Izzy walked me to the door, but before I left, he said, quietly so none of his nearby family would hear, “I thought of one other embarrassing thing about me.”

“What?” I asked so quietly it was basically a whisper.

He stepped closer, like he was telling me a secret. “I told a girl I like her on a trampoline.”

My insides squished together: a softer type of nervousness. “That’s not embarrassing if she likes you back.”

“I don’t know if she does,” he whispered. Aunt Maureen honked from the driveway.

“She does,” I whispered. “So I think you’re good.”

“Phew.” Izzy looked like I’d just given him a really great present. It made me feel like I’d gotten one, too.

Tomorrow was Wednesday; there were only two days left of camp and then the art show and it would be over.

I didn’t want to leave his house. We’d only just . . . I don’t know. But I had to—Aunt Maureen honked again.

I stepped down to the porch and looked back, smiling up at him, smiling for real because of him.

“See you tomorrow.”

chapter 21

I sat on Colette’s boulder cross-legged with my sketchbook on my lap, adding finishing touches to her charcoal drawing. I’d worked on it throughout the day at camp, despite spending a lot of time staring at and daydreaming about Izzy. Even without my last-minute marks and smudges, I thought that the portrait was the best thing I’d ever made in my life.

Better than that, it was her.

I inhaled the smell of prairie grass and bug spray and smoke from somewhere in the distance, feeling something that resembled happy, though that was a hard emotion to even think about experiencing after Colette. But it was there, undeniably, and while I drew, my inner voice was quiet.

I was adding texture to the background when a shiny black truck I didn’t recognize turned toward the cabin and bounced up the gravel driveway. I made out Kennedy in the passenger seat, arm half full of bracelets dangling carelessly out the window, but the sun reflected off the windshield, obscuring the driver at first. That’s until the truck pulled around the cabin and parked, facing the boulder, between the back door and the shed. Then I could see him perfectly.

Seb.

Right in front of me, Kennedy leaned across the truck and grabbed the back of Seb’s head, pulling him toward her. They kissed like long-lost lovers in a movie, not even caring that I was right here! Kennedy patted Seb on the cheek, then slid out of the truck. Seb waved to me and backed away; I was too stunned to wave back.

Kennedy watched him go with her hand shielding the sun from her eyes, then turned toward me. She had on a tight black tank top with a choker, cutoffs, and white high-tops with graffiti sharpied all over them.