When I walk into work on the last day of camp, Mrs. Hermann stops me. “Mrs. Johnson wanted to thank you for what you did for Caleb,” she says, holding out an envelope. “She left this when she dropped him off this morning.”

“She didn’t have to do that!” I exclaim, taking it. “I was just doing my job.”

“And a good one at that,” Mrs. H says. “Mr. Tyler said the ER doctors told him that they wouldn’t have done the first aid any differently.”

I feel a glow of pride in my chest. I’ve worked really hard to get certified as an EMT, and it feels good to know the ER staff thinks I’m good at it.

On the way to meet my campers, I open the envelope. Caleb made me an adorable thank-you card. He’s drawn the two of us, him with a very broken-looking arm and a speech bubble saying, “OWWWWW!” and me looking like some kind of superhero.

“Hey, Dara, whatcha got there?” Will says, bounding over.

“Caleb made this for me,” I say, showing him the card.

“Caleb’s got your number,” he says. “Like I said, you are Wonder Woman. And now you’ve got the ringtone to match.”

I feel the heat rising in my face and wonder if Will’s noticed the way I’ve been checking him out for the last month, because I realized that he’s actually kind of hot, even if we are mortal academic enemies.

“So, can I give you a ride to the party later?” Will asks. “I can’t stay too late because I have to retake the SAT tomorrow but …”

One of the other counselors, Marina, is having an end-of-camp pool party for the counselors after work. She lives in the part of town where big houses have stupid-long driveways and a billion bedrooms, and everyone has a pool. It’s basically the perfect place to have a party.

“Sure,” I say, my heart beating a little faster in anticipation. “I’m fine with not staying too late.”

“Great! Well, good luck surviving the last day,” he says. “I hope it’s free of any grossness.”

I laugh. “Me too. Oh my god, me too!”

The camp day ends without me encountering any broken bones, barf, or other medical issues besides Zoey Carter needing a Band-Aid for a skinned knee. I count that as a win. After saying goodbye to all my campers and waving them off at pickup for the last time, I head to the bathroom to change before the party. I swap the simple tank bathing suit and Camp Terabyte T-shirt I’ve been wearing for work with a bikini, high-waisted white denim shorts, and a short-sleeve floral shirt that I knot at the waist. I don’t wear makeup to camp because I’d just sweat it off, but I apply a bit of tinted lip gloss and brush out my hair before putting it back up in a messy bun.

“You clean up well,” Will says with a grin when I meet him by his car.

He’s changed out of his camp T-shirt into a GHS Track shirt and a different pair of swim trunks. The color accentuates his tan and makes his eyes pop.

“You clean up pretty well yourself,” I tell him. We smile at each other, and I feel a tingle of anticipation creeping up my spine.

“Let’s hit the party,” he says, unlocking the car. “I’m looking forward to being by a pool where I’m not in charge of making sure kids don’t drown each other.”

“You and me both,” I say.

The party is already hopping by the time we get there. Marina’s parents have put out a great spread: barbecue and veggie burgers, plus lots of sides and salads. I’m suddenly starved and immediately start piling food onto my plate. I carefully balance it and drop down next to Will at one of the tables.

“How do you pack so much food into such a small you?” Will asks as he watches me devour what’s on my plate.

“All my brainwork burns it off,” I say, before taking another bite of my veggie burger.

“Okay, I know your brain is active, but I’m not sure that’s how this works.”

“Trust me, I’m an EMT,” I say.

Will laughs. It’s loud and deep, like he means it.

I grin. “It’s true! Your brain is about two percent of your body weight, but accounts for about twenty percent of your body’s energy use.”

He gives me a skeptical look. “Riiiight. So I can give up track and still maintain this hot bod by just sitting at a desk and studying? I don’t think so.”

“Not exactly,” I say. “Especially if you’re eating chips and drinking Mountain Dew.”

“Well, I guess that means I better swim,” he says, shoving his plate away and pulling his T-shirt over his head. I try to concentrate on my burger, but his six-pack distracts me. I choke, and he gives me a series of increasingly less gentle thumps between my shoulder blades until I can breathe again.

“You okay?” he asks, looking at me with concern.

“Yeah … something just went down the wrong way.”

“See you in the pool, then.”

He dives in, and as I finish my food, I watch him swim a few laps, admiring the ripple of his muscles as he cuts through the water.

Time to cool off, Dara.

I cannonball into the pool when he’s in the deep end, far enough to be safe but close enough that he gets splashed, big-time.

“Nice, Simons,” he says. “You make a big splash for a small person.”

“ ‘Though she be but little, she is fierce,’ ” I say. “It’s like Shakespeare knew me or something.”

Will swims close to me and treads water, his long legs moving in a circular motion and bumping into mine. “You probably won’t believe this,” he says, drops of water clinging to his eyelashes and cheekbones. “But when we read A Midsummer Night’s Dream sophomore year, I thought of you when I read that line.”

“Yeah, right,” I say, throwing a small splash at him.

“No, really! I did!” He grins. “Because you kept kicking my butt on every test. Made me realize I’m not always the smartest guy in the room.”

“Or even the smartest person,” I say.

“I stand corrected,” Will says. “Or more accurately, tread water corrected.”

He swims over to where a double pool float is drifting, empty. “Wanna share this?” he asks me, hauling himself aboard.

“Sure!”

He extends a hand and helps me get on it, and we lie down next to each other, looking up at the clear blue sky, decorated with puffs of clouds. The late afternoon sun warms my skin, and the water droplets beading on it slowly evaporate.

“So have you got anything fun planned for the last week of summer?” Will asks.

“Relaxing?” I say. “Oh, and I’m scheduled for a bunch of long EMT shifts.”

“Do you ever get freaked out by the stuff that happens?” he asks. “I don’t think I could handle blood.”

“Fortunately, I’ve never been on a call with lots of blood,” I say. “Hopefully I’ll be cool, but I guess we won’t find out until it happens.”

“What made you want to be an EMT?” he asks. “It’s, like, a huge time commitment, isn’t it?”

“Probably no more than track during the season,” I say. I falter for a moment. I still find it hard to explain the why. “But … my reason for doing it? It’s really personal—and maybe not one hundred percent rational.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” he says, turning his head to me so that our noses practically touch, and I feel his breath on my skin when he exhales and smell the chlorine on his.

I take a deep breath and look back at the clouds, because I feel too vulnerable looking into his eyes while I talk about it.

“It’s just that … well, my dad died in a drunk driving accident. I mean, everyone knows that part, I guess. But the paramedics tried to keep him alive to make it to the hospital, but … they couldn’t.” I swallow, hard. “I was really messed up after. I probably still am.” I try to toss that line off, but it gets stuck in my throat. “I know nothing will bring my dad back, but maybe, someday, if I’m a trauma surgeon, I might be able to save another kid’s parent, so they don’t have to go through what I did.”

Will moves his hand slightly, so that his pinkie touches mine. I glance over at him from the corner of my eye. He looks at me, his eyes darkening.

“I don’t think you’re messed up, Dara. I think you’re pretty amazing.”

“You two look way too serious,” Marina shouts from the side of the pool. “Someone flip them!”

She doesn’t have to ask twice. Tommy Walter and Bella Espinoza swim up under us and tip the float over. Will slides off over me, and he grasps my hand to pull me to the surface. A splash war ensues, until I have to swim to the side because I’m laughing so hard.

It’s dark by the time we leave the party.

“I think every mosquito in the county bit me,” I grumble as we head to the car.

“It’s because you’re so sweet,” he says, flashing me a grin. “They didn’t touch me.”

“So unfair.” I playfully bump him with my hip and am rewarded with his laugh.

We get to the car and I lean against it, waiting for him to unlock the passenger side door. He pauses next to me, key in hand. I suddenly realize we’re in each other’s space. I can feel the heat radiating from his bare skin. I move over a few inches, until I’m blocking the door he was about to unlock.

“So we’re not leaving?” Will asks, his voice soft and languid.

I shake my head. “I mean, not unless you want to. Do you?”

“No. I mean, yes I want to.” He looks confused for a minute.

I let out a low laugh.

“What’s the question, Dara?” Will asks. Then his eyes flick to my lips, and he leans forward but stops to look me in the eye. Checking to make sure.

I nod and slide my fingers across his collarbone and around the back of his neck. I give a small pull and Will’s mouth crushes against mine. He tastes like coconut and barbecue and sunshine, and a rush takes over my whole body. I can feel the thrum of my heart as Will tugs me closer and my fingers tangle in the ends of his still-damp hair. His thumbs graze my hips as he steadies me before he changes the angle and deepens things. The feeling of Will, summer, this kiss expands around us, and I’m lost in it.

Voices echo in the haze of our kissing, breaking the moment. I pull back, dazed, and scoot away from Will so he can unlock the door. He gives a slow laugh. “Time to go?”

I just grin at him, feeling too flustered for more. Will fumbles and pulls out his phone before swiping the flashlight on and aiming it at the ground. “Gotcha!” he says, standing up and pocketing his phone. He’s holding his keys up triumphantly.

I just stare at him.

“I dropped them when you kissed me,” he says with a sheepish smile.

A loud laugh explodes from deep in my belly. I don’t know why this is funny, but I can’t stop laughing, even after Will’s unlocked the door and I’m in the car. But it’s okay because Will’s grinning at me.

Finally, my laughter drifts off and he starts the engine. I keep glancing over at his profile as we drive to my house, exchanging funny stories about our campers.

I catch him doing the same, and he flashes a small smile.

“So … I’ve got the SAT tomorrow,” he says. “That’s part of the pressure my dad’s putting on me. He said I need better scores to get into Stanford, so I’ve been doing practice tests every night. But … maybe I could see you tomorrow night after the test?”

“How about that movie?” I say.

“Awesome,” he says, pulling into my driveway.

I jump out and smile back into the car at him.

“Thanks for the ride home,” I say.

“Thanks for the kiss,” he says with a grin. I blow him another one and shut the door. I watch him back out of the driveway, then I walk to the house, filled with an even greater sense of anticipation about the coming school year.