I started sawing through the crusty bread. “I’m kind of nervous about the exhibition,” I admitted, unable to look at him directly while I said it.

It would mean coming face-to-face with Elodie again. I’d been able to justify keeping my past with her private before, but if there was a possibility he’d stay in town …

“Why?” His nose scrunched adorably when the dressing bottle farted out a huge dollop of ranch. “Penny?”

No, but close enough. “No,” I admitted. “My ex will probably be there. I don’t really want to see her.”

I almost wanted him to ask me who it was. I wanted to be put on the spot, so I would have to answer. I stared into his face with anticipation, waiting for him to ask. It would make things so much easier if he asked me straight up.

“I’ll run interference if you want me to,” he said, a glint in his eye.

Disappointment sagged against me. Still, I appreciated the offer and was reminded once again how different he was from some of the guys I’d grown up with here. On my few post-Elodie dates, Neanderthal boys had seemed intensely threatened by my bisexuality, finding reasons to be jealous even when there was zero cause for it. Or, worse, thought it meant I’d put out just because they’d paid for dinner. My skin burned at the memories. I could still remember the crude jokes and wet kissing noises some of the middle school boys made when Penny and I walked down the hallway arm in arm.

Levi stopped tossing the salad. I could sense him looking at me, and with a hint of self-consciousness, I said, “I might just take you up on that.”

He smiled faintly as he put the bowl of salad on the kitchen table.

I pulled the grapes and cheese from the fridge. “It feels like the summer just got started, doesn’t it?” I said. “Seems like just yesterday I was handing you the keys and telling you how to work the wonky dials on the washing machine.”

It had been a strange kind of summer, fast and slow all at once. Beautiful and sorrowful. A summer of possibilities and adventure and growing up. Now, so close to the brittle fall, I felt older all too quickly. It had been the other way around before I’d graduated. Then, summer break had made me feel young, innocent, wild. Not having bedtimes or homework made summer all the more delicious. This summer hadn’t been delicious, but bittersweet. With a start, I realized that in the future, if I ever had to reach back and point to the summer when it all changed … this would be it.