Summer Boys #3: After Summer Read online

  After Summer

  A SUMMER BOYS NOVEL

  Hailey Abbott

  Table of Contents

  Cover Page

  Title Page

  1

  2

  3

  4

  5

  6

  7

  8

  9

  10

  11

  12

  13

  14

  15

  16

  17

  18

  19

  20

  Preview

  Also by Hailey Abbott

  Copyright

  1

  Beth lined up her bare toes along the edge of the platform and arched her body forward, extending her arms over the still, blue water. After a deep breath, she sprang into the air so gracefully, she felt as if she might actually take flight.

  But a second later, she sliced through the surface of the cool water. It felt smooth and clean. And for that first, breathless moment, Beth almost believed she was out in the ocean, swimming beyond the moorings in the bay at Pebble Beach, instead of in the over-chlorinated YMCA pool back home in Martin, Massachusetts.

  She almost believed it was still summer.

  She pulled long, effective strokes down the lane, racing to the far edge of the pool. Beth heaved her body against the water and imagined herself lengthening with every stroke. Faster, she thought. I have to be faster.

  She smacked her hand at the end of the lane and popped up to the surface, gasping for air. She stood, the water coursing from her, and peeled her goggles back from her face.

  “Best time yet!” her boyfriend, George, cheered, glancing at the stopwatch he held in his hands. He sat on a stack of kickboards, basking in the greenish glow of the fluorescent lights. “I’m pretty sure next time you may break the sound barrier.”

  Looking up at George, Beth took in the full impact of his hotness, from his curly black hair, to the snug navy polo that showed off his biceps, to his perfectly torn Abercrombie jeans, to his bare feet, which sported the fading tan lines of flip-flops.

  “I don’t know, sweetie. I bet I could shave off another few seconds…” Beth managed, swimming toward the steps.

  “Bethy, as your trainer, I give you my personal assurance that you are guaranteed to make the swim team.”

  Although George had sacrificed every free afternoon to help Beth prepare for tryouts, he was, first-and-foremost, her boyfriend. So she couldn’t put much stock in any of his assurances, no matter how sincere he was.

  “All bets are off this year,” she argued, rubbing her arms to ward off the chill from the water. “Maddy Echolls told me that her sister’s best friend goes to Boston College with our new coaches. She said they coached at this other high school last year and cut the varsity team in half because they have such high standards.”

  Earning a spot on the swim team was Beth’s number one priority. Beth had always been athletic in the general sense—she loved running and volleyball best—but the addition of these new coaches made the swim team an attractive prospect for her free time. After all, swimming was a close cousin to surfing, one of Beth’s favorite summer activities. At least the way Beth surfed. She could tread the dark blue ocean for hours, fighting through the burn in her muscles as she waited for the next big wave. The adrenaline rush from riding at the top of the crest was so intense that, as soon as she rode back to shore, she’d flip her board around and paddle back out to do it all over again.

  God, she missed summer.

  When it came to swimming, Beth knew her natural stamina would work in her favor, but she was anything but an expert in the finer mechanics of the competitive strokes. Hopefully her heart would make up for any technical slack.

  George had been listening to her stress out about swimming and coaches, with daily doses of new and unsubstantiated gossip, since their senior year began two weeks earlier. Even though Beth knew she was being annoying, George grinned down at her crookedly.

  “Maddy Echoll’s sister—who no one has ever met, by the way, which I think supports my theory that Maddy made her up—seems to have a lot of information on the swim team for someone who doesn’t actually, you know, swim.” He reached over and tapped his stopwatch against Beth’s swim cap affectionately. “Chill, baby.”

  “Okay, okay, you’re right.” Beth yanked off her swim cap and shook out her straight blonde hair. “Let’s get out of here. If you get the car, I’ll change and meet you out in front.”

  George leaned over and kissed her, his mouth hot. “Remember, the quicker you change, the more time we’ll have…in the car.” He waggled his eyebrows at her until she laughed.

  As George left, Beth quickly swam another length of the pool to get back to her towel. Once inside the dressing room, she dressed quickly, pulling on her jeans and a Martin High School sweatshirt. She toweled her hair to remove the excess water and then twisted it back into a casual ponytail. A junior girl stood in front of the mirrors, yanking each strand of her long red hair with an enormous cylindrical brush while her other hand worked a blow-dryer. Though Beth had seen her fashion-conscious cousin, Ella, use a blow-dryer, Beth still suspected it doubled as a torture device. She felt thankful for about the eight millionth time that she had George. He wasn’t the type of guy who cared about stupid things like perfect hair.

  All he cared about was Beth, if the wide smile he sent her from behind the wheel of his car when she emerged from the building was any clue. Beth ran around to the passenger seat and climbed inside.

  “You should come over for dinner tonight,” Beth told him. “My mom made your favorite.”

  “How can you think of lasagna at a time like this?” George said in a fake-tortured voice. “We’re teenagers with a free half hour before dinnertime.” He put his beat-up VW into gear, but instead of turning toward town when he exited the YMCA parking lot, he headed the other way. Out toward the woods.

  “Just enough time for some backseat wrestling?” Beth asked with a grin. She shot a glance at the tiny bench seat over her shoulder and laughed. “Remember the time you almost knocked yourself out because you sat up too fast?”

  She and George had spent a lot of time in that backseat, even before they’d finally gone all the way that past summer. Back before they’d actually done it, they’d planned how The Moment would be. Yet all their elaborate plans had faded when the simple perfection of the right time came upon them. Beth felt a thrill sneak down her spine just remembering that delicious, starry night in Maine. It had been a little bit more than a month ago.

  George parked the car in a small clearing just off a winding dirt road. A familiar trail headed deep into the woods, where sometimes, on the weekends, Beth and George would hike out and have a picnic near the river. Tonight was a Tuesday, however, and the place was deserted. There were only trees just starting to boast their rust and gold fall colors, the September moon beginning to rise between them.

  “I’m not going to knock myself out tonight,” George said, turning to face Beth and lowering his voice. “At least, not in the sense of banging my head into the roof.” He squeezed her leg. “I’ve got a plan.”

  Beth smiled as George reached over and pulled her on to his lap. It was a tight, cozy fit, but they moved into place with the ease of practice. He trailed kisses slowly along her jaw and finally settled on her mouth. His kiss was warm and deep.

  Beth sighed happily. It was hard to believe that she’d almost let this go. Last summer, she’d done something incredibly stupid, and was so grateful that George had still returned to her, despite the hurt she’d caused him.

  She said her thanks in each of the kisses they shared, mouth to m
outh and pressed against each other. One kiss because he’d forgiven her. Another because they’d gotten so close, so much closer than she’d believed it was possible to be with someone else. Another long, intense one because they’d been together a little longer than a year now and she felt like she loved him more than when they’d started.

  The crazy, messy summer was behind them, where it belonged. Beth wasn’t going to get confused again.

  Beth, as always, had spent the summer on the Maine seashore with her cousins, supersmart Kelsi and wild, beautiful Ella (who were sisters, and lived in Connecticut—though Kelsi had just started her freshman year at Smith), while the fourth part of the tight Tuttle girl team, Jamie, had been at a writing course at Amherst College. Over the summer, each of the girls had experienced her own romantic crisis. But now—after summer—for possibly the first time ever, Beth, Kelsi, and Ella were each involved in real, intense relationships. Jamie had just transferred to an elite New Jersey prep school for her senior year, so she was too busy to fall in love. But Beth and her other cousins were each experiencing the agonies and ecstasies of just that—being in love.

  It was going to be an interesting year.

  “I’m glad to be home,” Beth whispered, pulling away so she could look at George. He had that blissed-out, dazed look on his face, but he blinked.

  “Wait,” he said, peering out the windshield at the woods. “Did your family relocate to a log cabin?”

  “I’m talking about the summer being over, idiot,” Beth said, poking him in the ribs.

  He grunted. “Careful with the G-Man. I’m very fragile.”

  “Usually I wish summer would last forever,” Beth said, ignoring his ridiculousness. “I hate leaving Ella and Kelsi and all the cousins. But this year it’s so much better being back home with you.” She felt emotion swell inside her. “I love you,” she whispered.

  “I love you, too, Bethy,” George said in the same tone, and framed her face in his hands. His curly hair flopped across his forehead as he leaned in to kiss her eyelids. Beth felt a wave of tenderness sweep through her as she reached over to push his hair back.

  “You know,” George announced, drawing back so Beth could see his grin. “I think we should celebrate that love.” His hands moved down from Beth’s back to her backside, which he gave a fast squeeze. “Meet me outside.”

  Laughing, Beth climbed off of his lap and George dove over the headrest and landed facedown into the cramped backseat, kicking his legs.

  “That was graceful,” Beth said wryly, knowing his goofy moves were deliberate.

  “Come on,” he said when he sat up again, holding a large fleece blanket. “It’s time to answer the call of the wild!”

  Fall chill had just started to invade the air, and Beth’s skin prickled with goose bumps as she and George got out of the car. She curled into his open arms, and George enveloped them both in a blanket cocoon.

  “This is pretty romantic,” Beth smiled, leaning against his chest.

  “And it’s a school night!” George replied proudly. “This level of romance is usually reserved for the weekend.”

  His knees suddenly buckled, sending them onto the mossy ground with a thud.

  “Careful, George!”

  “Oh, yeah,” he teased. “I threw down. Threw us down, actually. What are you going to do about it?”

  “You’re dead,” Beth vowed. She shrugged out of her hoodie and flung it into his face.

  “As long as it involves full nudity,” George replied, with a mouthful of sweatshirt. “I’m okay with it.”

  A dry twig snapped in the distance, and Beth gave a start.

  “Who was that?” she whispered, her eyes scanning the dark woods. “George! Someone’s out there!”

  “Tick tock, Beth,” George said, laughing at her as he drew her close. “That was the wind, and you’re obviously stalling. Concentrate on me for a second or two here and I’ll even force myself to eat your mother’s lasagna—”

  “You love my mother’s lasagna!”

  “—and help you out with your English essay because I know how you hate those things—”

  “You’re the one who has an English essay, genius, which I was going to help you with, but now? Forget it!”

  “Genius?” George repeated. “Thanks. I’m flattered.”

  He was silly. Silly, sweet, and all hers. How could she possibly resist? Beth stuck her tongue out at him.

  George immediately leaned in for a sweet, hot kiss. Beth giggled into his mouth but then began kissing him back, letting their tongues meet in that easy, sensual way they had. George, as with everything in his life, sometimes got a little overeager when it came to fooling around, so Beth wasn’t surprised when he flung his arms around her, sending them rolling back onto the blanket. They wrapped their arms around each other.

  “I’ve got the goods in my back pocket,” George whispered, kissing Beth’s neck as his free hand dug around in the pocket of his jeans for the condom packet.

  “George, hang on,” Beth whispered, taking hold of his other hand, which was zooming in straight for the top button on her Levi’s. “I’m not sure this is the best—”

  “Oh, no, but it will be the best,” George promised, a sly grin on his face, and Beth found herself laughing again and tightening her arms around him.

  Ever since they’d lost their virginity to each other, over the summer in Pebble Beach, George had—like any red-blooded boy—assumed that sex was now on the menu every time they fooled around. Which Beth was fine with most of the time, but there were moments—when she was beat from swimming, for instance—that she wished they could go back to the way things had been, when she and George could just make out for making out’s sake. Factoring sex into the equation had changed everything, as subtly but surely as summer had changed into fall.

  But as she and George began kissing again, and touching, and undoing each other’s buttons, Beth didn’t want to stop. She felt as if the black night were shielding them, embracing them as they were embracing each other. This was right, this was now, this was what she wanted to be doing, with this boy, for always.

  Beth had never been so sure about anything in her life.

  2

  Ella waded through the hordes of girls on her way to the bathroom mirror. The first coed assembly of the year began in a few short minutes, and the girls of St. Augustine’s were in a tizzy. They clustered around the mirrors in the bathroom, talking excitedly and trying desperately to adapt the St. Augustine’s uniform from frumpy disaster into Catholic schoolgirl-chic. A few girls sat huddled around the open window, passing around a lit cigarette and fanning the errant smoke away. Though Ella had officially quit smoking last month, at her boyfriend Jeremy’s request, a knot of craving blossomed inside her chest. She held her breath as she passed them and fought the urge to sneak a quick drag.

  Then Ella bobbed and weaved through a pack of wide-eyed freshmen, nodding at a few sophomore girls she recognized. She laughed softly at the look of intense concentration the girls all wore as they smoothed blouses and fluffed hair.

  Once a week, the guys’ and girls’ sections of St. Augustine’s gathered as one in the big auditorium in the center of the private school campus. Most girls spent hours agonizing over these all-too-brief moments of coeducation. They worked hard to shine and sparkle every time there was the possibility of seeing the boys.

  A goal Ella knew about personally, since she’d once been the queen of primping to impress.

  Thank God I have Jeremy now, she thought, rolling her eyes at a frenzied-looking senior girl who was completely overapplying her mascara.

  With a happy little sigh, Ella performed a strategic dodge and claimed a position at the farthest mirror from the door. She smiled at her reflection.

  She’d rolled the waistline of her plaid kilt up exactly twice, the better to show off her long legs, which were still nicely tan from her summer at the beach in Maine. Her wavy, sun-kissed blonde hair had that almost-tousled look th
at made the boys drool, while not being quite messy enough to incur the wrath of Sister Margaret Alice.

  But Ella didn’t believe in working too hard for boys’ attention. She merely sauntered about and let the boys worry about impressing her. In the past, Ella had taken great pride in being unable to choose between the numerous hot boys who vied for her attention. Ella had always loved the all-school assemblies. Because—and she’d be the first to admit it—Ella Tuttle loved boys.

  St. Augustine’s boys were particularly delicious, with their navy blazers and ties. Ella thought so every September, when a summer at the beach had ended and she was back in New Canaan, Connecticut. They might not be summer boys—which meant that Ella had to be slightly more careful with them, since they didn’t conveniently disappear after a few months—but they had their own kind of appeal.

  But this year, Ella couldn’t care less who checked her out. And her primping wasn’t for anyone at St. Augustine’s.

  Ella Tuttle was actually involved in a long-distance relationship for the first time in her life. Jeremy had made the leap from Summer Boy to Official Boyfriend.

  Ella thought of the IMs she’d exchanged with her cousins Beth and Jamie that morning before school, and smiled to herself. Her cousins, it seemed, knew her better than anyone—well, except for her older sister, Kelsi, who was busy settling into college life.

  Beth had written: Is it true, El? Are you still WITH Jeremy? You haven’t shed him like you did your Steve Madden platforms at the end of August?

  And Jamie had chimed in: Bethy, give El the benefit of the doubt. She SO has it in her to be an awesome girlfriend.

  And they both were right, Ella thought with a toss of her luxurious blonde curls. Snarkiness aside, Beth’s comment had hit the nail on the head, and Jamie’s typically sweet, hopeful tone confirmed what Ella had always suspected about herself: that she WAS capable of being true to one boy and one boy only.

  And that boy happened to be Jeremy.

  Things with Jeremy had been completely different from the start, Ella thought, smiling as she pictured her brown-haired, brown-eyed, Seth Cohen-y boyfriend. And it totally didn’t matter that he was a thousand miles away. Okay, not actually a thousand miles. However many miles there were between her mom’s house in New Canaan and his parents’ house outside Philadelphia, it was way too many. Over the summer they’d been able to walk in flip-flops to see each other.