Elin Hilderbrand - Summer People

“I promised Daddy I wouldn’t,” Piper said.

“Since when do you keep promises to your dad?”

“Since now,” Piper said. “I’d die if I got grounded and couldn’t see you. Besides, I’m not ready to tell Mom your name yet. First you have to prove yourself.”

He kissed her and bit her lip. “I intend to.” As soon as Garrett got his license, they were going to drive out to the beach and have sex. They’d decided this together, last night, when they’d made out on the beach and Garrett’s shorts were down to his knees and Piper’s tank top was pushed up. She made him stop. She said she wanted to wait until they had a car.

She was a virgin, she said.

A voice came over the loudspeaker: “Anyone holding a green boarding card please proceed to the gate.” Piper’s plane. She stood to go, her purse hitched over her shoulder. She blinked rapidly.

“I’ll have Daddy bring me over the second I get back,” she said. “Tuesday at four. Or four-thirty. Okay? Promise you’ll be home waiting for me?”

“Promise,” he said. He kissed her again until he knew if he didn’t stop, he’d never let her go. “Be good.”

She skipped out onto the tarmac, waving to him the whole way.

Outside, it was hot. Beth sat at the wheel of the Range Rover reading the New Yorker. She smiled when Garrett opened the door.

“Piper got off okay?” she asked.

“I guess,” he said. “Can I drive home? I have to practice for my test.”

“Sure,” his mother said. They passed each other in front of the car, switching seats. Garrett got himself buckled in behind the wheel and started the engine. Shifted into drive and eased out of the parking space.

“You’re going to miss her,” Beth said. “But you’re probably ready for some time alone. You kids have spent every waking second together. That’s not usually your style.”

“My style’s changing,” Garrett said. He and Piper had been together so much that he felt weird now, without her. He checked the air for her plane, wishing she could see him driving. As he turned onto the main road, he thought about the past two weeks. He and Piper sat out on the deck in the afternoons drinking Malibu and Coke, they swam, they walked the beach at night and made out in the sand. They rode their bikes to Sconset one day and had lunch at Claudette’s. They walked to Bartlett Farm to get Beth the first zucchini of the summer. They went to two movies. They played Monopoly with Winnie and Marcus-with Piper there even that was fun.

There had been only one bad night, the beginnings of an argument. Piper took Garrett to a bonfire on Cisco Beach where kids from her high school were having a keg. They walked there from Garrett’s house-a long walk in the dark-and Garrett stepped in a shallow hole and twisted his ankle. Piper stopped to inspect his injury. A little tender, she said, but nothing you can’t handle, right? You don’t want to turn back?

No, he said, it’s fine.

He limped along, enjoying the way Piper held him closer, cooing in his ear, rubbing his lower back. Then they saw the distant flash of the fire and the silhouette of bodies. Piper hurried him along. Her friend Jenna was going to be at the party and her friend Kyle. Garrett was uncomfortable as he hobbled toward the group. The fire was in a pit; it was smoky and a couple of people fed it newspapers and paper bags.

“All the guys at my high school have a car,” Piper had told him earlier. Garrett saw the vehicles lined up on the beach: Jeep Wranglers, a rusty old Bronco, and one brand new canary yellow Land Rover Defender series with all the bars.

“We’re here,” Piper announced to the party in general. There were high-pitched screams and girls came running up to her, kissing her, touching her hair. Just the way the girls at Danforth acted when they saw each other outside of the classroom-freaking out like they’d been separated by continents and decades.

Everyone was looking at Garrett; he could tell even in the dark. So many orange glowing faces. Garrett nodded in the direction of the male population who were either feeding the fire or standing around the keg. He took a deep breath. His science teacher had once told the class that nearly all pain could be managed by deep breathing. His ankle swelled.

“I need a drink,” he said.

A kid with a shaved head wearing a fisherman’s sweater held up a plastic cup. “Beck’s.”

“Nice,” Garrett said. Piper was completely encircled by friends, and so Garrett made his way over to the keg, found the sleeve of cups lying in the sand and poured two beers. He drank his down right away. His ankle really hurt and he could tell already he was going to have a sucky time at this party. He tried to remind himself that these kids weren’t as smart or sophisticated as the kids at Danforth. They drove their Wranglers on the beach, but Garrett was pretty sure they’d get lost taking the cross-town bus.

Piper tugged on his arm. “My friends think you’re cute,” she whispered. “Jenna actually said ‘ gorgeous. ’ ”

Garrett couldn’t hide his smile. “Am I going to meet them?”

“Later,” she said. “Right now I want you to meet my friend Kyle. He’s definitely here. That’s his Rover.”

“Okay,” Garrett said. “Let me fill up.” He topped off his beer. It was warm, but it did lighten his mood. “I’m not sure how long I want to stay.”

“We just got here.”

“What time is your dad picking you up?”

“Not until eleven,” she said. “Come on, there’s Kyle.”

They found Kyle on the far side of the Rover, lying in the sand, smoking a cigarette. A girl sat on either side of him. Kyle wore jeans and a gray tank top. He, too, had a shaved head.

“You guys all use the same barber?” Garrett said.

“Football team,” Kyle said. “Who the fuck are you?”

Garrett stepped forward on his good leg. “Garrett Newton. I’m a friend of Piper’s. Nice to meet you.”

“Garrett’s a summer person,” Piper said. “From Manhattan, New York City.”

Kyle regarded Garrett and blew smoke out his nose. “ ‘Manhattan, New York City,’ ” he mimicked in a high voice.

Garrett swallowed half his beer. He looked up into the sky and heard, despite his wishes, words from his father. These are her friends. This is her life. She wants to show it to you. Yes, it’s difficult, life is difficult. If you want easy, date a girl from Danforth. Date Tracy Hayes whom you’ve known since Montessori.

“I like your car,” Garrett said.

Kyle nodded, then he touched Piper’s leg. “Ronan,” he said. “Where’ve you been lately?”

“With Garrett,” she said.

“You were supposed to meet us at Ego’s on Tuesday.”

Piper swatted Kyle’s hand away, like it was a fly on her food. “I was busy Tuesday. With Garrett.”

Garrett laughed nervously. “You actually know someone named Ego?”

“Nickname,” Piper said. “My old boyfriend. They call him that because he’s so full of himself.”

One of Kyle’s girls stood up to get Kyle another beer and Kyle pulled Piper down into her place. Then he passed her his cigarette and she took a drag. Garrett shifted his weight. He couldn’t believe she was smoking. He was about to say something when Kyle slid his arm around Piper’s waist and pressed his face against her stomach to make a farting sound. The girl on the far side of Kyle, who looked completely stoned, burst out in giggles, and Piper pushed Kyle’s head away. “Gross,” she said. “You need to grow up.”

“I thought you loved my boyish charm,” Kyle said.

“I’m out of beer,” Garrett said.

He limped back to the keg and filled his cup, taking the tap from Kyle’s minion, then decided he was angry. Piper was smoking, she was letting this asshole Kyle touch her, she wasn’t introducing him to her girlfriends which was the reason he came. She didn’t seem to care that his ankle hurt. Hurt so much that he dreaded walking home, except that home meant an ice pack.