The summer I turned sixteen was the summer we spent every day together.

It was the summer I heard “Thunder Road” a hundred times a day against my will.

We ate so many green grapes—so, so many. By the time midday rolled around we’d finish a bunch and have to run down the street to Elvin’s to buy more. In all the years since, I can’t even look at a grape without feeling sick.

I remember the day before everything changed and I lost her for good.

We were on our backs in Andy’s backyard, fighting off the after-grape nausea and staring at the clouds freckling the sky. I could feel my skin tingling with the early signs of a sunburn, but Andy never had any. Her dark skin always glowed after the hours we’d spend in the sun, while mine always got splotchy and red.

“Leah Paisley’s single again,” Andy remarked, twirling the grass between her fingers.

“Nicky broke up with her?” I asked, curious but indifferent.

“Nicky dramatically confessed his love for Leah’s mom in front of their whole family.”

I turned my head to face her. She met my eyes. “For real?”

“Yeah,” Andy replied. She laughed heartily for a second before wincing, clutching her stomach. “Apparently it was a whole spectacle.”

“That’s so messed up.”

“I guess the heart wants what the heart wants,” she said. “And Nicky’s heart wanted Leah’s mom. Poor guy. I mean, how do you even recover from that kind of rejection?”

The worst thing about Andy was that she could turn a complete one-eighty on you in a second. Even with people she barely knew, like Nicky Reed. One moment she could be laughing at you, but she could easily be crying with you the next.

“Poor Leah,” I said back, knowing Andy had already checked out of the conversation.

She hummed, mostly to herself. 

“What do you think she said to him?” I asked, trying to keep her voice in the air. “Mrs. Paisley. Do you think she flipped out on him? Or do you think she was nice about the whole thing?”

Andy threw her arm over her face as the sun peeked out from behind a cloud. I squinted against the brighter light, but could still see her contemplating. She gnawed on her lip violently and sighed.

“I dunno,” she answered. “When I went to Leah’s birthday party in second grade Mrs. P gave me attitude for asking if I could have a corner slice of cake.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“I wonder why Nicky’s in love with her,” I said. “If she’s so mean.”

“Who knows,” she said, smirking. Then she laughed, hard, despite the heavy grapes sitting in her stomach. “She probably tore him to pieces. I would’ve paid money to see that!”

Andy was quiet after that.

We never spoke again. 

I remember her that way, though: covered in sun, laughing, another person’s misfortune on her mouth.