“Yes,” I said, finally opening my eyes. “They sure did.”
“I should probably go,” she said. “It’s way past my bedtime.”
“I know,” I said, aware of how seriously Summer took her sleep.
She stood up to go. “So. We obviously aren’t mentioning this to Lainey and Hannah, right?” she asked.
“I don’t think we should. No.”
“Good. Because I think they’d make a huge thing of it—”
“Totally. And it’s really not a big deal,” I said, testing her, and maybe myself, too.
“Not at all,” she quickly answered. “I’m just glad we got that out of our systems.”
“Right,” I said, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. “Me too.”
—
Of course, it wasn’t out of our systems, and over the next few weeks, we found every excuse to be alone. We made out a lot, but I always put on the brakes. In the back of my mind, I was worried about ruining our friendship for what would probably be a fling. No matter how compatible Summer and I were, or how attracted I was to her, a long-term romantic relationship was impractical. I had three years of law school ahead of me, and she had four years of medical school plus her residency.
As we navigated that weird terrain, taking one step forward then two back, Summer and I found ourselves in an argument. It wasn’t our first, but it was one of the dumbest. In short, Hannah and I had gone to the mall, last minute. Neither of us had asked Summer if she wanted to come, both of us assuming she was too busy.
“Thanks for the invite,” she said when I called her later. I could hear in her voice that she was upset.
“Oh. Sorry about that. We figured you’d be training or studying—”
“I actually would have gone with,” she said, dangling her preposition in her cute Chicagoan way. “I still need shoes for graduation…. And you guys know I don’t have a car.”
I told her she was welcome to take my car anytime.
“That’s not the point.”
“What is the point?” I asked gently, really wanting to know.
“The point is—you and Hannah have always been this way.”
“What way?”
“Exclusive.”
I was shocked. We were a foursome, but we also hung out in every combination of twos and threes. I probably did the least with Lainey alone—but it was a toss-up between Hannah and Summer. More important, none of us ever kept score like that.
“You’re always going off with her,” Summer continued, citing a few examples, including a day trip we’d once taken to Washington, D.C., to check out a few museums.
“You had practice that day.”
“Well, I didn’t have practice today,” she said. “I’m injured. Remember?”
I suddenly realized that this wasn’t about the mall or Hannah. It was about the pressure of her sport and the nagging worry of her injury. “I’m really sorry we didn’t call you—”
She cut me off. “Has anything ever happened between you two?”
For the first time, I regretted that Summer and I had crossed a line. “Are you serious right now?” I asked. I was angry, but my feelings were also hurt.
“It was just a question,” she said. “You don’t have to get so offended.”
“It is offensive,” I said.
“And yet you still haven’t answered the question,” she said.
“And I’m not going to,” I said, hanging up the phone.
—
The following night, I went to a party. On my way home, I stopped by Summer’s room on the Lawn, knowing that she had stayed in to study for an exam. We hadn’t talked since our argument, and I was still a bit chafed, but I wanted to see her.
When I got to her room, I knocked lightly. She came to the door in a white sports bra and navy track sweats. Her hair was in a messy bun, and her eyes looked wide and frantic.
“Hi,” I said. “How’s the studying going?”
“Awful,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Okay. Well, I don’t want to bother you…I just wanted to see you…and say hi.”
She nodded, her expression too neutral to read, then said, “Do you want to come in for a minute?”
“I’d love to,” I said.
