Summer Stories Novels & Stories

Not ever. Summer sat by the window, staring out into the darkness. The cold breeze from the open window brushed against her skin, but the chill in the air was nothing compared to the unease gnawing at her chest. Hilda had just left for the night, and now she was alone, consumed by thoughts of what Jessica was planning. Her mind couldn't settle, turning over the conversation she'd overheard earlier. Jessica's words echoed in her mind—When the foxes leave tomorrow, Summer will go with them.

Bethany's expression froze, the joy in her eyes vanishing as sheer panic took its place. The terror she felt was laid bare in front of Mitchell, and in that moment, it looked almost comical. Though it was the height of summer, Bethany felt a chill crawl over her skin, a chill that had nothing to do with the weather. She had already experienced the madness that Mitchell could descend into for Heather's sake, twice now, and the fear of reliving it a third time made her stomach turn.

Then Summer, wearing a yellow dress and holding her favorite sketchbook. When she saw Justin, she smiled wide. “Hi!” she said brightly. “Hi, Summer,” he replied, voice cracking. She ran to him and hugged him tightly. And he—he broke down. He held her like someone who’d lost the sun and finally felt warmth again. Cassandra sat across from me and watched silently. “I didn’t think he’d cry,” she said softly. “He needed this more than he admitted.” “I think I did, too.” We watched as Summer showed him her sketches. A whale, a rocket, a girl with a sword.

"I was never your man Sam..please stop with your delusions." It was how his words were harsh, but somehow, his voice was so collected they sounded like silent jabs. But she did get the message, she turned around to leave, looking back one more time and then coming back for her egg rolls before disappearing out of the doors. I wiped off an imaginary sweat from my brows. " At this point I am sure you know everyone I met here this summer" I joked. " I probably do. We all went to the same high school and even though we are all based in different parts of the world now, summer is still held at Malibu. Always at Malibu. It's like a tradition.

“Dad’s just in shock from the ‘state’ of the camp. Half-naked boys and you in a bikini.” Understanding flickered in her eyes, and she laughed. “There’s a lake right near the camp, Mr. Hart. It’s a welcome-back-to-summer theme. We don’t walk around half-naked all the time.” She smirked. “No matter how tempting it is.” I nearly choked. *Jesus, Stacy.* It took two supervisors to assure my dad that I would survive the summer. Even then, he left me with a list of *don’ts*, *don’t even think about its*, and enough kisses to make me want to crawl into my grave.

The heat wave continues, and so do we—stolen afternoons, midnight swims, bodies tangled under the stars. Endless summer, endless us.

"The smart watch is going to break before the agreement period is even up." "Theo may think he got a new smart watch, but he just got himself a smart pager instead. Poor little thing." … Time passed after that, and soon, it was Theo's summer break. I was just discussing the company's development plans with Austin for the next five years when I suddenly caught sight of the comments once again becoming active. "Damn! I've been paying so much attention to the villains' daily life that I forget we're almost at a crucial point in the main plot!"

I looked up, and under the shade of the trees, he stood quietly—tall and composed—but his face was hidden in shadow. It was summer, and the cicadas buzzed noisily in the background. It suddenly brought me back to the end of the video I had seen in the theater. He had been sitting there, hands clenched tightly together, saying, “Sadie, I want you to be happy.” Even now, I couldn’t forget those words. So, I answered him, “Because someone wants me to be happy.”

Anna and I stood only inches from the edge of the rooftop. From where John stood, it must have looked like I was holding a knife to her throat. Anna suddenly leaned closer and let out a malicious chuckle. “Relax, I’ve got one more gift for you.” As soon as she said that, a swarm of reporters flooded the area below. They raised their cameras and microphones, shouting questions. “Ms. Summer, before you married Mr. Shaw, did you hide the fact that you had been assaulted?” “Ms. Summer, you’ve had no children for all these years. Is that because the assault left you with lasting complications?”

“She’s on your side, or at least claims to be… Aren't you… friends of some sort?" She chuckled and shook her head. "You sweet summer child." My face heated. "What does that mean?" "It's a saying about children and seasons." "Is this… from across the border?" She nodded. "A child born in a season only remembers the season after. Summer children only see the outcomes: the harvest of fall. They don't see the blistering days of tilling the land, the winter, etc. You are a summer child: optimistic, full of hope. It's adorable and attractive on you, and… surprising."