Summer phoned the hospital early the next morning. She rarely called her
patients there, but the words of the novel she and Mr. Feinberg were
reading together had haunted her dreams.
"Mr. Feinberg, it's Summer," she said after he answered with a sleepy greeting.
"Summer, my dear, how are you?"
"Good." She paused. "Well, actually not so good. I can't stop thinking about the book we're reading - Anna Karenina. Would you mind terribly if I read ahead a few chapters before I come to see you this afternoon?"
"Of course not." He chucked. "Just don't go beyond chapter twenty-two."
"Why?"
"Just promise me." His voice was serious. "It's my favorite part."
She smiled and agreed. "See you at four o'clock."
The two said goodbye and Summer hung up the phone. Quickly, she rifled through her closet. For some reason all of her clothes seemed too bright for her solemn mood. She chose a simple, dark green sundress that she hadn't worn in years, sliding it over her head before smoothing out the silk fabric. She grabbed a tiny clutch purse and headed out to her car.
********************
The Garden Bookstore was quiet this early on a Saturday, and Summer luxuriated in the warm sun with her book. The bookstore, true to its name, featured a large, secluded garden that was nearly empty. Summer had instinctively chosen a seat on a bench built into the side of a large tree. She felt protected there, a necessary emotion for losing herself in the text as Mr. Feinberg had instructed.
She began chapter nine with a renewed sense of excitement. This was Levin's point of view. Unconsciously, she saw Seth in her mind's eye, and heard his voice in her head, as though her were reading the words aloud to her.
She turned her attention to the text and began to read.
"He walked along the path towards the skating-ground, and kept saying to himself-'You mustn't be excited, you must be calm. What's the matter with you? What do you want? Be quiet, stupid,' he conjured his heart. And the more he tried to compose himself, the more breathless he found himself."
She remembered Seth's nervousness, the way his eyes twitched as he recounted the remembrance of her with the mean squirrel. Was this how he felt that night beside the pool? She read on hungrily.
"He walked on a few steps, and the skating-ground lay open before his eyes, and at once, amidst all the skaters, he knew her. The place where she stood seemed to him a holy shrine, unapproachable, and there was one moment when he was almost retreating, so overwhelmed was he with terror."
Summer's breath caught in her throat. Levin was all at once familiar and strange to her. She recognized all of his thoughts, having seen them before in Seth's eyes. But know, as she read the words, feeling the sentences take root in her mind, blossoming into understanding, she felt as though she knew him on a new level.
"He felt as though the sun were coming near him. She was in a corner, and turning out her slender feet in their high boots with obvious timidity, she skated towards him. She skated a little uncertainly; taking her hands out of the little muff that hung on a cord, she held them ready for emergency, and looking towards Levin, whom she had recognized, she smiled at him, and at her own fears. She was more splendid that he had imagined her. But what always struck him in her as something unlooked for, was the expression of her eyes, soft, serene, and truthful, and above all, her smile, which always transported Levin to an enchanted world, where he felt himself softened and tender, as he remembered himself in some days of his early childhood."
Summer gasped with a sharp intake of breath. Inexplicably, she felt her eyes glaze over with unfamiliar wetness. She pressed her fingers under each eye, holding the skin against her cheekbones. All the memories of her own childhood flooded her brain messily, as though someone had opened up a box of memories and thrown them into her conscious. Recollections of Seth Cohen floated before her. She recalled him watching her on the playground as she fed the squirrels, sharing a smile that no one else noticed. He was there as she stood before the class, shyly reciting her mermaid poem as she sneaked looks at him for his steady brown eyes and the guidance they offered. She saw him look down at her on Thanksgiving, smiling as her kissed her, holding her like she was perfect. She shook her head in an attempt to evaporate the memories, returning to the book.
"He approached with timidity, but again her smile reassured him. She gave him her hand, and they set off side by side, going faster and faster, and the more rapidly they moved the more tightly she grasped his hand. 'With you I should soon learn; I somehow feel confidence in you,' she said to him. 'And I have confidence in myself when you are leaning on me,' he said, but was at once panic-stricken at what he had said, and blushed."
"Summer?"
She startled at the sound, looking up with a slightly dazed look upon her face to see Seth Cohen standing over her, a novel clenched in his hands. From another point of view, she realized, they would have looked like two lovers romantically meeting in the garden - she in a green silk dress, her hair gently curling; he framed by a spray of wild roses, tall and strong beside her petite frame.
"Seth." She couldn't help it, her voice was softer than normal, and though her head cried out, no, no, no, her face and voice and heart were saying yes, yes, and asking him if he'd like to sit with her.
Seth settled down and she looked him over. He was wearing a blue-checked oxford shirt with a t-shirt underneath. A few words of type were visible on the gray shirt, but the phrase was impossible to read. He shifted closer to her and his corduroy pants felt soft against her calf. She drew herself up and looked at him, her head tilted to one side.
"I thought you only liked comic books, Cohen." Summer snarked, trying to put her armor back on before his presence affected her. She smirked a little. "You here for another Wonder Woman thrill or something?"
"Yeah, because I knew you'd be here." Seth retorted. "Except, I didn't."
"It's a free country." Summer snapped. "Besides, I'm just a Newport bimbo, so I couldn't like, possibly, be like, reading." Her sarcasm had the desired effect. Seth looked uncomfortable as he regretted his words. Instead of offering a retort or an apology, he reached for her book.
Damn, damn, damn, she thought as goosebumps appeared on her arm when his hand brushed hers.
"Anna Karenina," Seth noted. "Interesting choice."
"I like it." Summer felt defensive about the novel, as though it revealed too much about her. She looked down and couldn't stop herself from adding, "Why are you even here, talking to me? Why aren't you with your Anna?"
Seth caught her chin with his hand, trying to get her to look at him. She fought him stubbornly.
If I look him in the eyes, she thought, it will be the end of me.
He gave up and slid his novel into her lap.
"Anna Karenina." She spoke the title of his book softy. Fate was cruel.
"Summer."
She looked down at the ground, the bench, up at the sky, anywhere but him.
"Summer." Seth spoke with more force now, and she knew that he wasn't like the other boys, he was strong, he wouldn't tolerate her games. He reached out, cupping her face in his hands as she looked at him.
She felt as though she was flying, and all the walls she'd built inside herself weren't tall enough to hold her in, to protect her from this boy she'd known her whole life. In his coffee eyes she saw herself reflected, soft and hazy yet still defined, as though his eyes were able to gloss over her faults and see only the good. It was romantic, to be sure, but it was also terrifying to know that he saw such an idealized version of herself.
Summer pulled back. She gently set the books between them and stood before him. Like partners in a dance, he stood as well. She unbuttoned a few more buttons of his checkered shirt, and then spread the fabric across his chest to read the t-shirt beneath.
"'Have you hugged my t-shirt today?'" Summer read slowly, and then she shook her head. It was so Seth.
Seth.
Impulsively, she wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. His hands almost made a complete circle around her waist and he lifted her up to him as she slid up his body. She nestled her head by his neck, running her fingers through his soft dark hair. Remember, a voice from within spoke to her, and she tried to memorize every sensation she was feeling. He smelled like peppermint, and his arms folded around her as he hugged her tightly. Unknowingly, she gasped for air. Concerned he'd hurt her, he set her down, brushing her hair with his fingers.
"Look, here's the thing." Seth twisted his hands. "I know that last night, it may have looked like me and Anna were together, but we're not."
A smile flashed across Summer's face and she stepped toward him, placing both her hands on his chest and looking up at him.
"Holy Captain Oats, you are so beautiful." He leaned towards her. "With you, I have everything, you're so perfect."
Summer froze and stepped back. She hated that word. Don't cry, the voice said. Just be strong, keep it inside, get away from him and you'll be fine.
She clenched her teeth. "I have to go." Summer moved back to the bench and picked up their books. "You wouldn't want to forget your Anna, would you?"
She began walking quickly through the garden towards the parking lot. By the time she'd reached her car, she thought that she'd lost him. Suddenly, he appeared at her window. His confused face almost broke her heart. Almost.
"Goodbye 'til tonight." The voice seemed not her own, not the cold brush- off she wanted to say. Seth nodded and stepped away from the car as Summer drove off. She saw him in her rearview mirror and felt empty. You're not perfect, the voice inside her reminded her. Better not to get hurt.
Summer nodded her head resolutely and turned on the radio, trying to remember the character she'd created for her own protection.
********************
"'With you I should soon learn; I somehow feel confidence in you,' she said to him. 'And I have confidence in myself when you are leaning on me,' he said, but was at once panic-stricken at what he had said, and blushed."
Summer leaned back onto her couch with her book. She had a few hours before going to the hospital, and she was determined to get to the mysterious chapter twenty-two before visiting Mr. Feinberg again. She liked to make him proud of her.
"And indeed, no sooner had he uttered these words, when all at once, like the sun going behind a cloud, her face lost all its friendliness, and Levin detected the familiar change in her expression that denoted the working of thought; a crease showed on her smooth brow. "Is there anything troubling you?-though I've no right to ask such a question," he added hurriedly. "Oh, why so?.... No, I have nothing to trouble me," she responded coldly.
Oh god, Summer thought, it's me. Her heart reached out for Levin, and she wanted to reach through the fiction and tell him what she knew to be fact - that Kitty loved him, she was just scared, scared by his expectation of her and society's expectations of her, two polar opposites that warred over her ever decision.
"When Levin darted up to Kitty her face was no longer stern; her eyes looked at him with the same sincerity and friendliness, but Levin fancied that in her friendliness there was a certain note of deliberate composure. And he felt depressed."
Summer read it, and she felt it to her very core. Hold it in, the voice had always reminded her. Don't let anyone too close, they'll just hurt you. It had worked, Summer admitted. For sixteen years, she hadn't let anymore get to know the real Summer, and she'd never gotten hurt. Before Seth Cohen, she'd always had fun - she would never have dreamed of crying over a boy. She'd let down her guard, and just like her inner voice had predicted, she'd gotten hurt. She still recalled seeing Seth and Anna holding hands the night before. The image made her sick.
Focus, she told herself as she continued to read.
"Are you going to stay in town long?" Kitty questioned him. "I don't know," he answered, not thinking of what he was saying. The thought that if he were held in check by her tone of quiet friendliness he would end by going back again without deciding anything came into his mind, and he resolved to make a struggle against it. "How is it you don't know?" "I don't know. It depends upon you," he said, and was immediately horror-stricken at his own words. Whether it was that she had heard his words, or that she did not want to hear them, she made a sort of stumble, twice struck out, and hurriedly skated away from him."
Summer dazedly read the next few paragraphs as Levin arranged to visit Kitty's family. The words blurred before her eyes until a few sentences leapt out at her.
"Levin was wondering what that change in Kitty's expression had meant, and alternately assuring himself that there was hope, and falling into despair, seeing clearly that his hopes were insane, and yet all the while he felt himself quite another man, utterly unlike what he had been before her smile and those words, "Good-bye till this evening."
Summer saw Seth's conflicted, confusion expression as he stood beside her car. She heard herself utter the modern equivalent of Kitty's words: "Goodbye 'til tonight." And she breathed in deeply, feeling the air rise and fall within her chest, torn between the fear of losing Seth and the fear of letting him in.
"Mr. Feinberg, it's Summer," she said after he answered with a sleepy greeting.
"Summer, my dear, how are you?"
"Good." She paused. "Well, actually not so good. I can't stop thinking about the book we're reading - Anna Karenina. Would you mind terribly if I read ahead a few chapters before I come to see you this afternoon?"
"Of course not." He chucked. "Just don't go beyond chapter twenty-two."
"Why?"
"Just promise me." His voice was serious. "It's my favorite part."
She smiled and agreed. "See you at four o'clock."
The two said goodbye and Summer hung up the phone. Quickly, she rifled through her closet. For some reason all of her clothes seemed too bright for her solemn mood. She chose a simple, dark green sundress that she hadn't worn in years, sliding it over her head before smoothing out the silk fabric. She grabbed a tiny clutch purse and headed out to her car.
********************
The Garden Bookstore was quiet this early on a Saturday, and Summer luxuriated in the warm sun with her book. The bookstore, true to its name, featured a large, secluded garden that was nearly empty. Summer had instinctively chosen a seat on a bench built into the side of a large tree. She felt protected there, a necessary emotion for losing herself in the text as Mr. Feinberg had instructed.
She began chapter nine with a renewed sense of excitement. This was Levin's point of view. Unconsciously, she saw Seth in her mind's eye, and heard his voice in her head, as though her were reading the words aloud to her.
She turned her attention to the text and began to read.
"He walked along the path towards the skating-ground, and kept saying to himself-'You mustn't be excited, you must be calm. What's the matter with you? What do you want? Be quiet, stupid,' he conjured his heart. And the more he tried to compose himself, the more breathless he found himself."
She remembered Seth's nervousness, the way his eyes twitched as he recounted the remembrance of her with the mean squirrel. Was this how he felt that night beside the pool? She read on hungrily.
"He walked on a few steps, and the skating-ground lay open before his eyes, and at once, amidst all the skaters, he knew her. The place where she stood seemed to him a holy shrine, unapproachable, and there was one moment when he was almost retreating, so overwhelmed was he with terror."
Summer's breath caught in her throat. Levin was all at once familiar and strange to her. She recognized all of his thoughts, having seen them before in Seth's eyes. But know, as she read the words, feeling the sentences take root in her mind, blossoming into understanding, she felt as though she knew him on a new level.
"He felt as though the sun were coming near him. She was in a corner, and turning out her slender feet in their high boots with obvious timidity, she skated towards him. She skated a little uncertainly; taking her hands out of the little muff that hung on a cord, she held them ready for emergency, and looking towards Levin, whom she had recognized, she smiled at him, and at her own fears. She was more splendid that he had imagined her. But what always struck him in her as something unlooked for, was the expression of her eyes, soft, serene, and truthful, and above all, her smile, which always transported Levin to an enchanted world, where he felt himself softened and tender, as he remembered himself in some days of his early childhood."
Summer gasped with a sharp intake of breath. Inexplicably, she felt her eyes glaze over with unfamiliar wetness. She pressed her fingers under each eye, holding the skin against her cheekbones. All the memories of her own childhood flooded her brain messily, as though someone had opened up a box of memories and thrown them into her conscious. Recollections of Seth Cohen floated before her. She recalled him watching her on the playground as she fed the squirrels, sharing a smile that no one else noticed. He was there as she stood before the class, shyly reciting her mermaid poem as she sneaked looks at him for his steady brown eyes and the guidance they offered. She saw him look down at her on Thanksgiving, smiling as her kissed her, holding her like she was perfect. She shook her head in an attempt to evaporate the memories, returning to the book.
"He approached with timidity, but again her smile reassured him. She gave him her hand, and they set off side by side, going faster and faster, and the more rapidly they moved the more tightly she grasped his hand. 'With you I should soon learn; I somehow feel confidence in you,' she said to him. 'And I have confidence in myself when you are leaning on me,' he said, but was at once panic-stricken at what he had said, and blushed."
"Summer?"
She startled at the sound, looking up with a slightly dazed look upon her face to see Seth Cohen standing over her, a novel clenched in his hands. From another point of view, she realized, they would have looked like two lovers romantically meeting in the garden - she in a green silk dress, her hair gently curling; he framed by a spray of wild roses, tall and strong beside her petite frame.
"Seth." She couldn't help it, her voice was softer than normal, and though her head cried out, no, no, no, her face and voice and heart were saying yes, yes, and asking him if he'd like to sit with her.
Seth settled down and she looked him over. He was wearing a blue-checked oxford shirt with a t-shirt underneath. A few words of type were visible on the gray shirt, but the phrase was impossible to read. He shifted closer to her and his corduroy pants felt soft against her calf. She drew herself up and looked at him, her head tilted to one side.
"I thought you only liked comic books, Cohen." Summer snarked, trying to put her armor back on before his presence affected her. She smirked a little. "You here for another Wonder Woman thrill or something?"
"Yeah, because I knew you'd be here." Seth retorted. "Except, I didn't."
"It's a free country." Summer snapped. "Besides, I'm just a Newport bimbo, so I couldn't like, possibly, be like, reading." Her sarcasm had the desired effect. Seth looked uncomfortable as he regretted his words. Instead of offering a retort or an apology, he reached for her book.
Damn, damn, damn, she thought as goosebumps appeared on her arm when his hand brushed hers.
"Anna Karenina," Seth noted. "Interesting choice."
"I like it." Summer felt defensive about the novel, as though it revealed too much about her. She looked down and couldn't stop herself from adding, "Why are you even here, talking to me? Why aren't you with your Anna?"
Seth caught her chin with his hand, trying to get her to look at him. She fought him stubbornly.
If I look him in the eyes, she thought, it will be the end of me.
He gave up and slid his novel into her lap.
"Anna Karenina." She spoke the title of his book softy. Fate was cruel.
"Summer."
She looked down at the ground, the bench, up at the sky, anywhere but him.
"Summer." Seth spoke with more force now, and she knew that he wasn't like the other boys, he was strong, he wouldn't tolerate her games. He reached out, cupping her face in his hands as she looked at him.
She felt as though she was flying, and all the walls she'd built inside herself weren't tall enough to hold her in, to protect her from this boy she'd known her whole life. In his coffee eyes she saw herself reflected, soft and hazy yet still defined, as though his eyes were able to gloss over her faults and see only the good. It was romantic, to be sure, but it was also terrifying to know that he saw such an idealized version of herself.
Summer pulled back. She gently set the books between them and stood before him. Like partners in a dance, he stood as well. She unbuttoned a few more buttons of his checkered shirt, and then spread the fabric across his chest to read the t-shirt beneath.
"'Have you hugged my t-shirt today?'" Summer read slowly, and then she shook her head. It was so Seth.
Seth.
Impulsively, she wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. His hands almost made a complete circle around her waist and he lifted her up to him as she slid up his body. She nestled her head by his neck, running her fingers through his soft dark hair. Remember, a voice from within spoke to her, and she tried to memorize every sensation she was feeling. He smelled like peppermint, and his arms folded around her as he hugged her tightly. Unknowingly, she gasped for air. Concerned he'd hurt her, he set her down, brushing her hair with his fingers.
"Look, here's the thing." Seth twisted his hands. "I know that last night, it may have looked like me and Anna were together, but we're not."
A smile flashed across Summer's face and she stepped toward him, placing both her hands on his chest and looking up at him.
"Holy Captain Oats, you are so beautiful." He leaned towards her. "With you, I have everything, you're so perfect."
Summer froze and stepped back. She hated that word. Don't cry, the voice said. Just be strong, keep it inside, get away from him and you'll be fine.
She clenched her teeth. "I have to go." Summer moved back to the bench and picked up their books. "You wouldn't want to forget your Anna, would you?"
She began walking quickly through the garden towards the parking lot. By the time she'd reached her car, she thought that she'd lost him. Suddenly, he appeared at her window. His confused face almost broke her heart. Almost.
"Goodbye 'til tonight." The voice seemed not her own, not the cold brush- off she wanted to say. Seth nodded and stepped away from the car as Summer drove off. She saw him in her rearview mirror and felt empty. You're not perfect, the voice inside her reminded her. Better not to get hurt.
Summer nodded her head resolutely and turned on the radio, trying to remember the character she'd created for her own protection.
********************
"'With you I should soon learn; I somehow feel confidence in you,' she said to him. 'And I have confidence in myself when you are leaning on me,' he said, but was at once panic-stricken at what he had said, and blushed."
Summer leaned back onto her couch with her book. She had a few hours before going to the hospital, and she was determined to get to the mysterious chapter twenty-two before visiting Mr. Feinberg again. She liked to make him proud of her.
"And indeed, no sooner had he uttered these words, when all at once, like the sun going behind a cloud, her face lost all its friendliness, and Levin detected the familiar change in her expression that denoted the working of thought; a crease showed on her smooth brow. "Is there anything troubling you?-though I've no right to ask such a question," he added hurriedly. "Oh, why so?.... No, I have nothing to trouble me," she responded coldly.
Oh god, Summer thought, it's me. Her heart reached out for Levin, and she wanted to reach through the fiction and tell him what she knew to be fact - that Kitty loved him, she was just scared, scared by his expectation of her and society's expectations of her, two polar opposites that warred over her ever decision.
"When Levin darted up to Kitty her face was no longer stern; her eyes looked at him with the same sincerity and friendliness, but Levin fancied that in her friendliness there was a certain note of deliberate composure. And he felt depressed."
Summer read it, and she felt it to her very core. Hold it in, the voice had always reminded her. Don't let anyone too close, they'll just hurt you. It had worked, Summer admitted. For sixteen years, she hadn't let anymore get to know the real Summer, and she'd never gotten hurt. Before Seth Cohen, she'd always had fun - she would never have dreamed of crying over a boy. She'd let down her guard, and just like her inner voice had predicted, she'd gotten hurt. She still recalled seeing Seth and Anna holding hands the night before. The image made her sick.
Focus, she told herself as she continued to read.
"Are you going to stay in town long?" Kitty questioned him. "I don't know," he answered, not thinking of what he was saying. The thought that if he were held in check by her tone of quiet friendliness he would end by going back again without deciding anything came into his mind, and he resolved to make a struggle against it. "How is it you don't know?" "I don't know. It depends upon you," he said, and was immediately horror-stricken at his own words. Whether it was that she had heard his words, or that she did not want to hear them, she made a sort of stumble, twice struck out, and hurriedly skated away from him."
Summer dazedly read the next few paragraphs as Levin arranged to visit Kitty's family. The words blurred before her eyes until a few sentences leapt out at her.
"Levin was wondering what that change in Kitty's expression had meant, and alternately assuring himself that there was hope, and falling into despair, seeing clearly that his hopes were insane, and yet all the while he felt himself quite another man, utterly unlike what he had been before her smile and those words, "Good-bye till this evening."
Summer saw Seth's conflicted, confusion expression as he stood beside her car. She heard herself utter the modern equivalent of Kitty's words: "Goodbye 'til tonight." And she breathed in deeply, feeling the air rise and fall within her chest, torn between the fear of losing Seth and the fear of letting him in.
