Spending every summer with his grandmother in the south of England isn't Ryan's idea of a good time, and when he finds someone his own age to hang out with, he doesn't much care who that is. Alex might not say much, but company is company when there's nobody else to choose from, and Ryan will simply have to make do. It isn't, after all, like he really needs a friend. But Alex is more than just a kid with a thing for smashing up greenhouses, and Ryan finds himself dragged further and further into a dark, uncertain world of alcohol, bruises, a mother's madness, and a father's anger. Worst of all, Alex is dragging Ryan into a world of lust, attraction, and midnight kisses that Ryan is struggling to keep confined to southern summers. This thing with Alex can't go further than summer -- but Alex, and the shadows that surround him, are not so easily forgotten. Ryan can't forget Alex, but the longer he hangs on, the more he discovers ... not just about Alex, but about himself, his future, and the things that really matter. But eventually, summer must come to an end.

Our Last Summer

“Answer me,” he says, and the smirk fades.


Alex says nothing for a moment more, before finally murmuring, “I am in your summers.”


Ryan thinks, What? So he says, “What?”


“I am part of your summers,” Alex says. “I’m part of this world, out here, in the middle of nowhere, with the sun and midnight wanderings and little secrets that don’t mean anything. I’m not part of that world: of your autumn or winter or spring. I’m not there.”


“You have to come with me,” he says, voice harder than it’s ever been with Alex. “You have to. I can’t just leave you here. What happens next time you get bounced off a coffee table, huh? What then?”


“The same as the first time I got bounced off a coffee table,” Alex says, patiently. “I existed before the village. Before the summers. I’m not going to disappear the moment you leave.”


“You could,” Ryan says. “And I don’t want you to.”


Chapter 57