Page 57 of Stealing Summer
The click of my suitcase's stubborn zipper made it all too real—the end of another summer. For a moment, I let my hand rest on the fabric, feeling the texture under my fingertips—a tactile goodbye to the place and the people that had transformed me. With a deep inhale, I hoisted the last piece of luggage, its weight a tangible reminder that we were officially driving back, there was no stopping it.
"Here we go," I whispered to myself, heading towards the front door, reluctantly rolling the suitcase behind me.
As I stepped onto the sun-drenched porch, he was standing there—leaning casually against the railing, almost looking exactly like he did the very first time I saw him at the clubhouse this summer. Only I saw him in an entirely different light now.
"Reese?" My voice broke the silence, and he lifted his gaze, those green eyes locking onto mine. They were usually the color of the foliage surrounding us—a vivid, living green, but today they seemed stormy, as if reflecting his mood.
"There’s the girl I was looking for," He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Didn't hear you pull up. Why didn't you let me know you were here?" I asked, setting down the suitcase with more force than necessary, a pang of irritation breaking through my confusion.
He looked away, watching a leaf twirl down from an overhanging branch, taking its time before landing softly on the ground. "Just needed a moment to think," he said finally, his voice a low drawl that usually made my heart race. But now it just sounded distant, detached even.
"Think?" The word hung between us, as heavy as the humid air. Reese had always been an enigma, a puzzle I thought I had all summer to solve. But as the seconds passed by, I realized that maybe some puzzles weren't meant to be completed. Not now, anyway.
Parker pulled his suitcase through the front door, making his way toward the car. He paused by Reese, who was still leaning against the porch railing.
"Hey bro," Parker greeted him.
"Hey," Reese pushed off from the rail with ease. "Let's run it back next summer? Except we win that championship game next time.”
Parker grinned, his eyes lit up with confidence. "You got it," he agreed, pausing by the trunk of the car. "I'm gonna need the school year to recover from those fastballs, though."
Reese laughed, a sound I really started to adore this summer. "Nah, you’re a legend—you killed it this summer."
"Speaking of legends," Parker added as he opened the truck before tossing in his luggage, "you took that right hook like a champ." His voice was light but there was a glint of respect in his eyes. "And Boston already left early this morning, so I guess there won't be any excitement before we go."
"Yeah, I know." Reese's expression didn't waver, but there was a subtle shift in his stance. "I saw him before he took off. And don’t worry—no punches were thrown."
How did he catch Boston before he took off? Then it hit me, Reese must have been the errand that Boston had to make—but why would he go and see Reese?
"Ah gotcha," Parker nodded, tapping the roof of the car before heading back towards the cabin.
I leaned against the porch column, the wood rough beneath my palm. Something was off. His smile wasn’t genuine, and his tone was different. Last night he was all charm and passion, and now... he’s cold.
I saw Parker’s trunk still open, waiting for my luggage—a jarring reminder of reality impatiently waiting. I glanced at the suitcase and then back at Reese, trying to read his expression.
"Anyway, what’s going on?" I urged, attempting to keep my voice steady. I reached for the suitcase handle, but my hand hesitated, hoping for some sign from him, some indication that whatever thoughts were swirling in his head—he would share with me.
"Chandler..." Reese began, and I braced myself for the weight of his next words, ready to carry them with me along with my luggage, back to a place where summer seemed like a distant dream.
"Yes?" He didn’t call me that often, a word I used to love on his lips when he would let it slip but now it was darkened by his energy. This didn’t sound good.
His eyes, those deep pools of green that I'd found myself lost in time and again over the summer, met mine with a bittersweet intensity. "So," he began, his voice laced with sympathy, "This summer was amazing—more than amazing. I'm lucky you even gave me the time of day."
I felt my heart drop into my stomach. "Where is this going?" The question tumbled out, desperate to halt the impending words I sensed in his tone.
"Look," he continued, reaching for my hand. His touch, once electrifying, now felt like a goodbye. "I have a lot of shit I need to sort through here. You're going back to college, a couple of hours away and you should enjoy it."
"I can enjoy it and still be with you," I interjected, the hurt spilling over despite my efforts to hide my emotions.
"Nah, I’d be holding you back," he said, squeezing my hand before letting go as if releasing me with it. "I’m going to be wrapped up in baseball during the school year and I have some stuff to sort out. The last thing I want is you waiting around for me, trying to do the long-distance thing."
I swallowed, hoping he couldn’t hear the sound of my heart cracking open in two. "Reese, don't do this." My plea was barely above a whisper, my voice breaking with the unspoken acknowledgment of him ending this, whatever this was. How could he do this after last night? Did it not mean anything to him?
His silhouette was framed by the daylight peaking through around him, the perfect picture of the untouchable boy I'd somehow touched—even if it was just for the summer. "I have to do this…I can’t be selfish with you," he said, his gaze drifting to some far-off place. "But I need you to know that I care about you and that won’t stop."
Each word was a hammer to my heart, chipping away at all the pieces until it was completely shattered. I fought to keep my face composed, to hold back my protest. But instead, I nodded, acknowledging his words. Something had changed between last night and now, and whatever it was, it had taken the Reese I knew with it.