Free The Summer I Turned Pretty by Jenny Han Page B

something important, like I was supposed to understand.
    But I didn't. I said, "Don't you do anything stupid either, butthead."
    He sighed and shook his head at me like I was a child.
    I tried not to let it bother me. After all, he was leaving, and things wouldn't be the same without him. At the very least I could send him off without getting into a petty argument. "Tell Dad I said hi," I said.
    I didn't go back to bed right away. I stayed on the front porch awhile, feeling blue and a little teary--not that I would ever admit it to Steven.
    In a lot of ways it was like the last summer. That fall, Conrad would start college. He was going to Brown. He might not come back next summer. He might have an internship, or summer school, or he might backpack
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    across Europe with all his new dorm buddies. And Jeremiah, he might go to the football camp he was always talking about. There were a lot of things that could happen between now and then. It occurred to me that I was going to have to make the most of this summer, really make it count, in case there wasn't another one quite like it. After all, I would be sixteen soon. I was getting older too. Things couldn't stay the same forever.
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    chapter twenty
    AGE II
    The four of us were lying on a big blanket in the sand. Conrad, Steven, Jeremiah, and then me on the edge. That was my spot. When they let me come along .This was one of those rare days.
    It was already midafternoon, so hot my hair felt like it was on fire, and they were playing cards while I listened in.
    Jeremiah said, "Would you rather be boiled in olive oil or skinned alive with a burning hot butter knife?"
    "Olive oil," said Conrad confidently. "It's over quicker."
    "Olive oil," I echoed.
    "Butter knife," said Steven. "There's more of a chance I can turn the tables on the guy and skin him."
    "That wasn't an option," Conrad told him. "It's a question about death, not turning the tables on somebody."
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    "Fine. Olive oil," Steven said grumpily. "What about you, Jeremiah?"
    "Olive oil," Jeremiah said. "Now you go, Con."
    Conrad squinted his eyes up at the sun and said, "Would you rather live one perfect day over and over or live your life with no perfect days but just decent ones?"
    Jeremiah didn't say anything for a minute. He loved this game. He loved to mull over the different possibilities. "With that one perfect day, would I know I was reliving it, like Groundhog Day?"
    "No."
    "Then I'll take the perfect day," he decided.
    "Well, if the perfect day involves--," Steven began, but then he looked over at me and stopped speaking, which I hated. "I'll take the perfect day too."
    "Belly?" Conrad looked at me. "What would you pick?"
    My mind raced around in circles as I tried to find the right answer. "Urn. I'd take living my life with decent days. That way I could still hope for that one perfect day," I said. "I wouldn't want to have a life that's just one day over and over."
    "Yeah, but you wouldn't know it," Jeremiah argued.
    I shrugged. "But you might, deep down."
    "That's stupid," Steven said.
    "I don't think it's stupid. I think I agree with her." Conrad gave me this look, the kind of look I bet soldiers
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    give each other when they're teaming up against somebody else. It was like we were in it together.
    I gave Steven a little shimmy. I couldn't help myself. "See?" I said. "Conrad agrees with me."
    Steven mimicked, "Conrad agrees with me. Conrad loves me. Conrad's awesome--"
    "Shut up, Steven!" I yelled.
    He grinned and said, "My turn to ask a question. Belly, would you rather eat mayonnaise every day, or be flat-chested for the rest of your life?"
    I turned on my side, grabbed a handful of sand, and threw it at Steven. He was in the middle of laughing, and a bunch got in his mouth and stuck to his wet cheeks. He screamed, "You're dead, Belly!"
    Then he lunged at me, and I rolled away from him. "Leave me alone," I said defiantly. "You can't hurt me or I'll tell Mom."
    "You're such a pain in the ass," he spat