Last Summer

Everett had to leave at some point.

He always did.

Except this time, I had an extra few days—this time, we'd be driving up to Sydney together. He was going to help me move in with River.

Maybe I could convince him to stay too.

Except, I knew NYU was waiting for him back in America. He never spoke about it much, but I'd seen enough movies to assume it was a pretty famous university. He'd be mad to leave it behind for some girl.

I hugged my knees closer to my chest, watching the waves wash over the shore—wash over Everett's body, a dot on the horizon.

He'd gotten better at surfing with all the time he was spending at Shellside Bay. Pride swelled in my chest every time he managed to catch a wave, even more when he suggested surfing himself.

It was like I'd given him a part of me, and he'd accepted it happily. He'd taken that piece of my soul and connected it to his own. Surfing had become our thing.

He waved at me from the distance, and I grinned, waving back.

Beside me, someone fell to sit on the sand, and I turned to find River, still scuffing out a cigarette in an empty can of soda.

"Don't tell me you're sooking about leaving for Sydney in two weeks."

I shrugged. "I always thought it was what I wanted, but now that my room is half packed and the others are already buying new work uniforms... I don't know. It feels..."

"Wrong."

"Different," I replied. I would never admit it, but wrong was exactly what had popped into my mind at first. "It feels different."

"It feels like we're growing up," River replied.

I stared straight ahead. Of course, he was right. It didn't mean I had to like it. Everett was standing on his board. A wave hit and seconds later he was falling back into the ocean. The sun had begun to fade already, turning the ocean darker. Everett would have to come back to shore soon.

The day would have to end.

"Shellside Bay isn't the reason you're upset though, is it?"

I turned at River's voice, frowning. He looked at me for a moment before sighing, looking back at the water. Everett was beginning to swim back to shore, but I knew it wasn't him that River was looking at.

Connor's head bobbed beside his surfboard, just metres away from Everett.

"I know," River said. "It won't be the same again."

I could only sigh in response.

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When I woke up deep in the afternoon, he was gone, leaving an Everett sized dent in my mattress and a sweater that smelt of his cologne.

I bolted upright, my eyes searching the room for his familiar smile and his messy morning hair. But he had held true to his promise. He'd vanished in my sleep, taking his bag and my heart with him.

I frowned, stretching in the empty bed before reaching for the sweater he'd left me. It was one I only recognised from blurry video calls; the letters NYU embroidered along the chest. I held it to my face, breathing in his scent, silently praying that it'd stick longer than it usually did.

What an idiot. He'd left me a jumper, but I hadn't given him back his last one. Now he was two sweaters down.

Smiling to myself, I pulled his jumper on and turned to search for my phone. I was sure that I had been drunk last night—my pounding headache was a testament to that—but my phone was there, on my bedside table, plugged in and fully charged. I knew I had Everett to thank for that.

Turning it on, I found a flood of texts from Everett already waiting for me, ranting about his delayed flight, complaining about his seat mate, wishing me good morning. He was probably just a few hours into his twenty-something hour long flight by now.

I typed a quick reply, wishing him a safe flight and asking him to call me as soon as possible before forcing myself out of bed. I found my shorts discarded on the floor and tugged them on. No matter how much my head pounded, or stomach turned, I needed to see the damage we'd done last night.

Pushing the door to the living room open, I found River already awake, a bag of rubbish in his hands.

"Good morning, Princess," he said as I entered the room.

I yawned widely, gazing about the place. It was mostly cleaned—at least, by River's parties' standards. All the furniture had been placed back in their rightful spots. Most of the rubbish was picked up. No stray guests were draped over the couches.

"I already kicked out the strays," River said, reading my mind. "You want some paracetamol?"

"You know me so well."

I followed him to the kitchen where he poured me some water and popped some painkillers into my hand. I swallowed them, watching him carefully.

"Why aren't you as hungover as I am?" I asked.

"I didn't drink much last night."

I scoffed. "You? You didn't drink much last night?"

"Hey, I'm a changed man," he replied with a shrug. "That, or you're just an absolute light weight."

I snorted, draining the rest of my water before standing again. River's eyes fell down to my jumper, then back up again.

"I saw him leave," River replied. "He seemed... okay."

"That's good," I said.

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Are you okay?"

I huffed, pushing off the kitchen counter with a bitter smile. "That's a loaded question, River."

"You know what I mean."

"I'm fine. We're halfway through the semester now. Everett will be back again soon. We'll call. It'll be fine." I rounded the kitchen counter to pat him on the shoulder. "Thanks for putting yourself through that emotional torture to check on me, though."

He rolled his eyes at me, a smile still twitching at his lips. "Never make me do it again."

With my help, the rest of the living room was cleaned within the hour, leaving me with the rest of the day to study.

With the midterms done, I knew exactly where I had to practice now. It was a lot of areas, but at least now I knew in time for the next one. I knew where to begin now.

Everett's first text came in the late afternoon, when I was already deep in my studying. When my phone buzzed, I jumped, fishing through my pockets to check my messages.

Everett: Hey, just landed for my lay over. How's the damage?

I responded immediately.

Isla: Not bad. Hangover's sorted, and River cleaned most of the living room before I woke up.

Isla: How was the flight?

Instead of replying, Everett's face popped up on my screen, requesting a video call. I answered it, finding his face grinning up at me.

"Good morning, gorgeous," he said.

I laughed, rolling my eyes. "It's actually past five now."

"Well, it's morning for me. I slept through that whole flight. Woke up for the food though."

"Was it worth it?"

He scrunched his nose. "Absolutely not. Fish stew? Whose idea was that?"

I snorted. "I thought you liked fish."

"Oh, I don't know what that was, but it was definitely not fish. Misleading name, really." He grinned at my laughter and his eyes softened. "Nice sweater."

"Thanks, my boyfriend left it for me."

"You have another boyfriend?"

I rolled my eyes, smiling. "Everett."

"Well, he has pretty good taste."

"He goes to NYU."

"Must be smart too."

"Sometimes. He's transferring to Australia soon, though. We're going to be... what's the opposite of long distance?"

"It doesn't matter. As long as I can wake up to you every morning, you can call it whatever you want."

I smiled back, shifting how I was sitting to move my laptop further away, instead making my videocall full screen to cover my study notes. Everett seemed to notice because he asked, "Are you studying?"

I nodded. "I got the feedback for my midterms now so I figured I should use it."

"Oh, well, don't let me stop you," he started,

"But I want to talk to you," I said quickly.

"I wasn't going to hang up." He laughed and shifted slightly, leaning closer to the camera to rest his jaw on his hand. "Teach me."

I scoffed. "What?"

"Teach me. Whatever you're studying. We can study together."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. I have a four-hour layover, Isla. I'm willing to do anything at this point."

"But—I barely know what I'm studying. How am I supposed to teach it to you?"

"Just try it," he said, "trust me."

I frowned, unsure, but pulled my laptop back onto my lap anyway.

"Alright," I said, scrolling to where I'd left off. "So, there are a few different types of glial cells."

"Glial cells?"

"Yeah. They're, like, supporting cells."

"What do they do?"

"They support neurons. You know, they transport waste out and nutrients in. Stuff like that."

"Right. So, they're only in the brain then?"

"Well, sort of. They're in our nervous system."

"What were the different types?"

"In the central nervous system, there are astrocytes, oligodendrocytes and microglial cells. Astrocytes are called that because they look like stars."

I blinked, realising Everett was grinning widely at me. My face warmed.

"What?" I asked.

"Nothing," he said. "You just said you barely know what you're studying but you answered all of my questions."

I frowned. He was right. I did. I cleared my throat.

"Well, I've got my laptop right here and—I mean, how do you even know I got them right?"

"I know," he said. He smiled and my chest grew warm. It was probably a good thing he was off in some faraway country. My eyes moved back to my laptop screen. "So, what's the next one?"

"Right. The myelin sheath."

By the time Everett's layover was done, I'd finished revising and fixing half of my notes with him as an eager listener.

We'd eaten dinner together—or whatever meal Everett was on in his mixed-up schedule. River popped in and said hello, and then Connor did too—from the screen of River's phone.

Somehow, our apartment had turned into a hostel for long distance relationships. Luckily, River's parents had valued a strong Wi-Fi connection in their home.

And then the sun had gone down again, and Everett was off on the next leg of his flight; this time, until he was actually home, halfway around the world.

But it set the tone for the rest of the week.

And suddenly, my call log was filled with Everett.

It was like that first month we dated—we called in between classes, during meals, while he was at the gym, while I was lying in bed before sleeping. Everett flooded my life.

But most of all, we called while studying. If I wasn't talking to Everett, I was revising my notes and doing assignments—or both. I had always been good at multitasking. And with Everett as a motivator, I was finding studying more appealing than usual.

Even River joined us sometimes, our phones set up beside each other, Connor on one screen and Everett on the other.

It was certainly a sight to see—Everett walking through New York at odd hours of the day, Connor dressed in his fluorescent vest on some worksite; and River and I's books laid out in front of them. An odd mixture that somehow worked.

With the increase of improvised study dates, River seemed to stop throwing parties as often as he used to. Instead of groaning coming through the walls of his room, now I could hear laughter, stolen in the quiet hours of the night. Sometimes I wondered whatever happened to Alistair. Most of the time, I didn't care. I liked seeing Connor more often, with Austin sometimes waving in the background, but most of all, I liked seeing River happy.

It wasn't until two weeks after Everett left that I had another quiz due. I'd called him as soon as I hit submit, the tab minimised and my score was hidden from me until he answered.

"Just click on it, Isla," he said through the line. I could see his camera shaking slightly as he walked through dark streets this time.

Dark for a different reason. For me, it was just after sunset. For him, he had just woken up and was getting an early start before his first class.

"Get it over and done with. Like ripping off a Band-Aid. You know?"

"I'm scared," I said. "It's a quiz, but it was worth like 30% of my grade."

"You have nothing to be scared of. You worked hard."

"That's exactly why I'm scared! I studied so hard for this. If I fail again, after all that work—it's like, what do I even do now?"

I sighed dropping my head into my hands. With all the studying I'd been doing, and with Everett occupying most of my time, I had barely given myself time to stress over this quiz. It was all hitting me at once—the what-ifs. The possibility of failure.

"Isla." His voice was stern, forcing me to look up and catch his eye. "You studied hard, and that's why you should have faith in your score. Whether it's what you hoped for or not, you know that you gave it your all. You can't change the past now."

"But I can ignore it."

He laughed, rolling his eyes. "Or you can ignore it."

I hummed, considering it. "Maybe I can just close the tab and find out after my final exam when marks are released."

"Isla, just open it."

"But what if I did really bad?"

"What if you did really good?"

I huffed. He had a good point.

"Fine," I said. "But if I failed, I'm dropping out. For real."

"If you say so."

"And it'll be on your conscience forever."

"I mean, you're the one who took the quiz."

"Still!" He grinned at me, and I sucked in a deep breath, nodding. "Okay, on three."

"One," Everett started.

"Two," I continued.

"Three."

My results flooded the screen, my eyes immediately landing on the numbers.

My heart fell into my stomach.

A gasp caught in my throat.

Everett said nothing. He only watched me as my hand flew to cover my mouth.

A smile grew beneath my fingers.

"I passed," I whispered.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

Sorry for the late update!! Things are finally starting to look up for Isla! It looks like there's only about 5 chapters left, although I am still writing so let me know your predictions or what you hope to see before it's over <3