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THIS JUNE: AUGUST WRAP-UP

hello!! this is my first update with the new story. if you're unfamiliar with my book project This June, it is a rewrite and fourth draft of a story I've posted about semi-frequently for the last 3 years called Nothing in Particular and Everything. recently, i aged up the characters and reworked the story with some more mature themes. the characters are in college, and so they face the challenges of growing up, being in relationships, setting boundaries, jealousy, and mental health.

this is the story of ray and judith and the summer that almost tore their friends apart. an arsonist put ray's life and mental health in jeopardy - judith thinks she can find them. with an old, dusty camera and a clear june sky, the girls set out to explore a destroyed landmark in their seaside town. summer in point blink never seemed more boring.

you can read more about the story and meet the characters here!

monthly updates

draft four word count: 15,093

on august first, i decided i still wanted to write this book! however, i'd been stuck for so long writing about high school kids that.. i didn't relate to them anymore. i'm in my second year of college and i needed somewhere to inject my experiences. i needed someone to relate to a little bit more than seventeen year old ray. so, i kept the exact same plot and characters but wrote about them as if a lot of time had passed! i even aged up their relationships and wrote them the way i always imagined they would pan out! luckily, I was able to keep chapter one pretty much exactly the same. even though the characters are now college students, i was still able to use the flashback from when they were seniors in high school. (you'll see that I inserted it in this update)

i finished writing chapters one and two!

i've known these characters for a long time, so i didn't think that they would be difficult to write (i was wrong!!) they are very hard to write. judith especially has been really hard to write because her experiences with her family are so like my own. i was in a hurry to finish writing the first draft of chapter one, so i will definitely have to edit the way i painted her character. anyway, judith has always been the hardest for me to portray, because her story just gets more and more complex with every draft.

lonan has a crazy new side quest!!! i love writing with lonan. he is my good time boy. while ray is struggling at home with depression, he is (sort of) living it up in the city with his boyfriend (situationship) and struggling to make art without feeling guilty about it. he's ok though.

i deleted two old characters and replaced them with madison and oliver. these two play pretty much the exact same role except their friendship with ray is a lot more challenging, while at the same supportive! i think this will be a great opportunity to write a more interesting resolution at the end of the book when it comes to tying up character relationships. they have a very positive force in the book :)

the romance!!!! this book is really sapphic, anyone could guess. i can't say much about it yet but i am so excited about the end of this book just. agh. mental health! friends! hugs! <3

overall, the book is probably going to be around the same length with longer chapters that function more like short stories.

september goals

complete chapter 3

start editing chapter 2

work on character exploration (particularly with judith, utilize creative writing class/poetry)

i've been waaay more confident in my writing capabilities, but not so much the plot. i often struggle to believe that my book is actually interesting, so I hope to improve my confidence.

Excerpts

I was a firm believer that the best art is created when the artist is lonely, angry, or depressed. The summer my best friend caught his train out of Point Blink, I was surprised to find that I became none of these things. In the weeks before he left for college, we buried a time capsule in his backyard and painted his bedroom walls a calm cerulean. We snuck out of our houses at nighttime to swim in the ocean and built a dark room. My lips always tasted of sunscreen. All my most colorful memories in Point Blink were unplanned in the beginning. Pine trees crested Point Blink like a wreath, nestled into the bluffs that lifted town up to the sun. Tide pools congested with cigarettes spotted the beach, made pink in the sunlight. Fiddler and horseshoe crabs scuttled across the warm sand. The air was hot with gossip loud as cicada screams. Brackish waves spat salt and sailboats into the air. A man called out, “Stay cool!” over the toll of a bell. Peanut oil dripped from hot dog buns. Somewhere, Fleetwood Mac played on a radio. Fleeting moments of a closing summer – and the tide receded. In the last week of August, I did everything possible to avoid post-vacation blues. I rode my bike along Sugarfell’s gravel roads with no destination, wore my darkest pair of sunglasses to people-watch, and fed salami to the minnows the darted around the cusps of tide pools. Usually, I sat still for so long that my elbows turned a deep shade of red and the blood in my toes buzzed. But I was tired of John Mulaney and headaches. Vacationers checked in and out. The convincing pull of waves at the sand and the familiar scrape of boats against the docks did not calm me down as they once had. Earlier that June, I graduated from high school. This was both thrilling and terrifying. In some ways, I had everything I wanted. In others, I was saying goodbye to everything I’d worked so hard for. I was one of the top photography students in my year. I’d finally learned how to drive. I got decent grades. I’d even had my first kiss. I should have been happy; but I wasn’t even proud. At least – it didn’t feel how it was supposed to feel. No matter what I did, no matter how many parties I went to or late nights I pulled, none of it prepared me for the day my best friend left Point Blink. My vision waxed and waned as he rambled about his classes, apartment, and new eccentric roommate. Something like jealousy – but not so ugly as that – had made a place for itself in the hollowest part of my chest.

chapter one, "PAST TENSE"

Slowly, I folded the jacket and set it between us. “Let’s run away.” As if I’d suggested we throw ourselves from a dry cliff, Lonan smiled a bemused smile. Freckles frowned across the bridge of his sharp nose. “Are you asking me to kidnap you?” “You’ll be gentle, you won’t murder me.” “What’ll we do for food?” I turned my hands out, grubby from sand and dirt. “I am an excellent thief.” “At the innocence of French fries.” He wasn’t convinced. “I hope you’re aware what a horrible plan this is – you've schemed it in the last twenty-five seconds.” “I am not scheming anything.” I eyed him through my knotty pumpkin locks, on the fritz in August heat. “We can change our names. I’ll sleep on the floor. Find a job. Even cook and clean.” Lonan covered his mouth and laughed softly. “This is not as convincing an argument as you think it sounds.” “Oh, come on! You need someone to open jars of peanut butter for you.” “Ray,” Lonan cautioned. He turned his full body towards me. Quite unfortunately, in that moment, reality became much clearer, and I realized how senseless I was being. “This is a daydream. You can’t move away – you have to stay here. You can’t put your entire life on hold for one person.” For a second, I opened and closed my mouth like a fish. “You sound like my dad,” I finally groaned, rubbing at my temples. Lonan winced. “We can’t live like degenerates.” Sometimes, in a very fond sort of way, Lonan really annoyed me. He said exactly what was on his mind when it mattered most. In our chaotic friend group, he was oftentimes the voice of reason. Oftentimes, this was a great thing. The previous summer, he had talked me down from piercing my nose. I was quite a baby when it came to literally any amount of pain, and he knew this well. “And,” he said, singing with boyish enthusiasm, “you’re going to work hard so you can become an even better photographer than me.” “No one is better than you.” “That’s absurd.” But he was smiling. “No matter what you think of me, you have to stay here. You have talent – don’t waste it on me.” His eyes focused on something distant. I followed his gaze, but found nothing. “Anyways, as soon as you leave, you’ll miss Point Blink and want to come back.” I didn’t miss a beat. “Maybe I like Point Blink more when you’re home.” Lonan rubbed his neck, his face all daylily. I tried to focus on the melodic thrill of the waves, but doubt lapped up the walls of my head in little tsunamis. Sometimes, I think that, if I didn’t put so much effort into my friendships, I might not be so angry all the time.

chapter one, "PAST TENSE"

“You taught me to love everything I love, and I love it all because of you.” I nudged his knee with mine. “You’re the reason photography means so much to me. Don’t you know that?” Lonan didn’t say anything in response to any of this, just pressed his lips together and bobbed his head. Static waves pervaded the silence that stretched between us. Neither of us were particularly skilled with eye contact. Photography was our thing. I’d never found the same relief in it without him. I’d been obsessed with it when I met him in our freshman year of high school. There were always drawings on his hands that he’d done in purple pen. He carried around a notebook filled with the most amazing drawings I’d ever seen. Stories he was writing. Projects he was working on. By the end of the day, the sides of his hands were gray with graphite. I wanted to be just like him; I didn’t want to find out what kind of person I would become when he was gone. “You never told me any of that,” he mumbled. His voice sounded like he had been standing in the rain for hours. The familiar discomfort that came along when people were aware of how much I depended on them made me bite my upper lip. I might as well have just given Lonan a day-pass to my existential crises and solopsitisms. “Well people don’t normally get this sentimental in real life,” I laughed. “Maybe I’ll change my mind,” he said. It was like he hadn’t even heard me. “This might not work. I mean, there aren’t many career options in fine arts, so…” “You shouldn’t doubt yourself so much,” I interrupted. “It’s a really competitive field—" “For fuck’s sake, Lonan,” I said. “Stop.” He blinked at me, and we just stared at each other. I exhaled and let my body slump into his. “Sorry,” I said. “You have to do this. You’ve worked way too hard to give up now or change your mind because you’re scared. You shouldn’t be scared because you’re an excellent person. We might not be on the exact same paths, but we can’t let that stop us.” This was the right thing to do. “You have good ideas,” I said. “Great ones. Besides, you have lots of exploring to do. Classes to take. New foods to try.” I deepened my voice. “Love to be found.” Flustered, Lonan squirmed away from me. “Maybe in a houseplant.” “Well,” I laughed, “love is all the same, isn’t it?” “Yeah…” We were quiet. “Maybe there’s another way,” Lonan’s quavering voice searched. “Maybe I’ll change my mind.” Dark sleep circled his eyes. With alarm, I realized that his eyes glistened with tears. To hide this, he drew his legs to his chest. I caught his shoulder, rested my chin on his head, and stared worriedly into the horizon, stormy blue like his eyes. His hair smelled like the little confections Katherine sold at Mothouse. Regret pummeled my chest as I whispered, “You won’t.” I knew Lonan would never give up, because he was a rebel and I was quiet. He was my focal point. Point Blink was a gauge built on magenta sea glass – and I had a third eye, primal in the growing. Lonan trembled. I buried my chin in his hair. He sat up and rubbed his eyes with his wrists. They shone green whenever his emotions were on high, a trait he’d inherited from his mom, who had heterochromia. “I’m sorry, Ray,” he said, tears plipping from his nose. I pulled him back in and hugged him tighter, until I felt his warm breath snuffling into my shirt. “For what?” I asked, but he either didn’t hear me, or had nothing left to say.

chapter one, "PAST TENSE"

My body felt like it was on fire but in a good way, sort of like how I imagined it might feel to sky dive or swim with sharks. Sunlight flushed my bare shoulders and turned my cheeks pink as nectarines. The sun sat enthroned in the sky, following me as I sped past Butternut Brooke on my bike, sand lifting from the sticky sidewalk. Clouds spilled across the sky the same way sugar spills across a table, and wind swept long, pumpkin-blonde roots over my shoulders. Turtles slipped under the glassy surface. Chirruping frogs soon faded to the chiming arrival of boats at the docks and the chaos of tourists. I was so close to seeing my best friends again that I barely noticed the girl with the blue hat crossing the road. I swerved past her as though she were a waterfowl, my camera swinging from my neck. She shouted something at me, but I was going too fast to hear it. This June was the first time my friends would all be together since graduating high school. An entire year had passed since we split and decided to go to three different colleges. I had spent the entire year completely alone, with only a few houseplants on our windowsill that Dad and I brought back to life as company. Lonan and Oliver had not even visited for Christmas. Summer had finally arrived. For the first time in eight months, I wasn’t thinking about writing essays. There was nothing to do; there was everything to do. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this excited about anything.

chapter two, "THIS JUNE"

For all the chill that frightened most people away, I adored autumn like a friend come to visit. Death hung in the air – just above our heads, barely tangible. Wine-red leaves quivered like tattered coats on maples. Admired in caramel apples and haystacks. Pumpkin patches and haunted mazes. It was the only time of year I found I could be truly comfortable, knowing that, whatever came after, I had control of all that had already happened. It was June - strong waves and wild parties. I had to be ready for anything.

chapter two, "THIS JUNE"

[Lonan] used to recoil at the thought of living with little more than a houseplant. When he met Vick, though, he returned to Point Blink smiling. Suddenly, he was filled with stories from the city as if he’d lived there for years. Before he became a tattoo artist, Vick was halfway through a psychology degree. It was unclear exactly how the two of them had met, but I suspected it had something to do with the fact that Vick needed money from the extra room he was renting to Lonan. He was taking a gap year. His new hobby was flirting with Lonan. The boys shared a two-bedroom apartment with a doggish tabby particularly fond of cupboards. Vick filled the kitchen – wide enough for one person to make a toaster waffle – with Lonan’s plants. He did their laundry and rented movies. He taught Lonan to throw spaghetti on the wall. He had a credit score and a flare for interior design, which were two things Lonan couldn’t stand talking about. He shopped at thrift stores like he shopped for groceries: the apartment was all ornate rugs and vintage mirrors, out-of-print books and even a tuned piano neither of them knew how to play. The walls were all amber and teal. When Vick was bored, he invited people over. He hadn’t drunk proper milk since the seventh grade, which was rubbing off on Lonan. Each night, they ate strawberry oat milk ice cream while Vick helped Lonan study for exams. Vick used words like “litigious” and “jargon”. His friends liked Lonan because it gave him something to take care of. I thought Vick was pretentious as shit, but I was trying not to judge people based on the things they owned anymore. Also, Lonan needed someone who would take him to aquariums and show him how to use the subway. Not long after Lonan moved in, the second bedroom became an art studio, and the cat slept between the boys each night. Sometimes, I wondered why Lonan would ever come home, to Point Blink. After all, he had a boyfriend and a regular coffee order. He was probably busy denying drugs at parties. My best friend felt so out of reach sometimes. Like I was a whale, floating leagues above my pod.

chapter two, "THIS JUNE"

Point Blink wasn’t built for so much love at once, but it received it anyway – shop doors stayed open, ice cream cones ran low, sunscreen was lathered on thick, the water was crowded, and taut voices in a hurry filled the humid air. People ran around the tall mermaid fountain in their bathing suits. Boat horns blared their call over the clamor of car traffic. The shops that made up the center of town breathed with life, expanding wider and wider as more tourists crowded the doorways. A lot of people I knew who lived in Point Blink – like Dad – were annoyed by the tourists we got every summer, but they didn’t bother me in the slightest. Really, they just reminded me of how loved my town was. How I was a part of something. Every summer felt the same – just as exciting and opportunistic as the last. Fluttery excitement started in my feet and spread to every inch of my body. Last summer, we’d celebrated my nineteenth birthday in the park. This year, I’d be twenty years old. Already, I tasted melting buttercream frosting and tart lemonade on the back of my tongue. I knew all good things ended, but it was June – I could stay perfect for a little while.

chapter two, "THIS JUNE"

Mothouse was all passion: carefully crafted wood and warm colors. Katherine and her sister – Lonan’s mom – opened the coffeehouse with their father when they were just teenagers. Summer came and went with its thunderstorms and left behind a quiet morning rush, smiles passed between hands made warm by cappuccinos and two old friends sharing a table all afternoon. It was the sort of place you wanted to spend hours in, chatting with friends or writing a book. Twinkling white lights adorned the pastry case. Behind the glass were fresh scones laced with sugar, chocolate chip cookies that gooed when bitten, crumbly, golden blueberry muffins, sliced key lime pie, cupcakes that were mostly buttercream frosting, tarts stuffed with berries, plump cheesecakes, and chunky walnut brownies. Lonan’s mural spanned the entire wall behind the pastry case. The behemoth had cost him all his senior year. I helped him every weekend – not that I was anywhere near as good as he was with paint. When he added his mark to his family’s business, he made sure it was something that would follow him: a study of the sea outside of Mothouse, fond silhouettes of people gathered by the foamy waves. The waves were made from indigo and lilac; the sand was blue. Rather than a sunset, the entire sky was overcast yellow, the way it always was after a long and heavy thunderstorm. Walking past the painting, I felt an all too familiar soft pang of longing. It was a permanent look into the way Lonan saw Point Blink, and of what he’d left behind.

chapter two, "THIS JUNE"

I missed Lonan so much that it hurt. When he returned to Point Blink, everything would go back to the same as it had been, when the four of us did everything together. I was so busy imagining this that I missed it when Oliver walked through the door. Instead, a loud laugh so unlike Madison jolted me upright. By the time my eyes found them, Oliver was already hugging her so tightly that I knew nothing could hurt her for the rest of the summer. He was way taller than she was, so her face was pressed snug against his chest. They hit each other with such a force that they seemed not to breathe for several moments. And they staggered that way as I watched, giddiness rampant as a rabbit kicking around in my own chest. Oliver looked different, but in a good way. Madison’s hair was as long as her elbows, but he had cut his black hair shorter. Instead of the unruly mess it had been throughout high school, his black hair lay straight, closely cropped to his head. He was wearing an oversized hoodie and a larger pair of clear glasses. If it were even possible, everything about him was louder, and more contained at the same time. Madison and Lonan were friends long before the rest of our friend group had come together. When they were just seven, Kath attended a yoga class with Madison’s mother, and they often met at Mothouse for coffee afterwards. Because daycare was expensive, Lonan and Madison became quick friends – which was always the way childhood friendships began, out of chance and unreasonable fondness. When high school started, I met Lonan through photography class. Eventually, I was invited to birthday parties and nights at the movie theater. As the three of us started to hang out more and more, it became apparent that we were inseparable. Our own fortress of impenetrable friendship. When Oliver came along later that year, Madison had turned her nose up at him as though he were a plate of escargot. He played keys in the band; Madison played drums. He was passionate and excited in a way that made you always want to be around him. Though, Madison saw this as a challenge. But as Lonan and I formed our own bond over photography, so did Madison with Oliver – over seemingly nothing at all. They just talked. A lot, about everything. Sometimes, until two in the morning. They were people who went together simply because they got along, and they made each other’s lives far easier than if they had been apart. They fit together more like broken pieces than a puzzle. Lonan and I knew far before they did that they’d end up together. I remember one particular day when we’d all gone out to eat gelato at the shop down the street from the post office. Lonan and I sat on one side of the bench; Madison and Oliver sat on the other. As he spooned creamy vanilla into his mouth, Lonan snuck knowing smiles to me. One month later, Madison and Oliver were a thing, and they had been ever since.

chapter two, "THIS JUNE"

I pedaled through the sand until the long-familiar whisper of the waves splashed over my tires. The shoreline was cool where sea spit sprayed in the air, turning my cheeks red and ruddy. People used to strip naked and slink into the water here, swim out to the far shore sparse with naked trees and blanketed in purple fog. In elementary school, we sailed there in a rowboat to turn over rocks for salamanders. Now the grass is covered with red Solo cups, the trees strung with underwear, the sand clogged with wigs of seaweed. Dad used to take me on adventures here; and I remember every single one of them. We packed pepperoni and salami in plastic, chilled cans of Pepsi inside a red cooler, and crammed blankets into the backseat of the car with me. He patted my childish, bruised knees, told me I looked like a pearl tucked away in there. The sea, violent and knowing as it romped into the cliff face, opened its great jaws wide as he stomped through the oil-like water, holding me above his waist. I kicked my legs, baby fat jiggling inside his calloused hands, murmuring songs in my little voice. I danced over the murky seaweed beds, pretended I was the Sugarplum Queen or a swan glistening with cool sweat. I created monsters to dive deep and lurk beneath me. I made myself a princess among them, untouchable. Sunlight marbled across the black sea and deepened my cheeks to rose. Unafraid of what lurked beyond verdant patches of lily flowers, I squished cold sand between my toes, rolled onto my back, floated until I was invisible from the shore, sunlight settling deep in my bones. This part of the beach was empty and quiet, far too gunky for anyone to swim; and this was exactly why I loved it. I was alone again. But it didn’t feel alone. This was the spot where Lonan and I met. It had been raining – the end of February always brought rain like the beach was stuck inside of a snow globe, blowing up mist that mussed my hair and tickled my arms. Clouds thick as sheets wrapped Point Blink in an indigo blanket. Overnight, the tides had surged, digging up scallops and sea glass. The beach was totally silent, except for a single boat bell tolling its loneliness. As I was walking on the beach with a plastic bucket, I noticed a pair of footprints appear beside mine, along with those of a dog. I combed my wet hair back with my fingers and narrowed my eyes. At the end of the beach where the sand gave way to Sugarfell flickered a figure, soft at the edges like he was hardly there at all. A boy watched his dog run in circles around him. He tipped his head back in laughter each time the dog barked. Over the waves, I couldn’t hear anything he said, but I immediately knew this was Lonan because of the camera hung over his chest and the flattened curls underneath his hood. We both wore rain jackets. Mine was yellow and his was blue. We were fourteen.

chapter two, "THIS JUNE"

“You know, I see you working all the time at school, and your stuff is really cool,” I said. Lonan looked up at me, rolling his shoulders a bit. If this was the only time I’d ever get to tell him, it had to be now. “Like,” I continued, “it seems like you put so much time into stuff, and I think that’s really special. I wish… I wish I could do that. Everything you do is really cool, and it’s just really fun to watch you do it. Sometimes I just wonder about what you keep in your sketchbooks and if you’re ever gonna show anyone what you’re working on, because, in my opinion, that sort of stuff deserves to be loved. You’re sort of the coolest person in our photography class, honestly.” Lonan was looking at me a bit like I’d just told him I planned on robbing the bank. “Sorry,” I added. “Is that weird to say?” He cleared his throat. “I don’t think so – I think it’s really sweet.” My face was red from the rain flurrying across the water, but I knew it was this too – finally talking to someone I looked up to so much. I shuffled my feet in the sand. “I’d love to know what you’re working on. If you wanted to show me.” Lonan took a deep breath. “I’ve never really shown anyone my art before.” “You should.”

chapter two, "THIS JUNE"

It scared me to think that my friends and I might someday drift apart. Maybe it had already begun to happen. If I was being honest, I put a lot more thought into this than I did actually being excited that my friends were all going to be in home again. I knew that, when Lonan’s train arrived, we’d spend loads of time together. My life was perfect – I had nothing to worry about. I just needed to get out of my head. Past a crumbling stone wall ran a thin river, ringed with little brown mushrooms. A mossy bridge curved like a heart over the mottled water. I paused there and ran my fingertips over the velvety wood, poking every jagged splinter. Leaning forward, I put my chin on my hands so I could see my reflection on the green surface. A crayfish scuttled along the mirky bottom, and I was reminded of the time Oliver had caught one with his bare hands. Lonan had almost fallen in the water that day, and Madison caught him by the back of his shirt. All of the pictures I’d taken that day were still hanging beside my bookshelf in my bedroom. Still tracing the outline of the crayfish with narrowed eyes, I lifted my camera from my chest and took a photo. I hadn’t eaten much yet, so my fingers were shaking. So badly I wished my friends were with me. I crossed the bridge. The dark wood ahead shed a glow of purple. Sometimes I wondered what my life might be like if my friends had never left. Sometimes it felt like I only liked myself when we were at a party or sharing a secret. Sometimes it seemed like when Madison and Oliver started dating, they turned into completely different people. Sometimes I thought Lonan was sad when we were together. Sometimes, I thought I should talk to him about that. I didn’t tell anyone that, sometimes, I wasn’t sure if I liked college at all. I didn’t tell anyone that I’d had trouble sleeping for the past year. I didn’t tell them that last week I’d lost my appetite almost completely. I couldn’t explain why my chest felt so full of water. I wanted to tell them. There was nobody else I would have rather talked to. But everyone – my friends, Dad, Kath – felt so far away. There is a cliff at the edge of Point Blink where kids twist into the air and throw dust to the vortexing waves; youth dash past eroded caves filled with bird nests that fly by like slots in a mausoleum. A lighthouse with a jammed bell leers over the expanse of heat lightning reflections. Metal gargles against stone in storm weather, warning us all of childish dares. I was a lighthouse: lived in by sailors, travelers, and strangers; pale stone tall and strong against a maelstrom of salt and rock. Moon shells speckled my base, crushed or buried. Clouds passed over the moon, and I opened my eye to cast sickly yellow light over the waves as they smoothed the footprints of my friends, and of Dad, and of me. Point Blink has stood for decades, but I will stand alone for many more, flickering against all the stars, waiting for those I love to return to harbor.

chapter two, "THIS JUNE"

Through the trees and over the static of the waves, something groaned. Like the low whine of a fox or the broken call of a sea bird. But I knew it wasn’t either of those things. It occurred to me then that just because I felt alone, didn’t mean I was alone. The air around me thickened with humidity, and something like fear. I leaned forward slightly. Only my chest rose and fell with purposeful breaths. The sound called out again. Only this time, it was louder. It sounded like something might have been moving around out there. Trying to escape. Claw. Cloy. Gooseflesh rose on my legs. I stiffened trying to stop it. If Lonan were with me, we would have explored. I would have convinced him to wander around with me for hours, and he would have. We would have gotten into trouble for getting home so late, but it would have been worth it. We’d bring home some buried, broken bottle or colorful piece of sea glass and we’d remember the day forever. Whereas Lonan calculated every decision carefully, I never wanted to sit still. I always wanted to do more. Without him, I felt as though I’d lost that part of myself. I wanted it back. In that moment, I decided I had spent enough of the last year waiting for everything to be perfect. This time in Sugarfell belonged to me. Gently, I reached into the barbed brush and pulled apart the branches, enough so I could see the glossy blue of the waves. A field fell over the bluffs like a waterfall and rolled into the ocean. The grass was tall and thick with colorful weeds. All of it was dead, like this mysterious part of the woods hadn’t felt a human’s touch in years. Bugs rose from the yellowed ground, flitting over flowers. The air here was dry yet clear, forcing me to take a deep breath, to smell the salt blowing in from the water. This view of the ocean was without sailboats or jet-skis. I couldn’t hear any tourists. Interrupting the canvas of the sky stood a tower, silhouetted in gold by the sun. The crows I’d seen in the forest were here too, hopping over the rusty ladder at my feet. I tipped my head back. The tower was taller even than most of the trees in Sugarfell. It seemed to sway in its height. It blocked out the sun and made me shiver in its shadow. Tendrils of ivy hung from the crisscross frame. At the top, there was a structure with a door. Planks from the stairs were missing in places, hanging in the overgrown vines. Dust trickled in the sunlight between their gaps. This must have been where the noise was coming from. Like the tower had been calling out to me. A pit opened in my stomach. I’d grown up in Point Blink, yet it was the first time I’d ever seen a tower like this one. I’d looked out of all the tourist binoculars from the tallest bluffs and I’d never seen this tower. The windows on the structure were like eyes, widening in surprise. How far from town had I wandered?

chapter two, "THIS JUNE"

“I really like it here,” Judith said. “You’re lucky to have grown up in a place as perfect as this.” “It’s not always summer,” I told her. “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe I’d feel differently if I had someone to talk to." In the moment I looked up from my hands to realize that she was talking about me, there was a horrible groan from underneath us, entirely unhuman – the sound a dying machine makes when it is unable to hold itself up any longer. The stairway shrugged and softened. I held on tight to the railing, peeling wood splintering my skin as I slid down, down, down.

Slowly, then all at once, I became aware of a tinny smell. The unmistakable smell of burning metal. I didn’t have time to check and see if Judith was still behind me before she crashed into me. Lonan came to me all at once: we were dissolved into black. I tried running to the opposite side of the fire tower, but then there was no ground beneath me. We must not have been that far up, because it didn’t take long for the rest of the tower to collapse beneath us. There was something soft underneath me – my bag or Judith's arm. I could not see the sky – then light exploded from the veil we were trapped in. Judith's hand found mine. She was shouting. I couldn’t tell what she was saying. I dragged myself through the grass, now pasty with smoke, infiltrating my throat, my eyes, my head – everything. It softened the world, made it easier to forget, but no easier to breathe. I wasn’t sure for how long we struggled that way in the growing cloud of smoke. Judith screamed – a sound I never should have heard – and it brought hot tears to my eyes. Distantly, someone else screamed. It might have been me, but I wasn’t sure. Sirens wailed somewhere. We never heard many of them in Point Blink. I smelled of salt and smoke. What a fool I’d been to believe it possible I could carry on without my best friends; and what a fool Judith had been to think she could replace them.

i shared so so many excerpts! i won't always be able to do so because of spoilers and such. i also didn't share much of the book which includes judith since i wasn't happy with her character portrayal.. so sorry about that haha. i hope to show more of her in next month's update!!

thank you so much for reading! i'd like to keep this sort of format for all my updates. once per month is likely attainable during my semester!

now

i am v tired and im going to bed. have to write an APA paper tomorrow -_-

until october,

amber 💚

#this june

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