Wild Summer by Suki Fleet Page A

eat? Although she had signed to him, he wondered how much she would understand. But she was watching him so carefully, he guessed she knew quite a bit. He was sure Summer was the one to have taught her.
    Stay here, Sky signed. I don’t want to go back there. I want to stay here with you. That last comment seemed directed at Summer.
    Summer put the phone down. “What happened?” he asked Sky.
    I missed home, Sky signed and started crying again. Her face crumpled as Summer held her tight.
    “You don’t get to just run away when you feel like it. Do you know how worried I’ve been? We’ve been…,”he added, giving Crash a puzzled frown. “Thank you,” he continued, holding Crash’s gaze. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.”
    “What? Worried?” Crash shrugged, perplexed. “I’m just glad Sky is okay.” That was all that mattered right now, wasn’t it?
    Feeling redundant and wanting to give them some privacy, Crash went downstairs to look for the kitchen. It wasn’t a big house, and there were only two rooms downstairs: a stale and dingy living room with thin curtains drawn over the window and the tiny kitchenette at the back.
    A quick search of the cupboards provided him with a couple of tea bags but no milk. Crash lit the gas hob anyway and boiled a pan of water, hoping the gas hadn’t been cut off like the electricity had. Thankfully, it held out. Black tea wasn’t his favorite drink, but he made it anyway. Having something to do distracted him. He poured a cup for Summer and went to take it upstairs. But Summer was on his way down, carrying Sky in his arms, her eyes closed, her limbs hanging loosely.
    “She’s tired out. I’m going to lie her down on one of the sofas down here.”
    The brown half-collapsed sofas were the only pieces of furniture that remained in the house as far as Crash could tell.
    “You disappeared,” Summer said, coming through into the kitchen. Crash handed him the cup of tea and leaned back against the work surface. The room darkened as the sun disappeared behind a cloud.
    Summer looked uncomfortable. Thought you’d gone, he signed after putting the tea down.
    Crash looked away, through the chintzy net curtains to the dying day beyond, wondering if Summer wanted him to go. “Estella will suggest Sky go back.”
    I know, Summer signed, moving into Crash’s space, standing so close it would be so easy to close the gap between them. I’ve talked to Sky. Told her how worried I was. I don’t think she’ll run again. The foster people she’s with don’t seem so bad. They were a bit wary of me at first, but they were the ones who told me she was missing. They have a nice house, and they’re kind to her. I just wish she could stay with me.
    The wistful look on his face made Crash’s heart hurt for him.
    Hesitantly, Summer brushed his thumb against Crash’s cheek, the touch so tender it paralyzed all thought or response. “Thank you again,” he mouthed, quickly stepping away to pick up his tea, his face hidden behind the mug as he drank.
    “What now?” Crash asked, feeling his voice do something weird as he spoke.
    Summer just looked at him, his knuckles tightening around the handle of the mug. All at once the atmosphere felt spiked with electricity.
    “I should call Ren,” Summer said finally.
    Ren who treated Summer like shit. Ren who’d done nothing to help find Sky. Ren who wasn’t here.
    The words were like a punch to Crash’s gut, knocking all the air out of him. His phone had become so heavy in his pocket, it took all his strength to hold it out. But he did hold it out, because however much he felt, this wasn’t about him. This was about Summer and Sky.
    Summer stared at him a while longer before taking it, and Crash hated that he couldn’t disguise his emotions better. He hated not being able to pretend this was okay. He hated not being able to pretend he wasn’t hurt. But the way Summer was looking at him made him think there was something else