Fifteenth Summer - By Michelle Dalton Page 0,77

You know, you’re defined.”

“But if you’re not, you can do anything!” Hannah pointed out. “You’ve got freedom!”

As she said this, Abbie returned and handed Hannah a plastic cup of purple-tinted lemonade. She sat down on the bench so that Hannah was sandwiched between us.

“Is that what you want?” she asked Hannah. “Freedom? Do you regret choosing such an intense school? Because you could always transfer to UCLA.”

She rested her head on Hannah’s shoulder.

“Please?” she added.

Hannah tipped her head to rest on Abbie’s.

“I’m going to miss you, too,” she said. “But no, U of C is what I want. Liam proved that to me. I mean, besides being way too handsy, the guy was a bore. Have you ever met somebody who’s never heard of the Human Genome Project? I didn’t think that was even possible.”

Abbie and I rolled our eyes at each other.

“Yeah, she’s ready for U of C,” I said.

Hannah shook her head in disbelief.

“It is coming up really soon, though,” she said. “I’m kind of terrified.”

I was too. Unlike Hannah, I’d never known a world without my two sisters in it every day.

So many endings were looming. This summer in Bluepointe. Hannah.

Josh.

But then my eye wandered across the square to the Dog Ear tent. It was still spilling over with people, many of them immobilized because they were so absorbed in their books. I thought about the blank journal Granly had left me.

I’d already filled a few pages. And it had started me thinking—maybe this summer wasn’t just about endings and good-byes. Maybe it was a beginning as well.

Choosing my outfit for the Allison Katzinger party required major strategy. I knew that she was super-stylish from the pictures she sometimes posted on her blog. She always wore big colorful jewelry and cute little dresses. She had a huge collection of funky glasses, not to mention rotating choices of hair colors.

I didn’t want to just look pretty when I met one of my favorite authors. I wanted to look memorable.

(Well, to say I’d be meeting Allison Katzinger was a stretch. What I’d really be doing was waiting in line for half an hour before I got to stand in front of her for ten seconds. She’d read my name off a sticky note and inscribe my book before giving me a quick smile. Then Isobel or Stella would usher me away so the next person in line could have his or her ten seconds. But still, even ten seconds with Allison Katzinger called for a killer outfit.)

The other problem was that for six hours before Allison’s party, I’d be at Mel & Mel’s, slinging supper. So my outfit also needed to be mayonnaise-proof.

That was why I might have gone a little overboard with the patterns. Nothing would show up on a tropically flowered skirt with gray, yellow, and purple in it, right? To tone the skirt down, I went with a simple gray tank top, but then that needed jazzing up, so I threw on one of Granly’s chunky costume necklaces and stuck some glinty chopsticks into my bun.

And then I felt so overdone that I wanted to change completely, but it was too late.

Luckily, I didn’t have time to be nervous/excited about the party, because we were slammed at Mel & Mel’s. I hustled for two hours straight, serving a group of office workers who’d come in after playing in some goofy kickball tournament.

I was just rushing a giant order of artichoke dip to the kick-ballers when Ginny swept over and lifted my tray out of my hands.

“I’ll take that, hon!” she said. “You’re on break.”

“Break?” I squawked. “What are you talking about?”

Melissa scooched up next to me, untied my apron, and looped it around her own waist.

“We’re covering for you, Chels,” she said. “No arguments. Josh has it all arranged.”

She nodded at the coffee shop door. I spun around and saw Josh peeking through the glass. As always, I felt my face light up at the sight of him.

“Josh!” I said as he opened the door. “What’s going on? I’m going to see you in just a few hours at the par—”

I choked on my next word. Because walking in behind Josh was Allison Katzinger!

She looked much smaller than I’d imagined. She was wearing a fabulous silky wrap dress and a chunky necklace just like mine. Her hair was a warm blond, and her glasses frames were red.

As soon as she walked into the coffee shop, with these long, purposeful strides and a big wide-mouthed grin, I