Second Chance Summer

“Well,” Henry said, looking a little shell-shocked. “Anything else?”


“And I was wondering if you could put this up in your window,” I said, as I placed the stack of posters on the counter and slid one over to him. I kept my eyes on his face, trying to see what he thought about what I’d just said, incoherent as it had been.

“That I can do,” he said, taking the poster and looking at it. “Casablanca,” he said thoughtfully. “Nice pick.”

“My pick,” I interjected quickly.

He looked up from the poster and gave me a surprised smile. “You like it?” he asked.

I could feel my face start to get hot, though by now I was finally tan enough to hide it. I found myself wishing I hadn’t said anything, feeling like this was joining the long list of things that had gone wrong during the conversation. “No,” I said. “I’ve never seen it. I’ve just… heard good things.”

Henry looked down at the poster, like it might have the answer he was looking for. “I don’t know, Taylor,” he finally said. “A lot’s happened in the last five years.”

“I know,” I said, feeling all at once just how embarrassed I was, like there had been a time delay on it until that moment. “Sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have… I mean…” Whole sentences did not appear to be forthcoming, and I had an almost palpable sense of relief that I would finally be able to give in to what my instincts had been screaming at me to do since I first stepped inside the store—that is, leave immediately. “Sorry,” I muttered again, turning away and heading quickly for the door. I had just reached for the handle when Henry spoke.

“Taylor,” he called. I turned, feeling a tiny flutter of hope in my chest. But he was just holding up my stack of posters. “You forgot these.”

I hadn’t known it would be possible to be more embarrassed than I had been, but apparently new and unseen depths were still being uncovered. “Ah,” I murmured. “Right.” I crossed toward him quickly, and grabbed the stack, trying to avoid eye contact as much as possible. But to my surprise, Henry didn’t let go of the posters right away, making me look up at him, into those eyes that still startled me every time with their greenness. He took a breath, as though he was going to say something, looking back into my eyes. But after a moment, he broke our eye contact and looked away, releasing his hold on the posters.

“I’ll see you around,” he said, and somewhere in my mind, I registered that this was what I’d said to him the first time we’d met again, on the dock.

“I think that’s inevitable,” I said, echoing his words back to him. I made myself smile as I said it, to take some of the sting out. I turned and walked, fast, to the door, and this time he didn’t say anything to call me back.

My pulse was racing as I crossed the street and walked toward the pet store. I yanked open the door with probably more force than I needed to. I had a feeling that it would probably be best for everyone if I could just be by myself until I shook off this jumpy, reckless feeling. But because of my brother’s social awkwardness, I had to collect the dog, and there was no way around it.

“Hey there!” Wendy said, smiling at me, even though I hadn’t seen her since I’d brought Murphy for microchip identification. But she saw my dog enough that she probably felt like she knew me really well too. “I’ve got your little guy here for you.” She reached under the counter, and I heard the faint click of metal. A moment later, she emerged with Murphy, whose tail started wagging when he saw me.

“Great,” I said, dropping the fliers on the counter and taking the dog. I placed him on the ground, looping his leash over my wrist, which turned out to be a good thing, since he immediately lunged in the direction of the kittens. I glanced down at the posters on the counter, and suddenly felt a surge of sympathy for my brother, having just experienced how humiliating it was to walk up to someone and get shot down. “So. Wendy,” I said, and she looked up from the computer, where she had been no doubt adding this latest service to our bill, “are you dating anyone?”

She blinked at me. “No,” she said, looking maybe a little concerned. “Um, why?”

“Just wondering,” I said. I pushed one of the posters across the counter at her. “Want to go on a date with my brother?”


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