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say that I—never mind. I’m cutting that off too.” Summer literally went
behind June’s back and pointed a finger at Arabella. “Hurt her and I’m
going to come for you. If you think the lake had some sinister aspects, I
promise that you’ll regret it times twenty.”
“Only twenty?” June asked dryly. “I thought for sure that murderous
impulses would be up there with the times forty or sixty.”
“Times a hundred,” Summer amended.
“Infinity would be better.”
“Fine. Times infinity.”
Arabella bit down on her bottom lip, working it while she tried to think
of something reassuring, but her brain blanked. Eventually, Summer turned
back around, and June resumed eating popcorn and watching the activity on
the field like she was actually into it. She was probably the only one who
knew what was going on, no matter how much she did or didn’t like
baseball. When the right words finally came, Arabella twisted around to
Summer to say them, but oddly enough, Summer had a small smile in place,
and she looked perfectly content with handing out threats and then trusting
June to live her own life. It was quite mature of her.
The seats filled up around them, the national anthem was sung, and the
game got underway. Summer cheered at all the right and some of the wrong
times, clapping and hooting and shouting. She was clearly having a great
time, and even if she was forcing it, she was still trying, and that was
incredibly good of her. Or maybe she actually had a secret love for baseball
that she’d never let on about or she’d just discovered. Whatever it was,
Arabella was grateful. She felt warm and tingly inside in a brand-new way.
June had told her best friend that they were dating. It was out there. It
was real. Someone knew. And Summer was, well, maybe she was going to
be okay with it.
Halfway through the first inning, Arabella knew just enough to know
what it was called, June slipped her hand under the armrest between them
