Another Summer, in Another Year

"Congratulations on getting accepted to college, Pierce."

"Thank you, Miss. But it's not a big deal. I still have a long way to go."

His eyes, Essex noted, amused, betrayed the humbleness and the softness of his voice. They sparkled and glittered like a child getting the present he had always wanted. Under the festival lights, they seemed even brighter than they already were. Yet he had matured even more, and it was unmistakable, though not to the point of making him unrecognizable.

So was the festival around them. The same place had grown more vibrant and lively.

It would seem that she had grown, too.

Enterprise still outdid her in pretty much everything, but now it was more inspiring than frustrating, and she was catching up. Little by little, or by leaps and bounds—that didn't matter.

And this time, she was the one inviting him.

Enterprise raised a brow at that, but at least she didn't pry. Her sisters did, but not too much, and the worst she had to endure was Ticonderoga giggling like she was watching the climax of a soap opera.

She didn't understand what all the fuss was about, anyway.

"Still, you fought hard to get that recommendation letter from the higher-ups. And they don't give one so easily. And for that, I'm proud of you."

She felt like a mom saying that. Of course, she also had a hand in getting him that recommendation, but he didn't need to know.

"Thank you. Really," he grinned, his cheeks redder than the lanterns, and she was tempted to say, "No problem, son."

"So, where are you studying? USNA?"

"N-no. That's...uh, too intense. I'll be going to Cal Maritime. Closer to Oakland, too."

"Oakland?"

"My hometown, Miss."

"Oh."

Every little bit of knowing was always a pleasant surprise, and she couldn't even explain why.

And just like before, the more she knew, the more she wanted to know.

"Hmm. So, what will you be majoring in?"

And he would always be so eager to tell.

"Oh, well, I'll be taking Mechanical Engineering and minoring in Oceanography. After that, the Officer Candidate School."

No shred of doubt was there. He had to be, of course. Otherwise, nobody would even think of giving that opportunity. The brass would've known better than to waste their time on a quitter.

"That'll be tough, but I'll be rooting for you, Pierce."

That thumbs-up didn't come out as she intended, faltering and lame, just like the one middle-aged people would give when they try to be hip with the kids.

She felt silly, but he smiled nonetheless and sincerely, too. If he thought the same, he certainly was polite enough not to show.

"Thank you, Miss Essex. That means a lot. I'll do my best."

"And that person you look up to will be proud, too, I bet."

"...Heh, yeah. I believe she will."

He was rightfully bashful about it. It was somewhat amusing, but she didn't laugh.

"That's good."

She ignored the pang somewhere within.

Pierce was still scratching his cheek, his eyes wandering but not looking, and the dazzling gleam that fell on them made the whole thing more jarring.

But one look at her, and he was smiling again like nothing was amiss.

"...Do you want to grab a bite, Miss? It's on me."

"Hm? No, I'm good. But thanks anyway. And besides, I'm the one who invited you. It should be the other way around. So, anything got your fancy, kid?"

He was definitely overreacting over the offer, and he didn't look like he was 22 anymore.

"Come on. Anything for my oh-so-very helpful aide," she felt like being a little bit more playful if he was going to act like a teenager, and she stepped forward, moving closer. He was taller, but she felt like she was towering over him now. Last year, he was so confident, but now the pace was hers to set.

"Well...uh...it's not like I want anything right now, so, I guess...let's walk around some more? Maybe...."

He paused, brows scrunching and eyes squinting, his hand moving to the bulge in his front pocket but then retreating.

An exhale, then an answer.

"...Maybe I'll find out."

"If you say so, Essex shrugged and began walking. She quickly realized it and looked back, and just like she thought, he wasn't moving.

"Coming or not?"

"Right...yeah, I'm coming."

Essex could've sworn it wasn't quite the only thing he wanted to say.

***

She didn't try the shooting stall again, much to the owner's relief, but he did. He wasn't exactly a crack shot, but he did win something. Not the big ones, but a prize nonetheless.

"What am I supposed to do with this?" He brought the tiny doll, which she had to admit was cute despite not knowing what it was supposed to be, before his face. He eyed it from all sides, like an abstract painting he tried to decipher.

The question felt nostalgic, and so did her answer.

"Give it to someone? A family, a friend, or, I don't know, that person you look up to?"

"...I'll think about it," he pocketed the doll, and with a nudge, they were on their way again.

This time, he convinced her to try the merry-go-round, though she didn't make it easy, and he ended up coming along like he had been told.

As she found out, the horses were really sturdy, and adults could ride them without problem. Still, riding with children around them was a little awkward, and the fact that he wasn't bothered didn't help.

By the end, she still didn't understand the appeal of it, but he seemed glad, so whatever, she guessed.

The other things were worth the laughs. She laughed plenty, even if they were not always hearty, and he followed like an icing on the cake.

He finally caved in when she offered food again, but it was only a modest serving of corn dog. But that didn't matter because a promise fulfilled was a promise fulfilled, even if the recipient was coy about it.

What was left after that was the towering Ferris wheel. It felt nostalgic to see the same structure again, even if it now sported a brighter, shinier, and fresh coat of paint. The person manning the booth was still the same. The line, less so.

"Come on, we're going for a spin."

She couldn't blame him for looking skeptical. After all, last year, she was almost a wreck at the top. But she would like to think it'd be different now.

"Uh, yes."

"Then what are you waiting for?"

It was all it took for him to follow without question.

The ascent was slow and only a little bumpy. But all this time, she had her hands only on her lap. No clutching, no squeezing.

"Pierce, don't think I will be scared like last time."

"Wouldn't dare, Miss. I know you won't."

"Good boy," Essex tried leaning on the seat. As expected, it was hard and not very comfortable, as if to force you to look out and enjoy the view. She got the hint and soon peered outside.

The people, the booths, the streetlights, everything else—they were getting smaller. The breeze was stronger up there, the noise duller.

It was a different world, again.

"Still a great view, huh?" She heard him murmuring from across, his nose nearly pressing against the window. He wasn't nervous, and that was good.

"A little bit different, but yeah."

"Enjoy it while it lasts, Pierce."

Enjoy it while it lasts, Essex, she reminded herself, too. There wouldn't be next time.

She didn't expect the sigh that escaped but wasn't surprised he was quick to notice.

"Something the matter?"

"...No...nothing."

He didn't press on, but it didn't bring the relief she thought it would.

She was being unfair, and that was the problem.

"Well, maybe...yes," she leaned on the window, her breathing fogging the glass. "Pierce, why do you suddenly want to be an officer?"

She wanted to know, and she wouldn't deny that anymore. She wouldn't deny that this day would be the first of their last anymore, either. It had been painfully clear, and yet, the only thing stopping her was—

What was it? The reason she failed to acknowledge that?

He was rightfully taken aback, but the answer couldn't be more swift. Swift and sure, no beating around the bush.

"I want to go after someone."

Essex almost regretted asking. The answer, simple as it was, wasn't the stop she was looking for. It was an open door that she couldn't ignore. And for him to open it...

Could it be?

"Not for...money?"

"No."

"And not for prestige, glory, fame, whatever?"

"No."

"So, for a person."

"Yes."

Does she deserve to know?

The wheel came to a stop, just like the world below seemingly had.

"I'm doing this because I want a chance. To stand by their side as...equals, as comrades. Repay them for being inspiring, amazing, and strong. That's all I wanted."

The feeling of not knowing, not having, was the worst she could think of.

She should be supporting. She really would.

Yet...

Something felt too far away.

Something she had no idea of.

The door was still open.

She still wasn't venturing deeper.

Still at the threshold, the unknown tantalizing yet dreadful.

"Miss...why are you asking this? Is something wrong? I'm not doing something wrong, am I?"

He wasn't worried for himself. His eyes didn't betray anything but concern for her.

How could he?

"No, Pierce. You haven't."

He really didn't. The fault lay with her and her alone.

The wheel moved, and the world turned once more.

"Sorry. I'm...just being weird. It's just...Pierce, don't get hurt, okay?"

She could at least say that much. She could at least figure that much.

"Hm? No, I don't think I would. Engineering is—"

"No, Pierce. It's not about your studies."

"Then..."

"Don't let...yourself...be hurt. By anyone."

Would he know? Understand? He looked as if he was searching, gaze sometimes wandering beyond the window.

To what, to whom—she couldn't even begin to guess. But then he was looking at her again, and she wished he could.

"Thank you, Miss. You've always looked after me, even today."

It was warmer, and she momentarily forgot.

"But can I ask the same of you? Don't let anyone or anything else hurt you. Sorry, I know you're strong, and—"

This time, her fingers did clench the bench. She could still remember the events from last summer.

But that was then.

It wouldn't be right to tie him down.

It wouldn't be right not to set him free.

Heavy as her heart was, she realized.

"I...will, Pierce."

She spoke and braced for the pain, the ache.

But the smile, the same and yet not entirely, against the twinkling lights and the dark blue sky, eased the throb.

Just enough for her to endure.

To reciprocate.

To promise.

"I will, Pierce."

***

The descent was quicker, and by the time their feet touched the ground, the skies were already alight with fireworks. One flower blooming after another, fading to nothing but leaving memories behind.

He was watching, fixating on the spectacle. Who wouldn't? It was as if everyone had forgotten to remember their troubles, which was probably the entire point of it all.

But then their eyes met, and they were no longer looking.

"You know, before I got swept up in all of this and forgot it...thank you, Miss. For...everything. And this. I...this might be the last time—"

Don't, she wanted to cry out. Don't make her remember.

"—for now."

What?

He inched away, then some more, a hand stumbling as it reached for his pocket, taking out a cigarette. A habit she knew too well. A flick of a lighter and a puff later, he was speaking again, his voice clearer than the crackle and boom from above.

"This isn't goodbye, Miss."

"Then...what about that person?"

Not reminding him of them would be selfish. She wouldn't dare.

"That depends on this," he reached out for another pocket, and soon, the doll from before was back in his hand.

"Here, for you."

Essex almost missed it amidst the cacophony of colors. Almost.

She was staring, blinking, trying to make sense of what just happened.

"Why?"

"Just following your advice."

"But...I'm..."

He chuckled, and the amused disbelief was unmistakable, like the thumping in her chest.

"People were right about you. You really are dense sometimes. Sorry."

"What?!"

"Well, not that I'm much better myself. I meant, even after finally deciding on it, I still had to take this," he took another drag. "But at least I did it."

What was her advice again? Give it to someone, right?

To a family, a friend.

The person he looks up to.

Oh.

It nearly fell from her shaking grip.

"You can't mean—"

"I'm such a coward, am I? Yeah. I know."

The wind blew, the smoke swirled, the scent wafted.

And Essex knew.

She was in deep.

Too deep.

She had been pulled into that door.

How would she turn back now?

"I...don't know how you will...see me after this. Sorry. Really, forgive me. But as you said, I'm not going to let whatever it is hurt. Not even a lost chance."

She didn't know either.

Not yet.

It was only a matter of wanting to know or not.

And wasn't that what she had been agonizing over the whole time?

So here she had just been faced with a truth.

Pierce had crossed the threshold, and now he was standing on the other side. Waiting.

He has moved forward and will go further, no matter what.

And Essex, as she remembered herself, was never one to suffer being left behind gladly. Enterprise could attest to that. Her sisters would, too.

"Pierce, you better not regret this. You've known me for years, and you have seen the worst of me."

He wouldn't, but she wanted to say it anyway.

"And the best, Miss."

That was quite unexpected. A bit disarming, too. But she couldn't be too surprised. He was, and would always be, honest. And she couldn't be too...what's the word again? Giddy? She was far from done.

"And it's not going to be easy."

"Beg your pardon, Miss; I think it would be easier than having to go through your air raid drills."

"...What the—I'm lowering my guard a bit, and now you're being all cheeky?"

"Sorry, Ma'am! I got carried away. Won't happen again!"

"I'm joking, Pierce."

"I know. So am I."

She didn't know if she wanted to laugh or cry, and a sniffle did escape her.

"Fine, then. If you are...set on this, then come find me again. I...would have thought it over. And you should, too."

"Yes, I will."

"And, Pierce."

"Yes?"

"I will wait. Make it worth my while, will you?"

The last of the fireworks exploded and faded into the night.

He put the cigarette away with a surest smile.

"Will do."