Fifteenth Summer - By Michelle Dalton Page 0,28

friends of his.”

“Well, how do you explain the fact that he didn’t invite me to the main event?” Abbie said, jabbing her thumb in the direction of a passing lantern that was about six feet tall and made to look like a tree, complete with a robin’s nest and a squirrel scampering up the trunk.

“You’re all confident and stuff,” I said. I couldn’t help but get that dig in. “Go and ask him!”

I gave her a little shove in Jason’s direction. Abbie glared at me, but then she slapped her remaining chips into my palm with a crunch and headed over.

Hannah and I grinned at each other.

“Okay,” she said. “One boy found. One to . . .”

Her voice trailed off as she spotted something—or rather, someone—at the other end of the refreshment table.

I followed her gaze to a boy pouring himself a big cup of sparkling water. He was dressed in khakis and a golf shirt, both of which were neat enough to give him a cute, preppy look but not so crisp as to make him look uptight.

His hair was blond and tidy. His face was sun-burnished and all-American, and he had earnest-looking blue eyes.

In other words he was exactly Hannah’s type.

“Is that—” I started to say. “Is he—”

Hannah didn’t answer me. She just pressed her cup into my hand and floated over to the boy.

“Liam?” she asked. Her tone of voice was perfect—mildly surprised and casually pleased to see him. You’d never guess that she’d been hoping for this moment for the past three weeks.

I tensed up as I watched the boy make eye contact with my sister. I squinted as his face went from blank confusion to recognition to . . . delight.

Delight!

“Hannah, right?” he said. He gave her a quick hug, then stepped back to look at her admiringly. “You’re back!”

Hannah shrugged. I couldn’t see her face, but I didn’t have to. I knew what was flashing in her eyes: triumphant relief, hopeful swooning, and just a hint of fear.

After the Elias breakup, Hannah had been single all year. She’d said it was because she was cramming for all her AP courses and applying to colleges, but Abbie and I knew that had been a convenient excuse. The truth was, she’d been truly heartbroken and afraid of being hurt again.

But now Hannah was in the lovely limbo that was Bluepointe. She’d left LA—the scene of her romance with Elias—and she hadn’t yet arrived at U of C, where she’d be with the same people for the next four years.

This was her moment to have a romance that was lighthearted and fun.

I knew that if I’d come to this conclusion, Hannah would have arrived at it also. For all I knew, she’d made a whole PowerPoint presentation about it. My sister really was that analytical, even when it came to love. Especially when it came to love.

As I looked at Liam’s sweet, open face, I felt hopeful for Hannah too. He looked like the perfect summer fling—cute and uncomplicated. What’s more, after hugging her, Liam had let his hand linger on Hannah’s arm. It looked like he was definitely interested.

I wonder what that’s like? I thought a little wistfully. To have a boy just grab you and hug you, instead of being all shy and proposing cryptic things like an anti–book club?

I popped one of Abbie’s chips into my mouth, took a swig of Hannah’s drink, and turned to face the party. Nobody seemed to take much notice of me. Clearly being lanternless at a lantern party immediately consigned you to the lowest social order.

I shoved the rest of the chips into my mouth, wondering how many minutes of this party I’d have to endure before I could drag Abbie and Hannah away.

I cast a sidelong glance at Hannah and Liam. His hand was no longer on her arm, but he was standing close to her—quite close—as they chatted. He poured her some sparkling water. He let his fingers linger on hers when he handed it to her.

I grimaced and grabbed another handful of chips. It was going to be a long night.

If I was a good and loyal sister, I wouldn’t have felt elated when I saw Abbie stalking toward me a few minutes later. She was so angry, you could practically see a cartoon scribble of smoke over her head.

Apparently Jason had turned out to be as jerky as he looked.

And I felt bad about that. I really did. But not as bad as I’d