That Summer Feeling

by Bridget Morrissey

I found myself mentioning as often as possible, as if the more I talked about it, the less painful it would feel.

No one could ever judge me too harshly if I judged myself harder and louder than they’d ever dare.

A white woman was running up the path, waving at me. She wore an olive-green sports bra with matching athletic shorts that showed her well-formed legs, and she had on a gigantic hiking backpack. The top crested above her head and the bottom hit below her shorts. Somehow, she moved as if it didn’t even exist.

We landed with a gentle thud, everything inside her bag absorbing our fall. My body was fully smashed atop hers, flush against her matching sports set. My hands got stuck in the space between her body and her backpack. Her own hands had such a tight grip on me in return that the pressure of it almost made me cry. It had been so long since anyone had held me in that way. It made me feel like I was fragile and worth protecting.

When we wiggled ourselves free, I offered my hand to help her up. “My preferred hello is a full-body tackle,”

“I didn’t hurt you though, right?” “Not at all. Are you hurt?” “Of course I am,” she said matter-of-factly. “Just not in the ways you can see.” She smirked until I understood she was kidding, then added, “I’m sorry for barreling into you. I think I caught a loose floorboard or something.” “You’re welcome to barrel into me anytime,” I told her. My stomach immediately did a little flip of embarrassment. Stevie looked me over, then tucked her hands under the straps of her gigantic backpack. “Good to know.”

“It was at the beginning of June. But I believe in celebrating all month long.” I stopped the both of us by pressing my hand into the crook of her elbow, then bent down and picked up a rock. “I got you this,” I said, giving it to her. “Happy birthday!” “A rock? Garland. How did you know?” “Please, you’ve been dropping hints nonstop.” “And you’re the only one who’s noticed them.”

“It’s you and me,” she said. “Against everyone else.” “You and me,”

Our interactions shot me with adrenaline in a way that was wholly unfamiliar. I felt wild around her. Spontaneous.

When he reached where Stevie and I stood, his broad, friendly expression morphed into something like shock. “Wait,” he said to me. “I know you.” I opened my mouth to speak. No sound came out. Instead, I fainted. Right at the feet of the man of my dreams.

The steady presence I thought I could rely on. Then he told me I romanticized everything. He said I put a filter over my struggles to make them more palatable, and it prevented me from showing up to the life I had.

So even if my soulmate happened to be here—and according to my own vision, he was—I wasn’t about to do anything about it. I was not going to be falling in love at summer camp.

“Are they weird? Like, they hide you so that you can’t date anyone?” “God, no,” Stevie said. “They just don’t want me to steal women from them.”

She was good at incorporating her brother into our conversations, but I wanted to know more about her. What did it mean to live nowhere?

The sunscreen mixed with the watery scent on her skin reminded me of even more safe things. Lying on my back on a pool float. Making a wish on a dandelion puff under the high-noon heat of a long summer day. If she got up again, I didn’t feel it. The last thing I remembered was the comfort of her body atop mine.

“You really have not changed.” “Yes I have,” Stevie told Tommy. “I’m much gayer now.” “Please,” Tommy snapped back. “Don’t forget that picture of us when we were like twelve, and you’re in the overalls, backward cap, and cowboy boots. It’s in the gay rights museum now.”

“Listen,” she said with a surprisingly gentle touch. “Please stop apologizing to me. You were genuinely scared. That’s not something I could ever be mad at you for. I just have a hard time losing. It’s completely my problem. Nothing to do with you. I’d be like this even if we’d gone across. Probably even if we won.”

liked Stevie. No. That wasn’t enough. I had a full-on crush on her. A heart-stirring, hands-shaking, forget-how-to-breathe crush.

“You’re not making my life harder.”

“Ever since you crashed into me at our doorstep and I saw the little freckles on your face, you’ve been the only person I’ve thought about that way.”

think that the floorboard outside our cabin got loose because the earth shifted when I saw you.”

She said things in a way that sent my pulse into my toes. I was feverish. Lit up and terrified and so completely hooked on her every word.

“There’s a thing a lot of people say about women when they date other women,” she continued. “I’m sure you’ve heard it. We fall in love too fast. We rent the U-Haul and move in together after a week. And that’s always annoyed me, even though to be perfectly honest, it’s happened to more than one of my friends. I still thought it was a boring generalization and that people lacked imagination. Until I met you.” She laughed, remembering. “I saw you and...

I instantly posed. “Why? Are you admiring me?” “Of course I am,” she told me. “Have been since the moment you arrived.” At that, I cannonballed into the lake. The plunge of cold didn’t feel like shock. It felt like relief because it meant I was on my way to her. No matter what my vision had shown me, I had always been on my way to her. And that was exactly where I wanted to be.

She drew me in for a kiss. My bottle rocket. Firecracker. Sunshine. She held it all, and when she kissed me, it gave me strength I forgot I had. I could do exciting things. I could be liked. I could be loved, if I wanted.

“Thank you for coming,” I said to him, really meaning it. “I know this isn’t how you imagined this going, but it was actually really helpful to me. I know now that I’ve always felt like too much around you. And I don’t want to feel that way anymore. I want to feel like I’m just enough.”

“I had a feeling I needed you in my life.” “It’s you and me against everyone else,”

“When I’m with you, I don’t ever want to imagine any moment other than the one we’re in,” I