That Summer

“God, Casey,” I said, suddenly nervous that Gwendolyn was still in earshot. “She’s sick.”

“She’s nuts, Haven,” she said with authority, pulling out a pack of gum and offering me a piece. “Beautiful and nuts. What a combination.”

We were coming up on Sumner now, who was busy talking with some woman who had a baby attached to her hip and a toddler linked to her wrist by one of those baby leashes. The kid was straining on it, yanking towards the toy store, but kept getting jerked back, losing his balance, and crashing to the floor. The mother was too busy fussing at Sumner to even notice.

“I’m not the kind of person who usually complains,” she was saying as we got within earshot. “But I really feel like that was just a disgusting display and completely unnecessary. Those aren’t the kind of clothes a girl would wear back to school. What happened to plaid jumpers? To tights and slacks? To those nice sweaters with the reindeer prints on them?”

“I don’t know, ma’am,” Sumner said in a deep voice. “I can’t really say.”

“Well, it just upsets me.” She yanked on the leash, plopping the toddler, who had managed to make some headway, back to the floor again. “I feel like it just sends the wrong message, you know? I don’t associate gyrating with homework, myself, and I don’t think any other mother who spends money at this mall does, either.”

“I completely understand,” Sumner said, and then saw me and smiled. “I would suggest contacting mall management. I’m sure they’d be very concerned about what you’re saying. Here’s the number right here, or if you’d like to write a letter—”

“Yes, a letter might be better,” she said. “It’s always better to put it in writing, isn’t it?”

“It is indeed.” Sumner wrote something on a card and handed it to her. “That’s the man to address, right there. In case you decide to call, he’s not in on Tuesdays.”

“Thank you.” She put the card in her fanny pack and leaned over the toddler, who was now sitting on the floor eating a dirty candy wrapper. We watched as she got him to his feet, adjusted the baby to her other hip, and they walked off down the mall together, the leash hanging between them.

“Hey,” Sumner said, coming over to us, “quite a show, huh?”

Casey was just staring at him, with a sudden sparkle in her eye that I didn’t like, so I said, “Sumner, this is Casey. Casey, this is Sumner. He’s an old—”

“Family friend,” Sumner put in. “I like to think I’m more than just one among the crowd of Ashley’s ex-boyfriends. I want to believe I made my mark.”

“You did,” I said. He had to know how important he was. “You were the best of all of them.”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“How old are you?” Casey asked him, her head cocked to the side like she was Nancy Drew solving a mystery.

“Twenty-one,” Sumner said, glancing down at his uniform. “And it shows, doesn’t it?”

“Not really,” Casey said, and her voice was different, long and drawling. And I didn’t like the way she was standing, either, all cutesy in her big shirt and cutoffs, smiling at Sumner like he was some guy at camp.

“Well, we better go,” I said, wanting to move on. Suddenly I wasn’t so sure I wanted to share Sumner with Casey, who saw boys only as people to take shirts from and pine for. I wasn’t sure I wanted to share him with anyone. “I’ve got to get home.”

“You do not,” Casey said, using that same voice on me now, high and flirty. “God, Haven’s always having to go home and do something, isn’t she? She’s such a good girl.”

I looked at her. “I am not.”

“Oh Gawd,” she said, “honestly. Anyone looks bad compared to you, Little Miss Do Whatever Anyone Wants You To.”

Sumner looked at me, then said, “Ah, but you do not know Haven as I do.”

“I’ve known her all my life,” Casey said, now smacking her gum, which she thought made her look cool (she was wrong), “and I know.”

“She’s a wild one,” he said, grinning at me, making it up on the spot. I loved it, every bit. “Maybe sometime she’ll tell you about it.”

Casey looked at me, still smacking. “You must have the wrong girl, Sumner.”

“Nope. That’s her,” he said, pointing at me as he turned to walk away. “I know. Take it easy, Haven. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Casey called after him, waggling her fingers. She waited for him to get lost in the crowd and then said, “Why didn’t you tell me about him? He’s so cute.”

“He’s just Sumner,” I said. “He dated Ashley forever.”

“Well, he’s fine as hell,” she said, using another expression she’d picked up at camp. “All this time you’re after some guy at the mall and you didn’t even tell me.”

“It’s not like that,” I said.

“Why not? You should be after him, big time. He seems to like you already. Can you imagine, you dating a college boy? That would be so cool!”

“He’s my friend,” I said, amazed that Casey could take Sumner away from me and twist him into something else, something almost dirty. That wasn’t what he was to me.