I could feel my flush from the car return. He had never looked at me like that before in my whole life. Conrad gave me a quick glance-over the way boys do at the mall. They didn't even notice me walk up at first. I got out of the car and slung my bag over my shoulder. She disappeared into the house with her sunglasses perched on the top of her head. My mother's hug was as firm and solid as her handshake. My mother walked over to them in about three strides, and she hugged them both, tightly. Usually she came flying out of the house the second our car pulled up. She's taking a nap," Jeremiah called back. It looked just the way I thought a beach house should look. The house was large and gray and white, and it looked like most every other house on the road, but better.
I pretended to be tying the laces on my sneakers, but really I just wanted a moment to look at them, at the house for a little while, in private. The air smelled salty and wet, like it might rain seawater any second. I sat in the car and watched Steven amble up to them and hug the way guys do. Jeremiah made a megaphone with his hands and yelled, "Steve-o!" Susannah called him her little angel, and he used to look like one, with his rosy cheeks and yellow curls. As Jeremiah got older, though, his hair was less and less curly and more wavy. Your hair curly, so Jeremiah had stopped eating sandwich crusts, and Conrad would polish them off. For a while, Conrad had him convinced that crusts made When he was younger, it was curly yellow, almost platinum in the summer. Unlike Jeremiah's, whose hair had gotten longer, so he looked a little shaggy but in a good way-like a 1970s tennis player. His hair was cut short around his ears and was as dark as ever. He was taller than last summer, if you can believe it. I leaned over Steven and honked the horn twice, which in our summer language meant, Come help with the bags, stat Conrad was eighteen now. When we finally pulled up to the house, Jeremiah and Conrad were sitting out on the front porch.