Summer Off Script

By Caroline Hopkins

Mila knows how her summer is supposed to go. Since her parents' Very Nasty Divorce, she's stayed out of the spotlight, focusing on school and never complaining. 

But whe

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stratton Luce Media
• Release date: Jul 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9781961878013

Book preview

SummerOffScript _COVER_ebook.png

This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

Summer Off Script. Copyright 2023 by Stratton Luce Media. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

For additional information about this book and other Stratton Luce Media books, please email [e-mail]

First Edition

ISBN 978-1-961878-00-6

To my parents, who have nurtured my love for telling stories for literally as long as I can remember, and who never stopped asking me so when are you going to publish a book?

And to John, whose unfailing encouragement and love of teen dramas made him an excellent editor

Chapter One

I hadn’t asked for the email, but here it was, sitting in my inbox like the gift on Christmas morning that you wished you could return.

I sighed and clicked Open.

Hi Mila! it started, followed by the waving hands emoji.

I hope you’re having an amazing start to summer! To be young and enjoying my high school days again, right??

Anyway, please come out for the summer! (More emojis.) It’s such a beautiful time of year out here in Montauk, and I’d love to get to know you better! It’s so tough that you’re always away at school - your dad misses you too!! And with the new baby, it would be such an amazing bonding experience for the two of you. I can’t wait for her to have the advice of her very own big sister!

Keep me posted! Love love love!!

At the bottom, she’d pasted a selfie of herself waving towards the camera, one hand on her hugely pregnant stomach.

Even over a computer screen, Ceci’s personality felt overwhelming. My mother would have said that it was because Ceci didn’t know another way to be the center of attention. It doesn’t surprise me that your father ended up with someone like that, she had sniffed as soon as he’d mailed us the copy of the wedding announcement, which he’d paid to have put in the New York Times.

But I had been surprised. If I had guessed the kind of person my dad would have ended up with, I would have guessed a twenty-something groupie, someone who was struck with the leftover star power from when my dad was actively acting in and producing films. Not movies, always films.

But instead, he’d ended up with Ceci. She was in her late thirties or early forties and owned a clothing boutique in Montauk, one of the places that did all of its business in the summer and only sold pastels. And three months after she and my dad had met at a bar there, she was pregnant.

My mother had sniffed about how little class it all showed, but there was a limit to what she could say. She’d gotten remarried the year before to a generic rich banker, also divorced.

I shut my computer off, standing up and walking out of the guest room in my mother and Dick’s apartment. They held it open for me every summer, but during the year, their friends stayed in it.

Down the hallway, I could hear raised adult voices. It’s just such a predictable script, I heard my mother say to Dick, probably complaining about whatever acting opportunity she’d gotten recently. I shut the door and headed up towards the roof.

The building had a roof deck where you could see the lights from the city, and I had spent more nights up here than in the apartment. It was quiet and peaceful, far enough away from the apartment that it felt like mine.

I leaned back and stared at the sky above me, the light pollution blocking any of the stars from sight. I should have been downstairs writing a college application.

Suddenly, the summer seemed to feel like it would choke me, the long days that were stretching ahead of me with muggy weather. I’d be trapped inside the apartment waiting for the heat to break.

I had always been jealous of my stepsister for having friends and a home elsewhere. She’d come in for a week over the summer, then leave this apartment and the forced quiet whenever she wanted.

But maybe that was an option for me, too. I opened my phone and scrolled back in my email, to where Ceci’s message was still waiting for me.

I’d love to come out this summer. Montauk sounds like a great place to spend the summer.

Ceci must have been up, because she immediately wrote me back. Yay! Oh I’m so excited. Your dad is so excited too! I’ll get your room ready – you’ll have an ocean view. I just redecorated too! Lots and lots of love!!!

And before I realized it, I had changed the course of my summer.

Are you sure that you don’t need help taking anything to the Jitney? Kinsey peered around my doorway, her hair in a high bun.

I had never quite known what to make of my stepsister. It was like knowing someone in a different grade in elementary school. You didn’t dislike each other. You just had no reason to be friends.

After the Very Nasty Divorce, my mother had decided to prove that I was doing better without my father making decisions about my future. She and Dick dished out close to six figures for me to attend Breverly, a boarding school that she could brag about to all her friends.

I knew I was lucky to be able to go there, but it was also awful. Everyone was aiming for the same three colleges, so everything was a competition. I couldn’t call anyone there a friend.

This felt like a situation where I should offer an olive branch, no matter how twig-like. Maybe you could help me decide what to take?

Take the white one. It’ll really highlight your tan. She glanced at my very pale skin from a year trapped inside, studying. The tan you’ll get in Montauk.

I smiled, trying to return her gesture. I hope I have time to make it to the beach. I should be studying and getting ready for classes in the fall.

She leaned against the doorframe. But that’s what the fall is for, isn’t it? You’re supposed to relax and rest up over the summer. You can’t work all the time. My mom always tells me I have to learn to relax

I guess. Unlike Kinsey, I knew that I had to be mature beyond my years. My parents hadn’t known what to do with me when I had started to become older. It’s fine, I could remember my mother assuring another cast member after they told a dirty joke. Mila is very mature for her age.

My childhood was made up of adults – adults on the movie sets, adults at cocktail parties, adults at viewing parties, adults everywhere. I was the child who was brought as another thing that my parents had created in their artistic inspiration. Like a gallery piece, to be seen and not heard.

Well, at least you’ll be able to get out some. I’m jealous. I love the beach, Kinsey said, twisting a hair tie around her wrist. You’re going to have one of those movie summers.

Movie summers? I asked, folding a bikini and tucking it into the front pocket of my suitcase. I had enough movies in my life that I didn’t need a summer of one.

One of those summers where you know it’s fleeting, but at the same time, you know that what you’re doing is going to change who you are. Where when you look back, all you wish for is that you had better background music, Kinsey replied, spreading her arms across the doorway.

I wasn’t sure that I had ever had, or thought about, one of those summers, so I just nodded, glancing over at the clock on my nightstand. I should probably get going. Can I take you up on that offer to help?

Kinsey and I walked into the main kitchen, where my mother was perched on a kitchen stool. Leaving already? she asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

I want to get a full day out there and have some time to settle in, I said, looking over towards the coffeemaker. The only way to survive Breverly was to drink coffee, and I’d gotten used to the routine of it.

Are you that desperate to meet the new wife? she asked, lifting the coffee cup from the counter and taking a tiny, graceful sip.

I had thought that my mother wouldn’t have cared one way or the other. She had Dick now, who was more exciting than I was. He had boatloads of money and invitations to all of the gala events. I was just the boring understudy who stayed quiet and listened. There was no reason that this summer should have been any different.

But I had clearly forgotten that that was the case only when my father was not involved. As many times as my mother had told her friends and admirers that she clearly had the better end of the deal – Douglas remarried someone who runs a clothing store in Montauk, can you imagine? I’d heard her simpering to one of her many tennis friends – I had heard enough of their fights over the years to know that that was not true.

No, I said. There wasn’t enough for me here to get away from anything. If I stayed for the summer, my life would be the same as it had been for the summers before. I would sit in my air conditioned room, waiting for the heat to break. It would be the same script as every summer before.

I certainly hope that you know what you’re getting yourself into, my mother replied, placing her cup gently down on the countertop. She’d warned me a hundred times that placing a cup too forcefully on the countertop would crack it. Like so many things in this house, I handled all the cups with a light touch. Your father has no interest in children, so I can’t imagine why he’s gone and gotten himself another family.

I closed my eyes for a second, wishing that I was holding a cup of coffee, just to have something to do with my hands. Maybe he’s changed, I offered.

My mother sighed, taking another sip of her coffee. People don’t change, Mila. What you see is what you get, and believing anything else is naivete.

Ready? Kinsey asked, walking out from her room. She’d put on comfortable running shoes, ready to haul luggage. Don’t want you to get stuck with the worst seat on the Jitney.

Goodbye, girls, my mother said as we walked towards the door, and I realized that she didn’t know if Kinsey was coming. For some reason, that filled me with more melancholy than my own leaving did.

A thick layer of heat had already settled over the city as we walked out of the building lobby. The doorman waved to us cheerfully as we walked by. Have a fun trip, you two! he called, and Kinsey waved back with her free hand.

There were already people climbing onto the bus when we got there, and Kinsey paused in the street, setting the suitcase she was carrying down next to me. So, she said as I neared the front of the line, I would say see you around, but I guess I don’t know when I’ll be seeing you around.

Yeah. For some reason, this statement struck me more than anything. It was the pain of knowing that the brief moment that had connected us was gone. Everything that Kinsey and I could have been, confidants and best friends, had been reduced to thirty seconds in the Jitney line. Maybe you could come visit.

She laughed, tossing her ponytail back. Maybe. I’m going to miss my beach time while I’m stuck in that apartment.

Ready? the conductor asked me. As the person in front of me climbed on, I turned back towards Kinsey, giving her a quick hug before I boarded the bus. I took my seat in the middle of the bus and watched out the window as she stood there, waving as the bus drove slowly away.

It turned out that taking the first bus trip of the morning had done nothing to reduce the amount of traffic. The bus hadn’t moved in the past half hour, and the people around me were starting to murmur. I turned over another page in my physics textbook for the fall, which I’d brought with me. I’d thought it’d be a good idea to get a head start on the reading, but I couldn’t get myself to focus.

Maybe Kinsey was right. There was no point in forcing myself to prepare, when the fall was waiting for me no matter what.

Final stop, the driver called. Around me, people started to stand up, reaching for their bags. The bus came to a stuttering halt in front of a roadside motel, a bunch of Jeeps parked in the dirt in front.

I got up from my seat and walked to the front of the bus, grabbing my rolling suitcase from the luggage compartment. Have a good vacation, the bus driver told me as he walked back into the bus.

Well, it probably wouldn’t be vacation, and it probably wouldn’t be good, either. As the bus pulled away, I reached for my phone and typed in my dad’s address. I texted him again to let him know I was here, but still no response.

It looked like the house was only a mile away anyway, so I might as well walk. I should have expected that. I could smell the ocean, mixing with the dust from the road that the bus had kicked up.

I started to pull my suitcase along the side of the road, already starting to feel the sweat building on my back. Whoever said that the ocean breeze was cooling was lying.

I checked my phone again. No reply still. As much as I knew that it wasn’t going to happen, I still held out a sliver of hope that a car would pass and my dad would lean out the window, asking why I was walking in the heat.

Hey, beautiful! a boy called from a car driving by, and I closed my eyes for a second, pulling my bags harder. I could hear the car pull up next to me, and I didn’t look up, not wanting to engage more than I had to. Where are you going?

I ignored him, and after a few seconds, the car drove away. I saw the fork in the road up ahead and pulled my bags to the left, leaving the main road. Now I could hear the waves in the distance, a hum of background noise letting me know exactly where I was.

You have reached your destination, my phone said, and I looked over to see the house. I should have been able to tell that it was the right house without the address. The house screamed Ceci – white picket fence, manicured garden with pink flowers, a flag sticking off the porch with a sailboat reading Welcome. In the driveway, there was a baby blue SUV and a red convertible.

I took a deep breath and stared at the house again. The worst that could happen was that I would spend the next six weeks having to deal with Ceci in her full Ceci-ness. She’d insist on getting matching manicures and going shopping and taking pictures of everything for her Instagram account.

This is what you wanted, I chanted to myself as I pulled my suitcase down the driveway, the wheels squeaking from the grit I had picked up on the road. It was this or spending the summer in Dick’s apartment.

And this was my chance to get to know my dad more. The Very Nasty Divorce had happened when I was in middle school, and my parents had sent me away to boarding school when it had become clear that it was progressing from a Nasty Divorce to a Very Nasty Divorce. A year later, my mother and Dick were married, and I was left at Breverly.

I hadn’t spent any real time with my dad since, only trading occasional emails. Maybe there was a chance for us to rediscover each other this summer.

I knocked on the door, not seeing a doorbell. There was no answer. I reached for my phone to double check the address, and this was the house.

I pushed the door open, pulling my suitcase over the threshold. Hello? I called down the dark hallway. Dad? Ceci?

I will murder you, Douglas, came a female voice from a room nearby. I left my suitcase standing, heading around the corner. She just took her bottle and stopped crying and went to sleep, and I swear to God –

Ceci? I asked.

It had to be Ceci, but I didn’t recognize her at first. In the photos, Ceci always looked perfectly dressed, hair in beachy waves, grinning with overly white teeth. But now she was wearing a t-shirt from a 5k ten years ago, her hair in a sloppy bun.

Her eyes flew open, and she stared at me, her pupils widening. Mila! Oh god. I totally forgot you were coming. I’m so sorry. Did you walk all the way here from the bus? I know that I should have come out and gotten you, but it’s just, Lissy just fell asleep, and I have been all over the place today.

So many words already. That’s okay, I said finally, looking around the room. It would have been a beautiful room if the lights were on, with vaulted ceilings and exposed beams. So this is –

Lysandra Antigone Montegue, Ceci said, pointing towards a bassinet where a tiny wrinkly baby was sleeping.

Uh, wow, I said, staring at the tiny baby and trying to reconcile the name with the tiny child. It was a mouthful for something so small.

We call her Lissy. Ceci paused. Well, I do. Your father thinks that it’s offensive to her to not use her full given name when he picked it to show that she will be a powerful queen one day, but it’s just a lot of name to say.

It was not only a lot of name, but potentially the most pretentious name that I had ever heard. And I went to a boarding school with an equestrian team. Ceci seemed to notice the silence and immediately had to fill it. Well, I’m so happy that you’re going to be here for the summer. I think it’ll be great for Lissy to get to know her big sister. She reached up, trying to pull a few wisps of hair back into her bun. Normally I’d be at work right now, but Sadie was covering for me since it was your first day here, and I just forgot.

As normal, Ceci gave ten times the number of details necessary. That’s okay, I said, deciding to extend an olive branch. It was a nice walk.

It’s not hot out yet, right? she asked, now redoing her bun. I’m sorry. I should have checked the weather and made sure it was okay.

It sucked, but talking about it wouldn’t make a difference now. It was fine. It wasn’t far.

Just then, I heard the door slam, and Lissy opened her eyes and started to cry. Goddamn it, Ceci hissed.

I have coffee! You forgot to put in a replacement order for my favorite one, so I went out and got some. My dad’s voice boomed through the hallway. Lissy wailed even more loudly, her crying bouncing off the echoey walls. I brought an extra for Mila. I’ll put it in the fridge for when she gets here. Thoughtful, right? Even if it’s not the artisanal roast she probably likes.

I wasn’t sure what an artisanal coffee roast was, but of course my dad would. Hi, Dad, I said finally as he turned the corner into the living room.

Douglas Montegue had cornered the market in aging movie star looks. His hair was perfectly styled with an artistic sprinkling of gray, so artistic that it had to be dyed. He was wearing chinos and a blazer, still looking like the heartbreaker that he had played in the movies. Sorry, in the films.

He stopped at the entrance to the living room, staring directly at me. Mila! he said, reaching out towards me. You arrived. Like my mother, he pronounced my name My-la, not the Mee-la that Ceci used.

Yeah, I got in this morning, I said. I texted you.

Really? he asked, raising an eyebrow. I must have missed it. Good thing we raised you to be so resourceful.

I reminded you yesterday, Ceci interjected. She was standing up now, bouncing a still wailing Lissy in her arms. And there is a note on the calendar on the fridge.

My father ignored her, taking one of the iced coffees out of the carrier and passing it to me. He put the carrier with the last coffee down in front of the couch, where Ceci sent it a nasty look. I thought you were going to pick her up, Ceci, he said, looking not at her but at his coffee. You know that I’m busy.

Right, Ceci said, looking down at where the extra coffees were dripping condensation onto the coffee table.

I think Lysandra is probably hungry, my father said, gesturing