Page 138 of Summer Love

I pluck the cigarette from his lips, step forward, and grind it out against the railing.

“Give me a minute.”

I close the door and change: black leggings, sports bra, T-shirt, sneakers. When I come back out, Noah hasn’t moved.

“That was my last smoke,” he sighs.

“Good.”

We start running in silence.

The morning is misty, almost cold. No sound—just our sneakers on the gravel path and Noah’s breathing, short, too fast.

I hold back a smile. The other day, I was the one who went and got him, who made him get moving. Today, he’s the one who came.

We follow the beach along the boardwalk. The ocean is flat, pearl gray. Noah slows after three minutes, speeds up, slows again. I match my pace to his.

The pier emerges from the mist—first the pilings, then the railing and the wet planks.

“Want to stop here?” I ask.

Noah nods a little too eagerly.

“Good idea,” he manages, bent double, hands on his knees.

We climb onto the pier and walk to the end. I lean on the railing, facing the ocean. Noah stops next to me.

It’s the same place as last night.

Jace was here, leaning against the same post. Telling me about the helicopter, the hospital, Noah’s money. His fingers closed around mine somewhere between the trailer and here.

“I saw the video,” I say.

Caught off guard, Noah turns to look at me.

“Shit… he showed it to you.”

He runs a hand through his hair and looks down at the water.

“I didn’t know anything, Noah. Nothing at all,” I say, my voice rough. “I’m sorry. For him. For you, too.”

I hesitate, then ask the question I probably shouldn’t.

“With your grades, wasn’t there some scholarship you could’ve gotten? For pre-med?”

He gives a short laugh.

“I had the grades, but not the rest. The clubs, the sports, the volunteering—all the stuff that looks good on an application. I was working twenty hours a week at the diner, so I didn’t have the time. And the money was there—what my parents had set aside for school. Well… it was supposed to be there. I didn’t think I’d need a scholarship that covered everything.”

He stares at the horizon.

“Anyway, after the accident, my head wasn’t in it. Jace was in the hospital, my mom could barely stand, Avery was ten, and me… I let it all slide. The scholarship applications, the personal statements, the deadlines.”

“What about loans?” I ask.

“Federal loans covered next to nothing. For the rest, I needed an adult to cosign with me. And what was my mom going to take on—more debt?”

“I’m sorry,” I say again.