The Summer of Broken Rules

by K.L. Walther

I couldn’t find that vital balance between friends and boyfriend.

When Claire had died, fun died with her.

“My fingers are shaking.” I took his hand to check—they really were trembling. “Public speaking makes you nervous?”

“Sarah talked about her for months before her visit,” Wit said quietly. He chuckled. “It was like Taylor Swift was coming to town.” I half smiled. Sarah was the most devoted of Swifties.

🥹💔

Let’s pretend that this week isn’t ending. Let’s pretend that we will always be us—happy, sunburnt, and tangled up together.

“And by the way,” he murmured, kissing me back, “I don’t want Eli.” His hands went to my waist. “I want you.”

AWWWH STOP RN

“Aunt Christine texted me to get my ass over here.” “Why does she have your number but I don’t?” I blurted. Wit cocked his head. “You want my number?” “Of course!”

Of course, Sarah’s was not complete without quoting Taylor Swift, a line from the classic “Lover.”

Because I would’ve adored you, I thought. I adore you now, and I would’ve adored you then.

I was the girl who loved laughing with her friends in the sunlight, sleeping in a sandy bunk bed, and grinning while licking butter off the face of a beautiful boy named Stephen. That was the real me.

“Cheers to you, bud. Cheers to you and the nerdy hot girl in your way-too-fucking-early psych class!”

Wit sighed. “Okay, I desperately want to kiss you.” “Desperately?” “Desperately.”

“I know you don’t like hearing this,” I heard him say, “and I know I promised not to tell you, but you are pretty, Killer. You’re pretty, beautiful, stunning, mesmerizing.” He paused. “But that’s not all you are. You’re everything Claire said and more. Clever, funny, caring, lively, strong, brave—all of it. You are all of it.” He kissed the top of my head. “And I do know how much you adore me,” he whispered. “I just wish it was as much as I adore you.”