All I Need, Page 2

  Skye laughs and twirls around. The breeze blows her hair back. The sound of her laughter blends with ocean waves crashing.

  I realize we walked a long way. The party is this tiny point in the distance. We probably should turn back soon.

  But for now, it’s just us. Our instant connection is undeniable. I watch Skye watching the sunset colors glowing on the water.

  There might never be another chance like this again.

  When Skye turns to me, I don’t think. I pull her close to me.

  And I kiss her.

  three

  Skye

  sweet days of summer

  HOW IS it possible to feel like you’ve known someone your whole life when you just met him yesterday?

  The way I feel when I’m with Seth is how I’ve always wanted to feel with a boy. That dizzy, can’t-think-about-anything-else butterflies sensation that sweeps you away and changes you forever. The kind of crazy romantic movie love you always hoped was real. The kind of love you wish for your whole life and then, before you know it, it’s already happening.

  I can’t stop smiling when I’m with Seth. I can’t stop wanting to touch him. And that kiss . . .

  I’ve heard that when you meet a soul mate, you have an instant connection right from the start. Which is exactly what I have with Seth. I know how crazy that sounds. We just met. Yeah, we’ve already kissed, but I’m sure Seth was just overcome by the magic of last night the same way I was. He hasn’t even tried to hold my hand today and we’ve been hanging out for a while.

  When Seth asked me what my thing was, this is what I couldn’t tell him: My thing is that I’m in love with love. Actually, I’m in love with the possibility of true love. Which could be considered a major problem. I wasn’t entirely happy with any of the boys I’ve been with. I’ve always felt like something was missing. A lot of people say true love doesn’t exist. But I never stopped hoping it did. I want to be swept away. I need to be swept away.

  And now he’s here.

  “What kind are you getting?” Seth asks.

  “Hmm?” I try to pull out of my love haze. It’s not easy.

  Seth points to the flavor board at the front of the snowball place. Everyone just calls it the “snowball place,” but we’re technically at Cold as Ice. Their sugar packets are adorable. They say COLD AS ICE with a smiling snowball.

  “I’m getting spearmint lemonade,” he says.

  “Ooh, that’s an excellent combo!”

  “I try.”

  “I’m getting watermelon tangerine.”

  “Have you tried them all?”

  “What do you think?” I lean closer to him so our arms touch. How he wears his little cousin’s friendship bracelets is so freaking cute. I should really calm down the hormones before I scare him off completely. But I can’t help it. It’s like I have to touch him or I’ll die. It takes an enormous effort to pull my arm away.

  “I think you’re a snowball fiend,” Seth decides.

  “See how well you know me already?”

  We move up in line. My arm longs to touch his arm again.

  “What’s the difference between a snowball and a snow cone?” Seth asks.

  “Snow cones have coarser ice. Snowball ice is smoother.”

  “Like Italian ice?”

  “Not that smooth.”

  “You know a lot about ice.”

  “Doesn’t everyone?”

  Seth laughs. We order our snowballs. He insists on treating.

  “Then I’ll treat next time,” I say. Because of course there will be a next time.

  The place is packed. It’s always packed when it’s broiling out. We grab the only two seats left. For a while we just eat our ice. Avoiding what we don’t want to talk about. Seth is leaving tomorrow. He starts college in two days and my junior year starts in two weeks and we’ll be worlds apart. And I don’t even know where he’s going.

  “So where are you going to college?” I ask.

  “This might sound weird,” he says, “but could we ignore all that post-summer harsh reality for now? This is the first time I’ve been happy all summer. I just want to escape for a little longer. I mean, if you’re okay with that.”

  “Totally.” He’s right. This is so much better. We’re transcending all of the everyday noise. If anyone understands about extending summer for as long as possible, it’s me. It’s like we’re in our own world where we make the rules and nothing can bring us down. But I’m wondering why he wasn’t happy before.

  Seth looks at me. “I like escaping with you,” he says.

  “I like escaping with you, too.”

  He’s still looking at me. Is he going to kiss me again? Please let him kiss me again.

  “Your tongue is red,” he informs me.

  “Yours is green.”

  “We’re the ones that look like Christmas.”

  I nod.

  “Hey, you,” he says.

  “Hey.”

  “No, it’s from that Cure song. ‘Hey You!’”

  “Oh.”

  “They mention Christmas in a few songs. ‘A Christmas card in sepia’ from ‘Strange Attraction.’ ‘Laughing at the Christmas lights’ from ‘Let’s Go to Bed.’”

  I bite my lip.

  “Yeah, we need to get you acquainted with eighties music.”

  “Some guy once told me it’s the best.”

  “Sounds like he has good taste.”

  “Oh, he does.”

  “Let’s roll.”

  “Where to?”

  “Where we can literally roll.”

  “The rink?”

  “You know you want to.”

  “Sweet!” The roller rink is so much fun. I’ve been there a bunch of times. It’s kind of run-down, but it’s retro in the best possible way. It has a major eighties vibe. There are posters of old shows like The Cosby Show, Family Ties, Growing Pains, and Punky Brewster. Smurfs are jumbled on the ledge behind the bar. There’s a Garfield garbage can in the bathroom. Pac-Man and Asteroids video games line the wall. They only play eighties music, which I guess is why Seth wants to go. Unless he’s just into roller skating. Which would make me like him even more.

  You can see the rink’s neon sign from way down the boardwalk. WHEEL IN THE SKY glows in bright purple neon. A pair of roller skates with hot-pink wheels dangles from the S, their lime-green laces tied to the bottom of it.

  Out of all the cool relics at the rink, the best one is the old-school photo booth. Adrienne and I take a couple strips of us each year. She has hers tacked to her bulletin board. I always put our most recent photo strip up in my locker when school starts. The rest are in a special box back home. Whenever I open the box, I’m transported right back to summer.

  “Shall we?” Seth says in front of the photo booth. He whisks the curtain aside and waves me in.

  I scrunch over on the little bench. Seth pulls the curtain closed behind him. He presses up against me.

  “Sorry, am I squooshing you?” he says.

  “No, I’m good.” He is so squooshing. I am so loving it.

  “Should we do the same expressions?”

  “Let’s just see what happens.”

  “Game on.”

  Right before the first flash pops, I catch Seth checking out my expression in our reflection in the glass. He does this for the next two shots. When the photo strip comes out, I see that he matched my expression for the first three shots. We’re exaggerated serious in the first one. Cross-eyed in the second. Laughing in the third. In the fourth one, I’m doing a kissy face and he’s scratching his head like he’s confused.

  Seth rips the strip in half.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Pick your half.” He holds the pieces out for me to choose. I take the laughing/kissy/confused half.

  We get our skates and go over to sit on one of the benches circling the rink. The rink is a hardwood circle with a smaller carpeted circle in the middle. I learned how to roller-skate on the carpeted pa
rt my first summer here. It took me a while to find my balance. I kept zooming out onto the main part before I was ready. Which is why I kept falling on my butt. It would be awesome if I had that falling-on-my-butt problem worked out by now.

  “Ready?” Seth asks.

  “Ready.” I stand up, wobbling a little.

  We hit the hardwood. It always feels like my wheels are going to fly out from under me when I first start skating. But I get the hang of it after a few minutes. Seth is really good. He even skates backward. I’ve never been able to pull that off.

  A new song comes on. Seth goes ballistic.

  “This is my jam!” he yells over the music.

  “What is it?” I yell back.

  “‘Perfect Way.’ Scritti Politti. Please tell me you’ve heard this before.”

  I shake my head.

  “You’re killing me!” Seth fake stabs his heart. He does a few spirals as if he’s falling to a slow, painful death.

  We whip around the rink. There are only a few other people here, which is a total invitation to zigzag between them. An epic song comes on. It’s “Take It on the Run” by REO Speedwagon. I’m so excited to not only recognize a song but have one come on that I love.

  “I love this song!” I yell.

  “You know REO?” Seth yells back.

  “Of course!” Before I can stop myself, I’m busting out with cheesy hand motions to go with the song. Seth cracks up when I attempt the guitar solo on one skate. We’re going too fast for me to be skating on one skate.

  Just like all those times before, I fall flat on my butt.

  four

  Seth

  back to the basics for you

  I REACH down to help Skye up. I’ve been dying to touch her all day. The adorable way she just fell is a perfect opportunity.

  “You okay?” I ask.

  Skye reaches for my hand. I pull her up. When she wobbles on her skates, I put my arms around her. She presses up against me.

  “I’m okay,” she says.

  It takes me a minute to let her go. I wanted to hold her hand when we were walking around before. And at the snowball place I really wanted to kiss her, to taste her sweet tangerine lips on mine.

  But I have to chill.

  If I touch her and kiss her like I want to, I will be in it again. I cannot go there. This might be the last time we even see each other. I’m amazed my dysfunctional heart is still beating after the stomping it endured. At graduation. By a girl who said she loved me. Who dumps her boyfriend at graduation?

  Oh, wait. My ex-girlfriend does.

  Turns out Chloe had a whole graduation speech prepared just for me. She didn’t want us to be tied down at college. It would be too painful to only see me a few times a year. She even whipped out the classic long-distance-relationships-never-work excuse. To make things even more surreal, she dumped all this on me while we were in our caps and gowns before the ceremony. We were in the gym with the rest of our class, waiting to file out onto the football field. At least she pulled me over to a corner to break up with me. But everyone could tell what was happening. In the space of five minutes, Chloe annihilated everything we were. Everything we could have been.

  I took a chance on giving her that bear for Valentine’s Day. The second I saw it, I knew she would love it. I knew I had to finally show her I liked her. The bear was a sign that it was time to stop being afraid. Chloe said yes when I asked her out. Everything was going smoothly. I never imagined we would crash and burn.

  This was supposed to be the best summer ever. My last summer of freedom. Instead, I wasted most of it moping around the house. Not wanting to go anywhere. Not wanting to do anything.

  But now Skye is grabbing my hand. We’re pushing off on our skates. She’s flying even faster than before. And she knows “Take It on the Run.”

  Things are looking up.

  When we’re all skated out and sitting on the side, a group of girls having a birthday party skates by. One of the girls is throwing confetti at her friends. Some of it lands on us. Skye looks like she’s five, smiling all big as she squeals at the confetti. She scoops some of it off the bench and puts it in her pocket. I’m not surprised she wants to keep some. The confetti is sparkly. Skye seems like a girl who digs sparkly things.

  I make a mental note to do something with confetti in a future collage. Maybe I’ll make one for Skye.

  “Bye, photo booth,” Skye tells the photo booth on our way out. “Until we meet again.”

  “Have you been to Red Bank?”

  “Yeah.”

  “That town is trying too hard. People keep saying how arty and cool it is. I’m like, yeah, if your definition of arty is contrived coffeehouses and chain stores. But there’s this one store with another vintage photo booth.”

  “Anywhere with a vintage photo booth rules.”

  “They also have worry dolls.”

  “I love worry dolls!”

  “Of course you do.”

  Holding the door open for Skye, I wave to the guy behind the counter. Skye doesn’t notice. Which is a good thing. The guy behind the counter is my dad. Who wasn’t supposed to be here until later. I almost skated into the couple in front of us when I saw him come in. Skye thought I was just getting us drinks, but I snuck over to my dad and asked him to ignore us. I don’t want Skye to know he owns the rink. Dad’s cool with giving me privacy when girls are involved. He’s been getting cooler lately in general. All he wears now are the threadbare T-shirts and ripped jeans I saw him wearing in pictures from college. Plus he’s talking about getting a motorcycle. I even saw travel catalogs in his room for places like Iceland and Australia.

  Skye clearly loves it here. I knew she would, which is why we came. I’m sure she’d want to meet my dad. But it’s kind of embarrassing how hardcore old-school this place is. Unrenovated. Falling apart. The ceiling leaks in a downpour. One look at the enormous houses on the hill told me that this girl is used to the finer things. She expects a certain level of elegance. It’s one thing for her to have fun at the rink. Discovering it belongs to my dad might be a turnoff. Her dad’s probably one of those world-renowned doctors who’s impossible to get an appointment with. As long as Skye is helping me escape, I want to be the guy who can bring it on her level.

  Today has been amazing. It’s refreshing to hang out with someone who doesn’t know me as The Boy Who Got Dumped at Graduation. All that anguish evaporates when I’m with Skye. If I introduced her to my dad, I’d be taking one step closer to letting her in.

  Cannot. Go there.

  As we walk along the boardwalk, I debate whether or not to hold Skye’s hand. She suddenly stops in front of a game stand. It’s that weird one where you have to spray water in the clowns’ mouths.

  She sighs dramatically. “I heart him.”

  “Who?”

  “Him.” She points to the row of stuffed animals hanging above the clowns. “The purple unicorn.”

  “Should we try to win him?”

  “He is elusive. I’ve tried a bunch of times. But I have horrible aim. I’d try again, but I actually have to go.”

  My heart drops. I was hoping we could hang out some more tonight.

  “There’s this stupid dinner party my parents throw every year,” she explains. “I’m like required to be there.”

  “Sounds like a rager.”

  “Oh, it’s some wild times. The neighbors invade our house to rant about the lack of quality cleaning ladies and brag about where they’ll be wintering.”

  “Scintillating conversation.”

  “But you can meet up tomorrow morning before you leave, right?”

  “Totally. Should we meet at the seagull at nine?” The seagull is this seagull statue back where the boardwalk starts. It’s where we met up today.

  “Okay.”

  I’m trying not to think about what happens after tomorrow. After we say goodbye. I’m going to give Skye my contact info tomorrow. Hopefully, she’ll give me hers.

  Skye h
ugs me. I hug her back. I really want to kiss her. But it’s awkward. People are strolling by. This boy across the boardwalk is arguing with his dad that cotton candy won’t spoil his dinner. And it’s been sweltering all day. I don’t want to know what I smell like.

  “So . . . see you tomorrow,” Skye says.

  “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

  Then we go our separate ways.

  five

  Skye

  the summer’s out of reach

  I CAN’T stop thinking about Seth.

  The last time I saw him was two months ago. He hugged me on the boardwalk. He said he’d see me tomorrow.

  But he never showed up.

  I waited at that stupid seagull for an hour. Every time I see it, I’ll be reminded of how expertly Seth played me.

  Except it didn’t feel like he was playing me. It felt real.

  An orange leaf falls on our table in the courtyard. The breeze scrapes the leaf along the worn wooden surface, then wedges it against Jocelyn’s water bottle. The leaf is offensive. It’s orange. It fell off a tree. And this breeze isn’t like the soft breeze at the beach when Seth kissed me. This breeze is chilly. It’s all a harsh reminder that summer ended a long time ago.

  I pull the sleeves of my sweater over my hands.

  “Maybe I’ll wrap myself in a big red bow and let him do dirty things to me,” Kara says.

  “Like he doesn’t do dirty things to you already,” Jocelyn snickers.

  “Well, these can be new things. Boys need sexual adventure or they get bored.”

  “I highly doubt Dillon is bored,” I say.

  “I totally caught him checking out that girl at the mall, remember?”

  “The porn-star wannabe?”

  “No, the one who looked like Lani.”

  “Do you seriously think anyone could compete with you?”

  Kara is gorgeous. Boys take one look at her emerald eyes and long, black hair and are reduced to slobbering idiots. It happens everywhere we go. She’s part Colombian, so she has this whole exotic thing going on. Kara has been known to flirt with supercute boys, but just for fun. She’s been with Dillon for almost two years. Their anniversary is coming up. Kara wants to surprise him with something special.