Truthfully, I still did from time to time.
“First of all, he was only eighteen when that song came out, but he was super talented. He was a musical virtuoso at camp. Also, we aren’t talking about this. When will you let my embarrassing tween obsession die?”
Not tween—teen. And if I was being honest, I’d still probably squeal and flap my hands with big sloppy tears if he held a concert.
“Never. I will never let that die. That’s what friends do. They keep you humble by rehashing your most embarrassing memories. Preferably at the absolute worst times.” Gretchen blew me a kiss.
I tilted my head with a wry smile. “Gee, thanks.”
“Will someone play the song before I lose my clucking mind? Otherwise, it’ll be stuck in my head all week.” Suzie’s voice got higher with impatience.
“I haven’t heard this in forever,” Roxy said as music from her phone filled the air.
As though we’d rehearsed it, we all started singing the chorus and throwing our arms out. “‘But you, you’re looking at him.’”
Instantly, I was filled with a soothing reassurance that only thinking of your most adolescent feelings can resurrect; when everything felt so bright and shiny and possible. It was hokey and angsty—everything a sixteen-year-old girl needed. We all had that song that lifted us in our darkest mood. That song will forever remind me of the happy times before camp ended the way it did.
“It’s all very dramatic,” Roxy said over the song.
“Oh, you love it.” Blithe poked her shoulder.
When the music stopped, I had hoped the previous topic would have been abandoned. Not likely with Gretchen around.
“Okay, the notes. Explain.” Like a hound dog on scent, that one.
“Fine.” I made a face at her. “Roddy was first chair violin and basically the quarterback of the symphony.”
“Heh. Nerds.”
I shook my head at Gretchen.
“He was very popular—everyone loved him. They were drawn to him, really. He’d play Oasis on his guitar at night around the campfire and we’d all swoon. He was just inherently cool, you know? When we started hanging out, I felt like somebody. It was just in the summers, and totally innocent. Though I did get to second base with him once on a boat.” I wiggled my eyebrows saucily.
I kept my tone light, leaving out the memories I preferred not to think about. I never talked about the dark side of my last summer there. I didn’t want to be the one that still felt broken.
“Summer love,” Roxy said dryly.
“What about the notes then?” Suzie asked.
“Oh. All the time, he left me these notes about my playing in my cello case.”
Gretchen had gone a whole two minutes without talking so she felt the need to say, “She still has them. They’re mean.”
“They were helpful,” I corrected. “He was the only one who didn’t suck up to me or treat me like this delicate flower. I liked it.”
“She was obsessed.”
I had a shoebox with all of them still in my closet. It would be a toss-up between that box and my cello if the house caught on fire and I could only save one. Honestly, the cello could be replaced. Those notes though? They got me through the worst times. Through rehab. I knew it was silly. I knew I was a romantic, but there was something about always knowing somebody believed in me that gave me strength.
“So romantic,” Blithe said on a yawn. “And now he’s back.”
“He said he wants to get to know me again,” I explained.
“Is that what you want?” Roxy asked.
“I think so, but I need to focus on helping Devlin first.”
“I’m glad to see you doing this,” Gretchen said with rare sincerity. “A little change of pace might be good.”
