Midsummer. Shade. The buzz of cicadas.
His hand rested lightly on her shoulder, but it was enough to make Sydney Sawyer's face flush and her heart race.
The graduation gown was already stuffy, and now she felt even hotter. The chatter and laughter of her classmates, the frantic chirping of the cicadas in the trees—it all sounded muffled and distant, as if she were hearing it through a layer of water.
Her body went rigid. She didn't dare move. Then, she heard him whisper:
"Chester told us to get a little closer."
His words were a gust of warm air against her ear.
More flustering and heart-pounding than the sweltering summer heat itself.
'This heat is unreal!'
"Got it."
Chester Sawyer showed the photo to them.
"This one's pretty good. The lighting and angle are nice," Sydney Sawyer said, scrolling through the photos. She decided her little brother was actually useful for something.
