Fifteenth Summer - By Michelle Dalton Page 0,76

since!”

She gave Josh a poke in the ribs.

“I guess we have you to blame for that, Chelsea?” she said.

“Well, I—”

“Actually,” Josh said, looking down at me with an easy smile, “I just got an e-mail about a post-festival party at the dock. I was gonna ask you if you wanted to go.”

“Really?” Aubrey and I said at the same time.

Josh held up his hands defensively.

“Hey, I’m not that antisocial,” he said.

Aubrey and I looked at each other with matching one-eyebrow-lifted looks of skepticism, which made us both dissolve into laughter.

“Well, maybe I’m feeling a little more social these days,” Josh said, giving my hair a quick stroke. “For some reason.”

“We’ll be there,” I told Aubrey quietly. Then I shot a quick look at Josh. He seemed a little different, suddenly. More confident, more comfortable in his skin.

Was it all because of . . . me?

“Awesome,” Aubrey said, breaking into my thoughts with her bubbly response. Then she cocked her head like a dog listening for a distant whistle. “Music’s starting. Let’s go!”

She pushed through the crowd toward the gazebo, where a band was indeed setting up. It was a quartet of hipster dudes with lots of facial hair and old-timey instruments—an accordion, banjo, and fiddle.

“Ooh,” I said, fluffing up my purple poodle skirt. “My kind of band!”

A crowd gathered before the gazebo steps. Josh and I made our way toward its center. As soon as the band started up with a twangy rockabilly tune, everyone around us started dancing.

Josh looked at me with a touch of panic in his eyes.

“I’m a terrible dancer,” he admitted.

“Me too,” I said.

Then I started wiggling my hips around and pumping my hands in the air. Josh threw his head back and laughed, then shrugged and joined me.

Did we find each other’s rhythm and start twirling around as a beautiful unit, our love making us effortlessly graceful, perfectly synchronized?

Not even close. We were even more awkward dancing together than we were on our own. We were the absolute antithesis of Emma and Ethan.

And I was beyond fine with that.

At the end of the song, we fell into each other’s arms laughing. We pushed our way out of the crowd, and Josh said, “Let’s find the Pop Guy. I’m dying of thirst.”

We were headed to his rainbow umbrella when we were intercepted by Abbie and . . . Hannah! Hannah’s eyes were red-rimmed, and one of the spaghetti straps on her tank top was ripped. She was using her hand to hold her top up.

“What’s going on?” I said. “I thought you were with Liam.”

“She was,” Abbie said fiercely, “but she’s not anymore!”

It didn’t take me long to figure out who was behind Hannah’s torn strap.

“Hannah?” I said, my voice thin and scared. “Are you okay?”

Hannah nodded quickly.

“I am, I promise,” she said. “But I won’t be seeing Liam anymore.”

Abbie whispered into my ear so Josh wouldn’t hear, “He might not be walking for the rest of the day either. He got the big ol’ knee from Hannah!”

My mouth dropped open.

“You didn’t,” I gasped.

“I did,” Hannah said, glancing down at her broken strap. “He deserved it.”

I turned to Josh regretfully.

“I think I need a little sister time,” I said.

Josh nodded quickly.

“No problem,” he said, giving me a quick, sweet kiss. “I’ll see you.”

Hannah seemed a little shaky, so we went to sit on a bench that was hidden behind a cluster of tents.

“I’m getting you some blueberry lemonade,” Abbie declared. “Back in a minute.”

Hannah pulled her knees up to her chin and wrapped her free arm around her shins.

“I’m such an idiot,” she said, shaking her head.

I hated to agree, but . . .

“Why were you hanging out with that guy?” I said.

“I don’t know. It felt nice to get all that attention,” she said. “It’s been kind of a lonely year, you know.”

“But why did you want Liam’s attention,” I asked. “I mean, he’s cute and preppy and all, but he’s not exactly a brilliant conversationalist.”

“Yeah.” Hannah shrugged. “He’s just, you know, kind of normal. Average.”

“Hannah,” I said, “you’ve never made a C in your life. You need above-average.”

Hannah leaned her head back and groaned.

“So I’ve been told for forever,” she said. “I’m kind of over it! Or let’s just say I felt like taking a little break from my pigeonhole. Studious, serious, smart Hannah, you know?

The thing was, I didn’t know.

“I always thought it would be cool to have a place,” I said. “Like, an identity. Abbie’s an athlete, and you’re this pre-premed whiz.