“North Carolina,” she answers. “A little tiny town in the middle of North Carolina, full of hicks and rednecks and churches. Or soldiers. Sometimes soldiers. Fort Bragg was half an hour down the road.” She combs her fingers through the red hair, sorting out tiny tangles. “I could have gone to Duke, I suppose, but I wanted to get away from all that. Away from all the expectations, you know?”
Summer looks out at the lane, gaze a little distant. “I wanted to figure out who I was, and it’s really hard to do that under all that pressure.”
“I guess I can understand that.” Stiles says quietly, considering Summer’s words as she explains. His fingers rub against each other, a nervous gesture meant to keep the rest of him from twitching around too much. “I dunno if I want to go somewhere to figure out who I am. If that makes sense? Most of the things I’d want to be anything for are here. So if I can’t figure it out here…maybe I won’t anywhere.”
“I want to figure it out for /me/,” Summer corrects. “Just me. I want to — to find a way to not need anyone else. To be okay with being alone in a crowd. I need to … there are things I did in high school that I did for really stupid reasons. Maybe if I figure out who I am, who I want to be, I won’t make that kind of mistake again.” She gets up, picking up the ball, and manages to bowl a perfect strike, exchanging high fives with the other two girls.