; she just couldn’t see them. A faint flicker of an image would appear occasionally, but it never stayed long. At night though, her dreams played like home movies of her childhood. Shadowy scenes of running through tall grass barefoot, dancing and singing on top of a bed, and hazel eyes that comforted her more than anything.

  Lila still didn’t know whose eyes filled her dreams. After the first time, she looked to her parents, hoping to feel that same comfort while awake, but they both had blue eyes like hers. She had asked about other family, and they said she only had an aunt and cousin who lived far away. Apparently, she’d only seen them in person a handful of times, and not in recent years.

  The muffled voices in the hall continued, and Lila looked to her dad. Deep purple lined the bottom of his eyes—the same weariness she had seen in her mom before she left the room to get more coffee. The TV was on in the corner of the room, with the volume softly coming through the controller next to her side. She watched the IV drip slowly above her.

  “Dad,” Lila started. “Why don’t you go home and get some rest? I’m fine.”

  Her dad sighed, leaning back in his chair.

  “You know we’re not leaving you alone here,” her mom said as she pushed the curtain aside and walked over to hand Lila’s dad a cup.

  “Mom, you’re both exhausted.” Lila pushed the button to raise the bed to a sitting position. “And I know Dad’s back is hurting from that couch.”

  Her dad gave her a small, guilty smile. Being a minor who had major surgery, the doctors made an exception and let both parents stay each night instead of enforcing the one overnight-visitor allowance. With the hospital over an hour from home, it felt like they had all but moved into the room with her. They had bags in the far corner, clothes spilling out the sides, and her dad even had his laptop to work while there.

  “I don’t want you to be here all by yourself,” her mom repeated.

  Her dad shifted in his seat, seeming uncomfortable. He glanced at the door again. Something changed. Lila hadn’t seen him hesitate in this ongoing argument before. His next soft words weren’t to her. “She wouldn’t really be alone.”

  “Of course, I wouldn’t,” Lila said. “The nurses will still be coming in here to check on me constantly.”

  But her parents didn’t acknowledge her point. They stared at each other, having a silent conversation. After a moment, her dad took her mom’s hand. Lila saw him nod, and her mom’s shoulders dropped, as if the resignation let the exhaustion of the past few days flood in.

  “Okay,” her mom whispered. She looked to Lila. “One night. We will be back in the morning.”

  Lila nodded with a smile. She knew her parents needed that. She might not remember much of anything before the surgery, but she knew just from what she had seen since waking up that they loved her deeply. There wasn’t any doubt that they were very caring and involved in her life. They needed a break, even if it was only one night away from the hospital.

  Her dad stood and moved over to kiss her brow again. Then, her mother hugged her. They gathered some of their belongings, leaving her bag of clothes, and said their goodbyes.

  “If you need us to come back, call immediately.” Her mom moved an old, room phone closer on the table before writing a number on a random piece of paper. “I don’t care what time it is.”

  “I will, Mom.” Lila waved as her dad ushered her mom out, closing the door behind them. She let out a long breath and leaned back against her pillow, whispering, “Now what?”

  She flipped through the channels, passing news stations, game shows, and action movies. Nothing stood out to her, and she wondered if she watched a lot of TV before the surgery. Color filled her screen as a singing crab danced around with a mermaid and a bunch of fish. Lila stopped on the cartoon and turned the volume up. The music eased the tension in her body, and the corner of her mouth lifted.

  “Some things never change,” a voice said quietly.

  Lila’s head snapped toward the boy standing by the curtain, and she winced at the pain. She swallowed, taking in his tall frame and messy hair. She gripped the controller tighter as he slowly walked closer, wondering if she should call
the nurse.

  He stopped beside her bed, and she could see familiar dark circles beneath his eyes—he looked as tired as her parents. Her breath caught in her throat.

  His eyes. The hazel eyes with specks of green filled her with a warmth she couldn’t explain.

  The heart monitor beeped faster.

  “Shh, it’s okay,” he said, reaching for her hand. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Tears filled her eyes as she blinked up at him. She didn’t understand her reaction or know why his eyes appeared in her dreams, and that terrified her more than the stranger’s presence.

  “Breathe.” The familiarity in his demand brought a wave of emotion. Her stomach fluttered, and she closed her eyes. His thumb brushed over her knuckles in small circles. “Lila.”

  Hearing her name, she let out a shaky breath. She opened her eyes and met his gaze. A cautious smile lit up his face.

  “I know you, don’t I?”

  He nodded. After a moment, he sat on the edge of her bed, putting a hand on the cheek opposite the side of her surgery. He leaned in close and whispered, “Come back to me, Lila.”

  She gasped as images of an orange and pink sky flashed in her mind. A cliff on the edge of the world. Ice cream and red hair. A hidden treehouse kept by two people afraid of truly letting go of the past.

  Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. She looked back into the familiar hazel eyes.

  “Gavin.”

  27

  Saturday

  Six weeks later…

  “Gavin, come on,” his mom yelled up the stairs. “You’re late for your own party.”

  He laughed. Grabbing the box on his dresser, he pushed it into his pocket and walked down to the living room.

  He followed his mom out to the backyard. Fairy lights lit up the space filled with people. They greeted him with smiles and well wishes as he made his way through the crowd. He only had one person on his mind.

  In a pale-yellow dress, Lila stood talking to Dylan, Beth Ann, and Kaley on the outer edge of all the commotion. As if sensing him, Lila turned. Her grin widened, and his heart felt like it might burst. He stepped up behind her, wrapping his arms around her middle, and kissed her on the cheek.

  “Hi.” Her sweet voice warmed his soul.

  “Happy birthday,” Gavin whispered against her ear, her hair tickling his face.

  She turned in his arms. “Technically, it’s your birthday. Mine isn’t until Tuesday.”

  “Fine, then I guess you don’t want your present until then,” Gavin said.

  “No!” She raised up on her toes. Lowering her voice, she said, “Please.”

  The seriousness in her tone mixed with the desire in her eyes hit him hard. He held her closer, ready to give her anything she ever asked for.

  “Ugh, you guys are disgusting,” Kaley teased, breaking the tension.

  Dylan, ever dramatic, gasped. He stepped closer and put a hand on each of their shoulders. “Disgustingly adorable. Do you know how long my boy here has waited for this?”

  Lila laughed.

  “Seriously, dude? You’re one to talk.” Gavin shot a look to Dylan who glared back.

  Beth Ann grabbed Dylan by the elbow. “Come on, Romeo. Let’s get a drink.”

  “Whatever you want,” Dylan said, draping an arm over her shoulders as she led him away. He turned and winked at them once before disappearing into the throng of partygoers. Kaley followed them, laughing and shaking her head.

  “Think they finally talked?” Gavin asked.

  Lila rolled her eyes. “Who knows? Beth Ann is in denial because of the distance. She’s terrified to live eight hundred miles away from anyone she truly cares about.”

  Gavin nodded. He understood the fear of distance. In a couple weeks, he was moving to Maslair University. It wasn’t eight hundred miles, but he was still almost an hour from home. An hour from the girl he loved more than anything in the world.

  “So, what’s my present?” Lila asked, poking Gavin in the side.

  He kissed her forehead. Barely above a whisper, he said, “Come here.”

  Lila blinked up at him, her mouth parted. Reaching up, he brushed a finger beneath the scar still healing near her temple. She shivered, and he pulled her into a hug. He never wanted to let her go. The crowd around them seemed to understand, as no one interrupted their moment alone. They stood in the shadows of one of the tall oak trees. The sun hovered just above the horizon, giving the yards a golden glow. Without a word, Gavin pulled away enough to steer them around the far side of the tree, away from prying eyes.

  Lila laughed, turning to face him. With hands on her hips, he pushed her back against the tree and bent down to kiss her.

  When she woke from her surgery almost two months before, and her parents told him he couldn’t see her because she couldn’t remember much of anything, he thought his world had crashed and burned. He never thought he’d have the chance to hold her like that again. He didn’t give up though; he stayed at the hospital, waiting for them to allow him to see her.

  It took three days, but they finally gave in. He had prepared to just introduce himself as a friend. But seeing her in that bed, hooked up to monitors and an IV, nearly broke him. Then, he saw the fear and confusion, and he didn’t think he could handle that. He tried to calm her down, soothe the anxiety he saw building up inside. As soon as he said her name, she looked up at him in wonder. As if hearing him say it brought her back. When she smiled slowly and said his name, he’d finally cracked.

  He wasn’t one to normally cry, but in that moment, he hadn’t cared. She’d opened her arms, and he’d collapsed into them. They had held each other close throughout the night, talking about their past—Lila bringing up things she remembered as they came to mind. Her parents arrived the next morning as promised and burst into tears. They didn’t even berate them for lying in the same bed in a secluded room. They were too happy about her memories coming back.

  Not that they let that kind of behavior last. As soon as she moved home, they were back to the “leave the door open” rule. But Gavin didn’t care. His girl was healthy and remembered him. He would take any rules they threw at him.

  “What are you thinking about so deeply?” Lila asked, bringing him back to the present.

  Gavin smiled down at her. “How happy I am that you’re here.”

  “Well, it is my birthday party.”

  “Our birthday party,” Gavin said. “But that’s not what I meant.”

  Lila slid her hands around the back of his neck. “I know. I’m glad I’m here too.”

  He kissed her again, closing any remaining space between them. They stayed like that for a long moment. He broke apart, to lean his forehead against hers, listening to her ragged breath.

  “I have something for you,” he whispered. He pulled the small box from his pocket and handed it to her. She bit her bottom lip as she tore at the bow and wrapping paper. She had given him his gift of two Cubs tickets earlier—just as she had intended seven years before.

  Her gasp when she opened the lid made him chuckle. It was always easy to shop for her. They knew each other better than anyone, even after their time apart.

  Lila lifted the charm bracelet from the box and looked at the small silver pieces dangling from the chain: a music note, a mermaid, an ice cream cone, a skyscraper, a paintbrush, and a heart. In the center were two letters hooked to the same chain—an L and a G. Gavin took the box and tossed it aside before helping her with the clasp.

  “It’s perfect,” she said. “I love it.”

  “I love you.”

  She tilted her head up to kiss him again, but just as their lips met, Gavin’s mom appeared with a smirk.

  “You know, if her parents catch you two back here, you’re both going to get an earful. Again.” She shook her head. He loved his mom but hated her timing. It was like she had a sixth sense, telling her when things were getting heated between them. At his clear frustration, she added, “Did you really think you could disap
pear from your own party and no one would notice?”

  Lila laughed and nudged him to take a step back. Despite the July heat, he felt a coldness where she had been pressed against him. She took his hand, and they followed his mom back out to the party.

  As they joined the celebration, Robert gave them a pointed look and raised his glass. “To the birthday couple.”

  The crowd lifted their own drinks and began singing. Mrs. Weston and Beth Ann carried a large cake between them. They set it on one of the white tables.

  Gavin laughed at the half-purple and half-red icing job. That was their tradition as children—split the decorations and cake. Looking at the cake, Lila slid an arm around his waist.

  At the end of the song, their parents told them to make a wish. Gavin and Lila’s eyes met, then they blew out the candles. Their friends and family cheered, and his cousin Emily’s little fingers reached for the corner of the icing before Gavin’s mother scooped her up into her arms.

  “What did you wish for?” Gavin whispered to Lila.

  “You first,” she said. As children, most thought if they told their wish, it wouldn’t come true. Lila and Gavin, however, were sure that since they wished on the same candles at the same time, they could tell each other without risking it.

  “No way.” He laughed. The argument of who said theirs first was one for the ages. “I asked first.”

  “For more days like this.” Her cheeks blushed as she tucked her head against his collarbone. “I love you, Gavin.”

  Gavin smiled and held her close. He kissed the side of her head gently. The truth was he hadn’t wished for anything. He had everything he ever wanted in his arms. “I already got my wish.”