Summer's End,I Won't Save You Twice

When the SAT scores came out and I found mine had been withheld from the rankings, I was ecstatic. I immediately posted about it on Instagram.

“Finally get to go to Columbia with the person I love!”

The post had barely gone live when I scrolled past something that stopped my thumb cold: a new post from Derek Whitfield, my childhood sweetheart of seven years.

“From school uniforms to a wedding dress. Thank you for being by my side.”

I thought of the love letter he'd slipped me right before the SATs, and my heart fluttered as I tapped into the photo grid.

A wedding already? After seven years, it seemed we were both thinking about tying the knot. The timing felt almost too perfect.

But when I zoomed in, the face in the wedding photo was my best friend's.

My hand tightened around my phone, shaking before I even registered it, and my thumb accidentally liked the post.

A message from Derek came through a second later. “Caroline Simmons, the wedding's the day after tomorrow. If you've come to your senses, get over here and be Agnes's bridesmaid.”

“She's felt guilty about you all these years. But your college application getting changed to a community college wasn't entirely her fault.”

——

I stared at the two lines on my screen, frozen where I stood.

A midsummer breeze drifted through the window, and it chilled me to the bone.

What wedding? What community college?

Was the person on the other end of this conversation really Derek Whitfield, the boy I'd grown up with for eighteen years?

I typed a response, deleted it, typed again, deleted again.

Then my phone buzzed with a string of photos. Bridesmaid dresses. Every single one was a garish clash of red and green.

One look was all it took for my eyes to burn.

He knew. He knew red was the one color I couldn't stand.

Right after that, a voice message came through from Derek. “Pick one. And come over to the house tonight to apologize to Agnes.”

“You went around telling everyone she was a homewrecker, and she was gracious enough to forgive you. So stop throwing a tantrum and come set the record straight.”

Every muscle in my body locked. That was Derek's voice. I would never mistake it.

It was the same tone he used to turn other girls down.

“Sorry, I already have a girlfriend. She's wonderful. I'm crazy about her. And my only dream in this life is to marry her someday.”

That confession still played in vivid detail behind my eyes, and stacked against the casual, weightless notification he'd just sent me, the dissonance was unbearable.

My nails dug into my palms.

I thought of our graduation trip, how we'd stumbled onto a stranger's wedding and watched it together.

He'd laughed and promised he'd get me an even more stunning dress, give me an even grander ceremony.

So why was he marrying someone else?

I bolted out of my room, ran the length of Sycamore Street, and pounded on the door of Derek's house.

Agnes Fox opened it. Around her neck hung the seashell necklace I'd given her before graduation.

The moment she saw me, a soft, gentle smile spread across her face, and she took my arm to lead me inside.

Her long acrylic nails bit into my skin. She leaned in close and dropped her voice. “The night Derek confessed to you? I was already in his bed.”

“All four years of college, he and I tried every position there is. I just never expected you'd be dense enough to only figure it out now.”

Memory flashed back to the night of his confession. Agnes, holding up her camera, capturing the exact moment Derek dropped to one knee in front of me. The envy written plain across her face.

I'd gone home and framed that love letter. That same night, Derek had pushed back our date.

So even then, what we had was already tainted.

The realization hit like a physical blow.

I looked at Agnes's sweet smile and all I saw was something blinding and unrecognizable.

This was the same girl who'd grabbed a chair and stood in front of me when a clique of bullies came after me, who swore she'd have my back for life.

Now she was the one twisting the knife deepest into my chest.

I pulled my hand free from her grip. My fingertips were ice.

I drifted into the living room in a daze and found every surface covered in wedding decorations: red paper cutouts, fresh flowers, and balloons everywhere I looked.