Chapter 21: Lainey

Chapter 22: Tyson

Chapter 23: Hannah

Chapter 24: Lainey

Chapter 25: Tyson

Chapter 26: Hannah

Chapter 27: Lainey

Chapter 28: Tyson

Chapter 29: Hannah

Chapter 30: Lainey

Chapter 31: Tyson

Chapter 32: Hannah

Chapter 33: Lainey

One Year Later: Hannah

Acknowledgments

About the Author

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This one is for Kate, my trusted assistant and treasured friend.

The Summer Pact explores love and loss, touching on issues surrounding alcohol abuse, mental health, and suicide. More than 700,000 lives are lost due to suicide every year, and it is the fourth leading cause of death among fifteen-to-twenty-nine-year-olds. Please read with care. If you or your loved ones are in distress, call the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline for free, confidential 24/7 support.

Prologue

Hannah

I often wonder what makes our coming-of-age friendships so powerful. I know the usual theories…. That they fill the void of adolescent loneliness. That they give us a sense of belonging. That they shape our adult identities. All these things are true, but when it comes right down to it, I think it’s a simple matter of who was there by our side, bearing witness to our loss of innocence.

For me, that moment came late, during the spring of my fourth year in college. As my classmates and I studied for final exams and counted down the days to graduation, emotions ran high. We were excited about the future but weren’t quite ready to part ways and face full-fledged adulthood. At least I wasn’t. I couldn’t imagine life without the people who brought meaning to mine: Summer, Lainey, and Tyson. My best friends.

The four of us had met in the basement lounge of our dorm our first year, just days after we arrived at the University of Virginia. It was a Thursday night, the kickoff to the weekend, but none of us was in the mood to go out. Summer was studying at a corner table, her face buried in The Odyssey as she furiously highlighted passages. Lainey and I sat at separate tables near her. We had books open, too, but were spending more time on our phones. Tyson was kicked back on a sofa, watching a baseball game on the muted television.

We were the only four people in the room, and for a long time, nobody spoke or made eye contact. Summer was the first to break the ice, putting her book down, standing up from her table, and walking over to the sofa. She sat down beside Tyson and asked who he was rooting for.

“The Yankees,” he said.

I watched them out of the corner of my eye, admiring Tyson’s profile. With a strong jawline, high cheekbones, and flawless golden brown skin, he was decidedly handsome.

“Are you from New York?” she asked.

“No, D.C. But I hate the Orioles,” he replied matter-of-factly, not giving her much to work with.

“So you’re a Nats fan?”

“Sadly, yes,” he said.

“I hear you,” Summer said. “I’m a Cubs fan.”

“Ah, a Chicago girl,” Tyson said.

“Well, I’m from the ’burbs. Naperville.” She smiled. “But, yeah, I’m a lifelong Cubs fan.”

“Well. At least you guys have won a couple titles,” Tyson said.

“Yeah. In 1907 and 1908!” She laughed.

“Hey, it’s better than none,” he said. “I’m Tyson, by the way.”

“I’m Summer,” she said, then looked over her shoulder at Lainey and me, repeating her introduction.

“I’m Lainey. And I know nothing about baseball!” Lainey’s smile and energy lit up the room.

“I’m Hannah,” I said, feeling a wave of my usual social anxiety.

“Where are you guys from?” Summer asked us.

“I’m from Atlanta,” I said.

“Encinitas,” Lainey said. “Near San Diego.”

“Wow. That’s far,” Summer said. “How’d you end up at UVA?”

“I needed a change of scenery. And somehow, I got in!” She gave us another magnetic smile, her light brown eyes sparkling. “What about you guys? Why Virginia?”

Tyson cited in-state tuition; I told them my father and grandfather were both alums; and Summer said she had been recruited to run track and cross-country. Tyson looked intrigued, then promptly launched into rapid-fire questions about Summer’s events and PRs. She answered modestly, but her times were incredible. As we marveled at her 4:36 mile, Lainey quipped that she only ran when being chased.

“Do you find yourself being chased often?” Tyson deadpanned.

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” she said with a smirk and a toss of her long brown curls.

She was clearly flirting, but it seemed more playful than strategic, and despite how pretty she was, she didn’t seem full of herself.

Summer went on to ask about our majors, sharing that she was pre-med.