When I wake up the next morning, someone is beating the crap out of a gigantic drum inside my head. I can feel my eyeballs pulsating in perfect time with the drumming rhythm inside my skull. My alarm has decided I'm sleeping too heavily, and, in addition to its usual get-the-fuck-up music it plays, it's taking full axe swings right across my forehead. I open my eyes tentatively, but the sunlight attacks my pupils like hardcore laser beams.

A fucking hangover. Fantastic.

Somehow I muster the strength to climb down my bunk, dragging my feet across the wooden floor to the first desk drawer, because Alex's wisdom prepared me for this moment. I open the drawer and pull out a couple of Tylenols, then wash them down with a long swig of lukewarm water. I rub my eyes with my fingers, hoping this alone might relieve the pressure, but it feels like it has the opposite effect. I take another long swig of the disgusting lukewarm water, because I can't believe how thirsty I am.

I kick Martin to wake him up, but he's sleeping like a dead person, so instead, I just leave him alone and drag my useless legs to the kitchen. When I get there, I find Alex, up and dressed and making breakfast.

"Morning, Little John. Take a seat, it's almost ready."

I drag out a chair, collapse into it, and drop my throbbing head on the table.

"This sucks..." I mean to say good morning, but I can't help myself.

Alex chuckles a little. "Oh, so it kicked your head, huh?"

I want to hurl the table at him, but I have no strength for that. "How come you're okay? You drank a six-pack all on your own..."

He laughs loudly, shattering the stillness of the peaceful house while adding to the unruly noise inside my head. "Just how often do you think I drink, Little John?"

"Well, I haven't really seen you drunk so I guessed not a lot."

"You've never seen me drunk because, after so much partying, I've gained endurance." He places a big cup of steamy milk and coffee in front of me. "You might think drinking is a big deal now, but wait until you hit college."

"Yeah, I don't think I want to drink alcohol ever again."

"We all say that after our first hangover." He chuckles again before tossing me a banana. "Here. Eat this. Potassium is supposed to help with hangovers, too."

I don't know if it's the bananas, the pills, or the fresh air, but once Martin and I are outside and have walked a couple of blocks, I feel a lot better. I tell Martin this to prompt some conversation, because it's still pretty early, and he's not in full chat mode yet.

"You kind of look better," he says, giving me the once over. Then he yawns into the crook of his arm.

And that's it; he's just sleepy. There isn't a trace of a hangover whatsoever. How is that fair?

"It's probably in your best interest if Vee doesn't find out you woke up feeling like trash, though," Martin advises.

I nod. "You bet." If Vee notices, and I'm forced to tell her about last night's beach party, I'm in for some trouble. "I'll never hear the last of it."

"Yeah, and chances are it would be my fault."

"What do you mean? It's not like you shoved beer bottles down my throat."

"You know Vee," Martin says. "Every time you do anything unprecedented or unexpected she tends to think it's my fucking idea."

"Well, true that." My cousin has a point.

"Right?"

"I mean it's true that it's usually your idea to do stupid shit."

"Oh yeah? Prove it."

"Since you mentioned it last night, last Christmas's cigarette."

"Oh, come on," Martin says, rolling his eyes. "That's nothing compared to what I have in store for this Christmas."

"See? You're just proving my point, Martin." And I try not to think about the fact that I might not be here for Christmas this year.

"Oh, look. Speak of the devil." He gestures to the corner ahead of us where Vee is waiting.

"She's not the devil." I bump his arm and jog ahead to greet my girlfriend. "Good morning, baby angel!"

"Morning, John." She greets me with her usual beautiful smile, and man, this girl is the antidote; the angel to Martin's unholy beast. I cup her face in both hands, kissing her deeply, because for some reason it feels like I haven't seen her in forever. So deeply, in fact, that she gives me a little pat—a sign I'm taking things a step too far. I allow us to break apart, and she fixes me with a grin not unlike her sister's. "What's up with you today, lover boy?"

"I don't know. I just..." Yeah, it's there. I see it. Candace's tears from yesterday welling up in Vee's eyes. I know it's all in my head, but I don't want to see it, so I cup her face again and kiss her imaginary sadness away, except this time I'm not the only one who gets into it. Her hands, hesitant at first, ease up around me, pulling me closer as she leans deeper into the kiss.

"I mean, it's good that you two lovebirds are so in love and shit," Martin says, "but we're going to be late."

My head's still a little fuzzy, and I'm not sure if it's from the hangover, or the kiss. But Vee is quick with a comeback, as usual. "I never thought that you of all people would be the one telling us we're running late to school."

"Don't get used to it," Martin chides.

"Geez, I'm not sure we'll get to experience that ever again!" she jokes, but man, that's no laughing matter. She runs her palm across my cheek. "You okay, babe?"

I shake my head and the thought away, and summon a smile. "Yeah, absolutely."

She traces her finger along my chin. "You've got stubble today. I like it."

"Really? I'll space my shavings, then. Just for you."

"You're the absolute sweetest." She stands on her tiptoes a little and pecks my cheek, and we resume our walk to school. The warm morning is a contradiction to last night's cold breeze, and it's one of the many signs that school is coming to an end. We're in the last stretch of November, and as soon as December gets underway, it's hello summer vacation! Again, it's hard to ignore the distinct possibility that I might not be here to enjoy Celadon's beautiful beaches and starry summer night skies.

But it's useless to overthink this until Mom calls, whether it is to seal the deal or not. Either way, I just want to know.

When we reach the school grounds, there are more signs of the year coming to an end. People are buzzing around everywhere, and you can feel who is stressing about their grades, and who aren't. I guess today will be the day I find out which camp I'm going to park in.

Goddamned literature.

The first two periods are math, and, as we expected, all three of us are safe. Martin's grades are just good enough to let him squeak by and that's enough for him. I'm flying away with a very solid A-, and Vee, of course, nails a perfect score. Bio already gave us our grades last week and is preparing those who are in the dark zone, which thankfully, includes none of us. So, there's a free period to spend at the cafeteria. There are a lot of people enjoying free periods here and there now; another sure sign that school is almost over.

"I'd have some coffee right now, but it's so damn hot already." Martin slouches in a chair, lazily fanning himself with a notebook. He's right, though; the warm morning went to hot as soon as the sun rose, and it's promising to rise to scorching as the day wears on.

"Should we get a cold drink?" Vee asks, but she doesn't seem all that desperate to beat the heat. Maybe it's because she has so little fat on her; she doesn't really suffer through hot days as much as the rest of us do.

"I'll go get some," I offer, and as I walk over to the counter, I'm startled to discover Leslie Durham is in the line before me. I wonder how it is that Martin didn't spot her before. She notices me as soon as take my place in the line.

"Oh, hi there, John." She offers me a bright smile, and I quickly remember why, in the beginning, Martin liked this girl so much. And man, she's even hotter than she was last year.

"Morning, Les."

"Free period?"

"Yup, bio is doing reviews for the poor suckers who didn't make it."

"Man, I miss being in third. We have mandatory exams starting this year and it's pretty hard to stay calm," she says, twisting a lock of hair around her fingers.

Mandatory exams for fifth and sixth grades sounds like a freaking nightmare. Especially since difficulty is supposed to ramp up like crazy with each passing year.

"Alex told me it's hell," I tell Leslie.

"It is. It has a way of ruining an otherwise perfect summer." She scratches her cheek idly with a perfectly polished nail. Plain purple with glitter and, this time, no animal blobs. "You guys got any cool summer plans?"

"Not really." It's hard to plan anything when you don't know even know if you're going to be sticking around, but I don't tell Leslie any of this.

"I bet Martin has it all figured out. He's always up to something." She looks down and rubs an imaginary speck of dirt off tip of her shoe. "How is he, by the way?"

I try to look a little bored. "He's your usual motherfucker." I don't know if she's asking because she's actually interested in him again, but if she is, I'm hoping what I've said will deter her from trying. But she just laughs.

"He's hanging out over there with Veronica." I add, gesturing at our table with my thumb.

"Right," Leslie says. "You two are still dating? That's amazing."

"It'll be a year and seven months in a few days," I tell her proudly. I know not many people make it that far, and Leslie is clearly impressed. So much so, she actually whistles.

"That's pretty much a lifetime."

"And then some," I add.

My phone pings in my pocket and I dive for it without delay. "Sorry, I'm waiting for a call, so I need to—

"No problem. Tell your cousin I said hi, will you?"

I nod to her, and my phone lights up in my hand. It's a message from Mom. With my heart beating like a jackhammer, I jog over to our table before reading it.

"What's up, John?" Vee asks, concerned.

Martin frowns. "What the hell, dude? No drinks?"

"Later," I say, holding up my phone. "Just got a message from Mom."

"Already?" Martin frowns. We weren't expecting news before noon.

"I don't know any more than you do." I say, then allow myself to finally read the message. Despite the heat, Martin and Vee lean against me so they can read the message, too.

In the waiting room with Grandma. I'll update as soon as I get any news. Love you, John.

We all deflate at the same time. Martin is the first to complain, obviously.

"Okay," he says. "That was a bust."

"It makes sense, though," Vee says, heading back to the counter. "It's still too early."

"It still blows," I say, adrenaline racing through my veins.

"Kinda ruined my fucking morning." Martin slouches back on his chair and resumes the fanning with the notebook.

"Well," I say, "if it lifts your mood at all, Leslie says hi." And, just like that, his bad mood lifts. Like, instantly. His emerald eyes require more info, but his lips don't move. So I point my thumb back at the counter, where Leslie is busy putting her order on her tray.

"This might be my chance to see her in a freaking bikini," Martin says, and just like that, he's up and out of his chair, gliding toward his prey as she walks out of the cafeteria.

The honorable thing to do would be to try and keep him out of her way, but after so long? It's pointless. Even I learn my lessons.

I walk up to Vee and put my arms around her waist, hugging her from behind. I don't know what's with my sudden urge to be glued to her at all times, and I don't care one bit about the rising temperature. I inhale deeply as I kiss her neck. She smells like bubblegum, flowers and joy. Lots of joy. "Hi, gorgeous," I whisper into her ear. "Come here often?"

She shifts a little and kisses my cheek. "Yeah. And sometimes I come here with my boyfriend."

"Oh, so you're taken? Damn. Lucky guy, whoever he is."

She beams at me. "I'm probably the one who lucked out."

And this time, instead of thinking about our possible separation this summer, I simply rest my head against her neck, and breathe in more joy.