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

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” she says, watching him as if she’s trying to figure something out, and Ryan nods.


“Yeah,” he says, “I’m loving him. That’s…that’s all that’s important, right now.”


And the way Mara smiles again—smaller, but a smile—he reckons he finally said—to her—the right thing.


Alex arrives the next day. He texts Ryan early that morning, saying merely that he’s left the village. In the early afternoon, twitchy and hovering outside the library in the drizzle, Ryan calls him, shifting from foot to foot impatiently. The phone rings for a long time before it gets answered, just before Ryan was about to give up and try again in ten minutes, and, as usual, Ryan is the first to speak.


It’s too late for Ryan’s liking, too many hours for Alex to duck out, or for something to go wrong. But nothing can really be done about train timetables.


Chapter 61