ANewYorkTimes,USAToday,andWallStreetJournalbestsellingauthor,ELLEKENNEDYgrewupinthesuburbsofToronto,Ontario,andistheauthorofmorethanfortyromanticsuspenseandcontemporaryromancenovels,includingtheinternationalbestsellingOff-CampusandBriarUseriesALSOBYELLEKENNEDY
GoodGirlComplexCopyright
PublishedbyPiatkus
ISBN:978-0-349-42885-7
Allcharactersandeventsinthispublication,otherthanthoseclearlyinthepublicdomain,arefictitiousandanyresemblancetorealpersons,livingordead,ispurelycoincidental.
Copyright?2022byElleKennedy
Themoralrightoftheauthorhasbeenasserted.
Allrightsreserved.Nopartofthispublicationmaybereproduced,storedinaretrievalsystem,ortransmitted,inanyformorbyanymeans,withoutthepriorpermissioninwritingofthepublisher.
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www.hachette.co.ukContents
AbouttheAuthor
AlsobyElleKennedy
Copyright
Chapter1:Genevieve
Chapter2:Genevieve
Chapter3:Evan
Chapter4:Genevieve
Chapter5:Evan
Chapter6:Genevieve
Chapter7:Genevieve
Chapter8:Evan
Chapter9:Genevieve
Chapter10:Evan
Chapter11:Genevieve
Chapter12:Evan
Chapter13:Genevieve
Chapter14:Genevieve
Chapter15:Evan
Chapter16:Evan
Chapter17:Evan
Chapter18:Genevieve
Chapter19:Evan
Chapter20:Genevieve
Chapter21:Evan
Chapter22:Genevieve
Chapter23:Evan
Chapter24:Genevieve
Chapter25:Evan
Chapter26:Evan
Chapter27:Genevieve
Chapter28:Genevieve
Chapter29:Evan
Chapter30:Genevieve
Chapter31:Evan
Epilogue:Genevieve
AcknowledgmentsCHAPTER1
GENEVIEVE
Everyoneevenvaguelyrelatedtomeisinthishouse.Dressedinblackandhuddledtogetherinawkwardconversationaroundcheeseplatesandcasseroledishes.Mybabypicturesonthewall.Infitsandstarts,someoneclinksaforkagainstabottleofGuinnessoraglassofJamesontoraiseatoastandtellaninappropriatestoryabouthowMomoncerodeaJetSkitoplessthroughtheIndependenceDayboatparade.Whilemydadlooksuncomfortableandstaresoutthewindow,Isitwithmybrothersandpretendwe’refamiliarwiththeseoldstoriesaboutourmother,thefun-loving,life-by-the-balls-grabbingLaurieChristineWest…wheninrealityweneverknewheratall.
“Sowewerehot-boxingittoFloridainthebackofanoldice-creamtruck,”startsCary,oneofmymother’scousins.“AndsomewheresouthofSavannah,wehearthisnoise,likearustlingaround,comingfromtheback…”
Iclingtoabottleofwater,fearingwhatI’lldowithoutsomethinginmyhands.Ipickedahellofatimetogetsober.EveryoneI’verunintoistryingtoshoveadrinkinmyhandbecausetheydon’tknowwhatelsetosaytothepoormotherlessgirl.
I’veconsideredit.Slidinguptomyoldbedroomwithabottleofanythingandknockingitbackuntilthisdayends.ExceptI’mstillregrettingthelasttimeIslipped.
Butitwouldcertainlymakethisentireordealslightlymoretolerable.
Great-auntMillyisdoingcirclesaroundthehouselikeagoldfishinabowl.Everypass,shestopsatthesofatopatmyarmandweaklysqueezemywristandtellmeIlookjustlikemymother
Great.
“Someone’sgottastopher,”myyoungerbrotherBillywhispersbesideme.“She’sgoingtocollapse.Thoseskinnylittleankles.”
She’ssweet,butshe’sstartingtocreepmeout.Ifshecallsmebymymom’sname,Imightlosemyshit.
“ItellLouistoturndowntheradio,”CousinCarycontinues,gettingexcitedabouthisstory.“BecauseI’mtryingtofigureoutexactlywherethenoiseiscomingfrom.Thoughtwemightbedraggingsomething.”
Momhadbeensickformonthsbeforeshewasdiagnosedwithpancreaticcancer.AccordingtoDad,she’ddealtwithaconstantpaininherbackandabdomenthatshe’dignoredastheachesofgettingolder—andthenamonthlatershewasdead.Buttome,thisallstartedonlyaweekago.AcallinthemiddleoftheafternoonfrommybrotherJayurgingmetocomehome,followedbyanotherfrommydadsayingMomwasn’tgoingtobearoundmuchlonger.
They’dallkeptmeinthedark.Becauseshehadn’twantedmetoknow.
Howmessedupisthat?
“I’mtalkingabout,formiles,thisknockingaroundinthere.Now,we’reallprettybaked,okay?Yougottaunderstand.Ranintothisold-timerhippiefreakbackinMyrtleBeachwhohookedusupwithsomekush—”
Someonecoughs,grumblesundertheirbreath.
“Let’snotborethemwiththedetails,”CousinEddiesays.Knowingglancesandconspiratorialsmirkstravelamongthecousins.
“Anyway.”Carystartsupagain,hushingthem.“Sowehearthis,whateveritis.Tony’sdriving,andyourmom,”hesays,gesturinghisglassatuskids,“isstandinginfrontofthefreezerwithabongoverherheadlikeshe’sabouttobeataraccoontodeathorsomething.”
Mymindisfar,farawayfromthisridiculousanecdote,jumbledandtwistedwiththoughtsofmymother.Shespentweekslyinginbed,preparingtodie.Herlastwishwasforheronlydaughtertofindoutshewassickatthelastpossiblemoment.Evenmybrotherswereforbiddenfrombeingatherbedsideintheslow,agonizingslipintoherfinaldays.Mompreferring,asalways,tosufferinsilencewhilekeepingherchildrenatadistance.Onthesurfaceitmightseemshediditforthebenefitofherkids,butIsuspectitwasforherownsake—shewantedtoavoidallthoseemotional,intimatemomentsthatherimpendingdeathwouldnodoubttrigger,thesamewaysheavoidedthosemomentsinlife.
Intheend,shewasrelievedtohaveanexcusenottoactlikeourmother.
“Noneofuswanttoopenthefreezer,andsomeone’sshoutingatTonytopullover,buthe’sfreakingoutbecauseheseesacopafewcarsbehindusand,ohyeah,itoccurstouswe’recarryingcontrabandacrossstatelines,so…”
AndIcanforgiveher.Untilherlastbreath,shewasherself.Neverpretendingtobeanythingelse.Sincewewerekids,she’dmadeitclearshewasn’tparticularlyinterestedinus,soweneverexpectedmuch.Mydadandbrothers,though—theyshouldhavetoldmeaboutherillness.Howdoyoukeepsomethinglikethatfromyourchild,yoursister?EvenifIwaslivingahundredmilesaway.Theyshouldhavetoldme,damnit.TheremighthavebeenthingsIwantedtosaytoher.IfI’dhadthetimetothinkaboutitmore.
“Finally,Laurietellsme,you’regonnaflipopenthelidandwe’regonnathrowopenthesidedoorandTonyisgonnaslowdownenoughtokickwhateveritisoutontotheshoulderoftheroad.”
Chucklesbreakoutfromthecrowd.
“Sowecounttothree,Iclosemyeyes,andIthrowopenthelid,expectingfurandclawstoleapformyface.Instead,weseesomedudeinthereasleep.Hewanderedinwhoknowswhen.SomewherebackinMyrtleBeach,maybe.Justcurledupandtookanap.”
Thisisn’thowIpicturedcomingbacktoAvalonBay.ThehouseIgrewupincrowdedwithmourners.Flowerarrangementsandsympathycardsoneverytable.Weleftthefuneralhoursago,butIguessthesethingsfollowyou.Fordays.Weeks.Neverknowingwhenit’sacceptabletosay,okay,enough,gobacktoyourlivesandletmegobacktomine.Howdoyoueventhrowoutathree-footflowerheart?
AsCary’sstorywindsdown,mydadtapsmeontheshoulderandnodstowardthehallway,pullingmeaside.He’swearingasuitformaybethethirdtimeinhislife,andIcan’tgetusedtoit.It’sjustanotherthingthat’soutofsorts.CominghometoaplaceIdon’tquiterecognize,asifwakingupinanalternaterealitywhereeverythingisfamiliarbutnot.Justalittleoff-center.IguessI’vechangedtoo.
“Wantedtograbyouforaminute,”hesaysasweduckawayfromthesomberfestivities.Hecan’tkeephishandsoffhistieorfromtuggingatthecollarofhisshirt.Looseningit,thenseeminglytalkinghimselfintostraighteningandtighteningitagain,likehefeelsguiltyaboutit.“Look,Iknowthereisn’tagreattimetobringthisup,soIjustgottoask.”
“What’sgoingon?”
“Well,Iwantedtoseeifyoumightbeplanningtostickaroundforawhile.”
Shit.
“Idon’tknow,Dad.Ihadn’tgivenitmuchthought.”Ididn’texpecttogetcorneredsosoon.FiguredI’dhavetime,maybeacoupledays,toseehowthingswentanddecidethen.IleftAvalonBayayearagoforareasonandwouldhavepreferredtostaygoneifnotforthecircumstances.IhavealifebackinCharleston.Ajob,anapartment.Amazondeliveriespilingupatmydoor
“See,Iwashopingyoucouldhelpwiththebusiness.Yourmommanagedalltheofficestuff,andthingshavekindofgonetohellonthatsince…”Hestopshimself.Noneofusknowhowtotalkaboutit—her.Itfeelswrongnomatterfromwhichanglewetrytoapproachit.Sowetrailoffintosilenceandnodateachothertosay,yeah,Idon’tknoweither,butIunderstand.“Ithought,ifyouweren’tintoomuchofarush,youwouldn’tmindjumpinginthereandmakingsenseofitall.”
Iexpectedhemightbedepressedforawhileandneedsometimetohimselftocope,togethisheadarounditall.Mayberunoffandgofishingorsomething.Butthisis…alottoask.
“WhataboutKellan,orShane?EitheroneofthemhavegottoknowmoreaboutrunningthatplacethanIdo.Doesn’tseemlikethey’dwantmestridingintherejumpingtheline.”
MytwooldestbrothershavebeenworkingforDadforyears.Inadditiontoasmallhardwarestore,healsoownsastonebusinessthatcaterstolandscapersandpeopleembarkingonhomerenovations.SinceIwasakid,mymommanagedtheinsidestuff—orders,invoices,payroll—soDadcouldworryaboutthedirtyworkoutside.
“Kellan’sthebestforemanI’vegot,andwithallthesehurricanerebuildswe’redoingdownonthesouthcoast,Ican’taffordtotakehimoffthejobsites.AndShanespentthelastyeardrivingaroundonanexpiredlicensebecausetheboyneveropenshisdamnmail.I’dbebankruptinamonthifIlethimanywherenearthebooks.”
He’snotwrong.Imean,Ilovemybrothers,buttheonetimeourparentshadShanebabysitus,heletJayandBillyclimbontotheroofwithaboxofcherrybombs.Thefiredepartmentshowedupafterthethreeboysstartedlaunchingbombswithaslingshotattheneighbor’steenagesonsintheirpool.Growingupwithtwoyoungerbrothersandthreeolderoneswasentertaining,tosaytheleast.
Still,I’mnotgettingropedintobeingapermanentreplacementforMom.
Ibitemylip.“Howlongareyouthinking?”
“Amonth,maybetwo?”
Fuck.
Ithinkitoverforamoment,thensigh.“Ononecondition,”Itellhim.“Youhavetostartlookingtohireanewofficemanagerinthenextfewweeks.I’llstickarounduntilyoufindtherightfit,butthisisn’tgoingtobecomealong-termarrangement.Deal?”
Dadwrapsanarmaroundmyshoulderandkissesthesideofmyhead.“Thanks,kiddo.You’rereallyhelpingmeoutofajam.”
Ican’teversaynotohim,evenwhenIknowI’mgettinghosed.RonanWestmightcomeoffasahard-ass,buthe’salwaysbeenagoodfather.Gaveusenoughfreedomtogetintroublebutwasalwaystheretobailusout.Evenwhenhewaspissedatus,weknewhecared
“Grabyourbrothers,willya?Wegottatalkaboutacouplethings.”
Hesendsmeoffwithforebodingandapatontheback.Pastexperiencehastaughtmethatfamilymeetingsareneverapositiveaffair.Familymeetingsmeanmoreupheaval.Whichisterrifying,becausewasn’tgettingmetouprootmylifetotemporarilymovebackhomealreadythebigask?I’mrunningthroughthingsinmyheadlikebreakingmyleaseorgettingasubletter,quittingmyjoborpleadingforasabbatical,andmydad’sstillgotmoreonthedocket?
“Hey,shithead.”Jay,who’ssittingonthearmofthesofainthelivingroom,kicksmyshinasIwalkup.“Grabmeanotherbeer.”
“Getityourself,buttsniffer.”
He’salreadyditchedhisjacketandtie,hiswhitedressshirtunbuttonedatthetopandsleevesrolledup.Theothersaren’tmuchbetter,alloftheminvariousstatesofgivinguponthewholesuitthingsincegettingbackfromthecemetery.
“DidyouseeMissGrace?Frommiddleschool?”Billy,who’sstillnotoldenoughtodrink,triestooffermeaflask,butIwaveitoff.Jaysnatchesitinstead.“SheshowedupaminuteagowithCoreyDoucettecarryingherstupidlittlepursedog.”
“MoustacheDoucette?”Igrinatthememory.Infreshmanyear,Coreygrewthiscreepyserialkillerstripofhaironhislipandjustrefusedtoshavethenastythinguntilitescalatedtothethreatofsuspensionifhedidn’tgetridofit.Hewasscaringtheteachers.“MissGracehasgottobe,what,seventy?”
“IthinkshewasseventywhenIhadherclassineighthgrade,”Shanesays,shiveringtohimself.
“Sothey’re,like,screwing?”Craig’sfacecontortsinhorror.Hiswasthelastclassshetaughtbeforeretiring.Myyoungestbrotherisnowahighschoolgraduate.“That’ssomessedup.”
“Comeon,”Itellthem.“Dadwantstotalktousintheden.”
Onceassembled,DadstartsinagainonhistieandshirtcollaruntilJayhandshimtheflaskandhetakesarelievedswig.“SoI’mjustgonnacomeoutwithit:I’mputtingthehouseupforsale.”
“Whatthehell?”Kellan,theeldest,speaksforallofuswhenhisoutburststuntsDad’sannouncement.“Wheredidthiscomefrom?”
“It’sjustmeandCraigherenow,”Dadsays,“andwithhimgoingofftocollegeinacouplemonths,itdoesn’tmakemuchsensetohangontothisbig,emptyplace.Timetodownsize.”
“Dad,comeon,”Billyinterjects.“Where’sShanegonnasleepwhenheforgetswherehelivesagain?”
“Onetime,”Shanegrowls,punchinghiminthearm.
“Yeah,fuckyou,onetime.”Billygiveshimashove.“Whataboutwhenyousleptonthebeachbecauseyoucouldn’tfindyourcarparkednotevenfiftyyardsaway?”
“Willy’allknockitoff?You’reactinglikeabunchofdamnidiots.Therearepeoplestillouttheremourningyourmother.”
Thatshutseveryoneuprealquick.Forjustaminuteortwo,we’dforgotten.That’swhatkeepshappening.Weforget,andthenthetruckslamsintousagainandwe’resnappedbacktothepresent,tothisstrangerealitythatdoesn’tfeelright.
“LikeIsaid,it’stoomuchhouseforoneperson.Mymind’smadeup.”Dad’stoneisfirm.“ButbeforeIcanputitonthemarket,we’vegottofixitupalittle.Putaspitshineonit.”
Seemslikeeverything’schangingtoofast,andIcan’tkeepup.IbarelyhadtimetogetmyheadaroundMombeingsickbeforewewereputtingherintheground,andnowI’vegottopickupandmovemywholelifebackhome,onlytofindouthomewon’texistmuchlongereither.I’vegotwhiplash,butI’mstandingstill,watchingeverythingswirlaroundme.
“There’snosenseclearingoutuntilCraiggetssettledatschoolinthefall,”Dadsays,“soit’llbealittlewhileyet.Butthereitis.Thoughty’allshouldknowsoonerratherthanlater.”
Withthat,heducksoutoftheden.Damagedone.Heleavesustherewiththefalloutofhisannouncement,allofusshell-shockedandstaggering.
“Shit,”Shanesayslikehejustrememberedhelefthiskeysonthebeachathightide.“Youknowhowmuchpornandoldweedishiddeninthishouse?”
“Right.”Affectingaseriousface,Billysmackshishandstogether.“SoafterDadfallsasleep,westartrippingoutfloorboards.”
Astheboysargueaboutwhogetsdibsonanylostcontrabandtheymightdigup,I’mstilltryingtocatchmybreath.IguessI’veneverbeengoodwithchange.I’mstillfumblingtonavigatemyowntransformationsinceleavingtown.
Swallowingasigh,Iabandonmybrothersandstepintothehall—wheremygazesnagsonprobablytheonlythingaboutthisplacethathasn’tchangedonebit.
Myex-boyfriendEvanHartley.CHAPTER2
GENEVIEVE
Theguy’sgotsomenervewalkinginherelookinglikethat.Thosehaunting,darkeyesthatstilllurkinthedeepestpartsofmymemory.Brown,nearlyblackhairIstillfeelbetweenmyfingers.He’sasheart-stabbinglygorgeousasthepicturesthatstillflickerbehindmyeyes.It’sbeenayearsinceIlastsawhim,yetmyresponsetohimisthesame.Hewalksintoaroom,andmybodynoticeshimbeforeIdo.It’sadisturbanceofstaticintheairthatdancesacrossmyskin.
It’sobnoxious,iswhatitis.Andthatmybodyhastheaudacitytoreacttohim,now,atmymother’sfuneral,isevenmoredisturbing.
EvanstandswithhistwinbrotherCooper,scanningtheroomuntilhenoticesme.Theguysareidenticalexceptforoccasionalvariancesintheirhaircuts,butmostpeopletellthemapartbytheirtattoos.Cooper’sgottwofullsleeves,whilemostofEvan’sinkisonhisback.Me,Iknowitfromhiseyes.Whetherthey’regleamingwithmischieforflickeringwithjoy,need,frustration…Ialwaysknowwhenit’sEvan’seyesonme.
Ourgazesmeet.Henods.Inodback,mypulsequickening.Literallythreesecondslater,EvanandIconvenedownthehallwheretherearenowitnesses.
It’sstrangehowfamiliarwearewithsomepeople,nomatterhowmuchtimehaspassed.Memoriesofthetwoofuswashovermelikeabalmybreeze.Walkingthroughthishousewithhimlikewe’rebackinhighschool.Sneakinginandoutatallhours.Stumblingwithhandsagainstthewalltostayupright.Laughinginhystericalwhisperstonotwakeupthewholehouse.
“Hey,”hesays,holdingouthisarmsinahesitantoffer,whichIacceptbecauseitfeelsmoreawkwardnotto.
Healwaysdidgivegoodhugs.
Iforcemyselfnottolingerinhisarms,nottoinhalehisscent.Hisbodyiswarmandmuscularandasfamiliartomeasmyown.Iknoweveryinchofthattall,deliciousframe.
Itakeahastystepbackward.
“Yeah,so,Iheard.Obviously.Wantedtopaymyrespects.”Evanisbashful,almostcoy,withhishandsinhispocketsandhisheadbowedtolookatmeunderthicklashes.Ican’timaginethepeptalkittooktogethimhere.
“Thanks.”
“And,well,yeah.”Fromonepocket,hepullsoutablueBlowPop.“Igotyouthis.”
Ihaven’tcriedoncesincefindingoutMomwassick.YetacceptingthisstupidtokenfromEvanmakesmythroattightenandmyeyessting.
I’msuddenlytransportedbacktothefirsttimeaBlowPopeverexchangedhandsbetweenus.Anotherfuneral.Anotherdeadparent.ItwasafterEvan’sdad,Walt,diedinacaraccident.Drunkdriving,becausethat’sthekindofreckless,self-destructivemanWaltHartleyhadbeen.Fortunately,nobodyelsewashurt,butWalt’slifeendedonthedarkroadthatnightwhenhe’dlostcontrolandsmashedintoatree.
Iwastwelveatthetimeandhadnocluewhattobringtoawake.Myparentsbroughtflowers,butEvanwasakidlikeme.Whatwashegoingtodowithflowers?AllIknewwasthatmybestfriendandtheboyI’dalwayshadahugecrushonwashurtingbadly,andallIhadtomynamewasonemeaslydollar.ThefanciestthingIcouldaffordatthegeneralstorewasalollipop.
EvanhadcriedwhenIclaspedtheBlowPopinhisshakinghandandquietlysatbesidehimonthebackdeckofhishouse.He’dwhispered,“Thanks,Gen,”andthenwesatthereinsilenceformorethananhour,staringatthewaveslappingattheshore.
“Shutup,”Imuttertomyself,clenchingthelollipopinmypalm.“You’resodumb.”Despitemywords,webothknowI’mdeeplyaffected.
Evancracksaknowingsmileandsmoothsonehandoverhistie,straighteningit.Hecleansupnice,butnottoonice.Somethingaboutasuitonthisguystillfeelsdangerous.
“You’reluckyIfoundyoufirst,”ItellhimonceIcanspeakagain.“Notsuremybrotherswouldbeasfriendly.”
Withanunconcernedsmirk,heshrugs.“Kellanhitslikeagirl.”
Typical.“I’llmakesuretotellhimyousaidso.”
Somewanderingcousinsglimpseusaroundthecornerandlookasthoughtheymightfindareasontocometalktome,soIgrabEvanbythelapelandshovehimtowardthelaundryroom.Ipressmyselfupagainstthedoorframe,thenchecktomakesurethecoastisclear.
“Ican’tgethijackedintoanotherconversationabouthowmuchIremindpeopleofmymom,”Igroan.“Like,dude,thelasttimeyousawme,Istillwasn’teatingsolidfood.”
Evanadjustshistieagain.“Theythinkthey’rehelping.”
“Well,they’renot.”
EveryonewantstotellmewhatagreatladyMomwasandhowimportantfamilywastoher.It’salmostcreepy,hearingpeopletalkaboutawomanwhobearsnoresemblancetothepersonIknew.
“Howyouholdingup?”heasksroughly.“Like,really?”
Ishruginreturn.Becausethat’sthequestion,isn’tit?I’vebeenaskeditadozendifferentwaysoverthepastcoupledays,andIstilldon’thaveaproperanswer.Oratleast,nottheonepeoplewanttohear.
“I’mnotsureIfeelanything.Idon’tknow.MaybeI’mstillinshockorsomething.Youalwaysexpectthesethingstohappeninasplitsecond,orovermonthsandmonths.This,though?Itwaslikejustthewrongamountofwarning.Icamehome,andaweeklatershewasdead.”
“Igetthat,”hesays.“Barelytimetogetyourbearingsbeforeit’sover.”
“Ihaven’tknownwhichwayisupfordays.”Ibitemylip.“I’mstartingtowonderifthere’ssomethingwrongwithme?”
Hefixesmewithadisbelievingscowl.“It’sdeath,Fred.There’snothingwrongwithyou.”
Isnortalaughathisnicknameforme.BeensolongsinceI’veheardit,I’dalmostforgottenwhatitsoundedlike.TherewasatimewhenIansweredtoitmorethanmyownname.
“Seriously,though.Ikeepwaitingforthegrieftohit,butitdoesn’tcome.”
“It’shardtofindalotofemotionforapersonwhodidn’thavealotforyou.Evenifit’syourmom.”Hepauses.“Maybeespeciallymoms.”
“True.”
Evangetsit.Healwayshas.Oneofthethingswehaveincommonisanunorthodoxrelationshipwithourmothers.Inthatthereisn’tmuchrelationshiptospeakof.Whilehismomisanimpermanentideainhislife—absentexceptforthefewtimesayearshebreezesintotowntosleepoffabenderoraskformoney—minewasabsentinspiritifnotinbody.Minewassocoldanddetached,eveninmyearliestmemories,thatshehardlyseemedtoexistatall.Igrewupjealousoftheflowerbedsshetendedinthefrontyard.
“I’malmostrelievedshe’sgone.”Alumprisesinmythroat.“No,morethanalmost.That’sterribletosay,Iknowthat.Butit’slike…nowIcanstoptrying,youknow?Tryingandthenfeelinglikecrapwhenitdoesn’tchange.”
MywholelifeImadeeffortstoconnectwithher.Tofigureoutwhymymotherdidn’tseemtolikememuch.I’dnevergottenananswer.MaybenowIcanstopasking.
“It’snotterrible,”Evansays.“Somepeoplemakeshitparents.It’snotourfaulttheydon’tknowhowtoloveus.”
ExceptforCraig—Momcertainlyknewhowtolovehim.Afterfivefailedattempts,she’dfinallygottenthereciperightwithhim.Heroneperfectsonshecouldpouralifetimeofmotheringinto.Ilovemylittlebrother,butheandImightaswellhavebeenraisedbytwodifferentpeople.He’stheonlyoneofuswalkingaroundherewithred,swolleneyes.
“CanItellyousomething?”Evansayswithagrinthatmakesmesuspicious.“Butyouhavetopromisenottohitme.”
“Yeah,Ican’tdothat.”
Helaughstohimselfandlickshislips.Aninvoluntaryhabitthatalwaysdrovemecrazy,becauseIknowwhatthatmouthiscapableof.
“Imissedyou,”heconfesses.“AmIanassholeifI’msortofgladsomeonedied?”
Ipunchhimintheshoulder,towhichhefeignsinjury.Hedoesn’tmeanit.Notreally.ButinaweirdwayIappreciatethesentiment,ifonlybecauseitgivesmepermissiontosmileforasecondortwo.Tobreathe.
Itoywiththethinsilverbraceletcirclingmywrist.Notquitemeetinghiseyes.“Imissedyoutoo.Alittle.”
“Alittle?”He’smockingme.
“Justalittle.”
“Mmm-mmm.Soyouthoughtaboutme,what,once,twiceadaywhenyouweregone?”
“Morelikeonceortwicetotal.”
Hechuckles.
Truthfully,afterIlefttheBayIspentmonthsdoingmybesttopushawaythethoughtsofhimwhentheyinsistedtheirwayforward.RefusingtheimagesthatcamewhenIclosedmyeyesatnightorwentonadate.Eventuallyitgoteasier.I’dalmostmanagedtoforgethim.Almost.
Andnowhereheis,andit’slikenotasecondhaspassed.Westillhavethisbubbleofenergybuildingbetweenus.It’sevidentinthewayheangleshisbodytowardmine,thewaymyhandlingersonhisarmlongerthannecessary.Howithurtsnottotouchhim.
“Don’tdothat,”IorderwhenInoticehisexpression.I’mcaughtinhiseyes.Snagged,likecatchingmyshirtonadoorhandle,onlyit’samemorytrippingupmybrain.
“Dowhat?”
“Youknowwhat.”
Evan’slipsliftatthecorner.Justatwitch.Becauseheknowsthewayhelooksatme.
“Youlookgood,Gen.”He’sdoingitagain.Thedareinhiseyes,theimplicationsinhisgaze.“Timeawayagreedwithyou.”
Thelittleshit.Itisn’tfair.Ihatehim,evenasmyfingersmakecontactwithhischestandslidedownthefrontofhisshirt.
No,whatIhateishoweasilyhecanhaveme.
“Weshouldn’tdothis,”Imurmur.
We’retuckedawaybutstillvisibletoanyoneshouldtheygettheurgetoglanceinourdirection.Evan’shandskimsthehemofmydress.Hepushesupunderthefabricandsoftlydragshisfingertipsalongthecurveofmyass.
“No,”hebreathesagainstmyear.“Weshouldn’t.”
So,ofcourse,wedo.
Weslipintothebathroomnexttothelaundryroom,lockingthedoorbehindus.Mybreathlodgesinmythroatwhenheliftsmeuponthevanity.
“Thisisaterribleidea,”ItellhimashegripsmywaistandIbracemyselfagainstthesink.
“Iknow.”Andthenhecoversmymouthwithhis.
Thekissisurgentandhungry.Lord,Imissedthis.Imissedhiskissesandthegreedythrustofhistongue,howwildandunbridledheis.Ourmouthsdevoureachother,almosttooroughly,andstillIcan’thaveenoughofhim.
Theanticipationandfranticneedistoomuch.Ifumblewiththebuttonsofhisshirt,pullingitopentodragmynailsdownhischestuntilthepainmakeshimpinmyarmsbehindmyback.It’shotandraw.Maybealittleangry.Alltheunfinishedbusinessworkingitselfout.Iclosemyeyesandholdonfortheride,losingmyselfinthekiss,thetasteofhim.Hekissesmeharder,deeper,untilI’mmindlesswithneed.
Ican’tstanditanymore.
Iforcemyarmsfreetounbucklehisbelt.Evanwatchesme.Watchesmyeyes.Mylips.
“I’vemissedthis,”hewhispers.
SohaveI,butIcan’tbringmyselftosayitoutloud.
Igaspwhenhishandtravelsbetweenmythighs.MyownhandistremblingasIslipitinsidehisboxersand—
“Everythingokayinthere?”Avoice.Thenaknock.Myentireextendedfamilyisontheothersideofthedoor.
Ifreeze.
“Fine,”Evancallsback,hisfingertipsascantinchfromwhereIwasjustachingforhim.
Now,I’mslidingoffthevanity,pushinghishandoffme,withdrawingminefromhisboxers.Beforemyflatsevenconnectwiththetiledfloor,Ialreadyhatemyself.Barelyinthesameroomwithhimfortenminutes,andIloseallself-control.
IalmosthadsexwithEvanHartleyatmymother’sfuneralreception,forfuck’ssake.Ifwehadn’tbeeninterrupted,IhavenodoubtIwould’velethimtakemerightthenandthere.That’sanewlow,evenforme.
Damnit.
I’dspentthelastyeartrainingmyselftoatleastapproximateanormalfunctioningadult.Tonotsurrendertoeverydestructiveinstincttheseconditpopsintomyhead,toexercisesomedamnrestraint.AndthenEvanHartleylickshislipsandI’mopenforbusiness.
Really,Gen?
AsI’mfixingmyhairinthemirror,Iseehimwatchingmewithaquestiononhistongue.
Finallyhevoicesit.“Youokay?”
“Ican’tbelievewealmostdidthat,”Imumble,shameliningmythroat.Then,Ifindmycomposureandsteelupmydefenses.Iliftmyhead.“Justsowe’reclear,thisisn’tgoingtobeathing.”
“Thehelldoesthatmean?”Hisaffrontedgazemeetsmineinthereflection.
“ItmeansIhavetobeintownforabitformydad,butwhileI’mhere,we’renotgoingtobeseeingeachother.”
“Seriously?”Whenhereadsmyresolvedexpression,hissours.“Whatthehell,Gen?Youstickyourtonguedownmythroatandthentellmetogetlost?That’sprettyshitty.”
Turningtofacehim,Ishrugwithfeignedindifference.Hewantsmetofighthimbecauseheknowsthere’salotofemotionhere,andthemorehedragsitoutofme,thebetterhischances.ButI’mnotgoingthereagain,notthistime.Thiswasalapseinjudgment.Temporaryinsanity.I’mbetternow.Headonstraight.Gotitalloutofmysystem.
“Youknowwecan’tstayawayfromeachother,”hetellsme,growingmorefrustratedatmydecision.“Wespentourwholerelationshiptrying.Doesn’twork.”
He’snotwrong.UntilthedayIfinallylefttown,wewereonandoffsincefreshmanyearofhighschool.Aconstantpush-and-pulloflovingandfighting.SometimesI’mthemoth,othertimestheflame.
WhatIeventuallyfiguredout,though,isthattheonlywaytowinisnottoplay.
Unlockingthedoor,Ipausetoofferabrieflookovermyshoulder.“There’safirsttimeforeverything.”CHAPTER3
EVAN
ThisiswhatIgetfortryingtobeaniceguy.Sheneededtoforgetforalittlewhile—that’scool.I’llnever,evercomplainaboutkissingGenevieve.Butshecould’veatleastplayedniceafterward.Let’sgettogetherlaterandhaveadrink,catchup.Blowingmeoffaltogetherisharshevenforher.
Genhasalwayshadsharpedges.Hell,it’soneofthethingsthatdrawsmetoher.Butshe’sneverlookedatmewithsuchdeaddisinterest.LikeIwasnobodytoher.
Brutal.
AsweleavetheWesthouseandwalktowardCooper’struck,hegivesmealookofsuspicion.Beyondappearances,we’reentirelydifferentpeople.Ifweweren’tbrothers,weprobablywouldn’tevenbefriends.Butwearebrothers—evenworse,twins—whichmeanswecanreadeachother’smindswithonemeaslylook.
“You’rekiddingme,”hesays,sighingwithwhathasbecomeanear-permanentstateofjudgmentplasteredonhisface.Formonthsnow,he’sbeenonmycaseabouteverylittlething.
“Leaveit.”Honestly,I’mnotinthemoodtohearit.
Hepullsawayfromthecurbamongthelonglineofcarsparkedonthestreetforthereception.“Unbelievable.Youhookedupwithher.”Heslidesaside-eyeatme,whichIignore.“JesusChrist.Youweregonefortenminutes.What,youwerelike,I’msosorryforyourloss,here,havemypenis?”
“Fuckoff,Coop.”Whenhephrasesitlikethat,itdoessoundkindofbad
Kindof?
Fine.Alright.Maybenearlyhavingsexathermother’sfuneralreceptionwasn’tthebrightestofideas,but…butImissedher,damnit.SeeingGenagain,aftermorethanayearapart,waslikeapunchtothegut.Myneedtotouchher,kissher,hadborderedondesperation.
Maybethatmakesmeaweakbastard,butthereyouhaveit.
“Ithinkyou’vedoneenoughofthatforthebothofus.”
Igritmyteethandforcemygazeoutthewindow.ThethingaboutCooper—whenourdaddiedandthenourmombasicallyabandonedusaskids,hesomehowgotitinhisheadthatIwantedhimtobecomeboth.Aconstantlynagging,grumpybastardwho’salwaysdisappointedinme.Foralittlewhile,thingsgotbetterafterhesettleddownwithhisgirlfriendMackenzie,whomanagedtoyankthestickoutofhisass.Butnowitseemslikefinallybeinginhisfirststablerelationshiphasgothimbacktothinkinghe’squalifiedtopassjudgmentonmylife.
“Itwasn’tlikethat,”Itellhim.BecauseIcanfeelhimfumingatme.“Somepeoplecrywhenthey’regrieving.Gen’snotacrier.”
Hehalfshakeshishead,twistinghishandsonthesteeringwheelwhilehisjawworksongrindingdownhismolars,likeIcan’thearwhathe’sthinking
“Don’tgiveyourselfananeurysm,bro.Justspititout.”
“She’sbarelybeenintownaweekandalreadyyou’reinituptoyourneck.Itoldyouitwasabadideagoingoverthere.”
IwouldnevergiveCooperthesatisfaction,buthe’sright.GenevieveshowsupandIlosemydamnmind.It’salwaysbeenthatwaywithus.We’retwomostlyharmlesschemicalsthatwhenmixedbecomeanexplosivecombination,levelingacityblockwithsaltwater.
“Youactlikewerobbedaliquorstore.Relax.Allwedidwaskiss.”
Cooper’sdisapprovalpoursoffhim.“Todayit’sjustakiss.Tomorrowisanotherstory.”
And?It’snotasifwe’rehurtinganybody.Ifrownathim.“Dude,whatdoesitmattertoyou?”
HeandGenevieveusedtobecool.Evenfriends.Igetthatmaybeheholdsagrudgeabouthowshelefttown,butit’snotlikeshedidittohim.Anyway,it’sbeenayear.IfI’mnotstillmakingathingofit,whyshouldhe?
Atastoplight,heturnstomeetmyeyes.“Look,you’remybrotherandIloveyou,butyou’reanasswhenshe’saround.Theselastfewmonthsyou’vereallygottenyourshittogether.Don’tthrowallthatawayonachickwho’snevergoingtostopbeingamess.”
Somethingaboutit—Idon’tknow,thecontemptinhisvoice,thecondescension—sticksrightinmycraw.Coopercanbearealself-righteousprickwhenhewantstobe.
“It’snotlikeI’mdatingheragain,okay?Don’tbesodramatic.”
Wepulluptoourhouse,thetwo-story,low-countrycottage-styleonthebeachthat’sbeeninourfamilyforthreegenerations.Theplacewasallbutfallingapartbeforewestartedmakingrenovationsoverthepastseveralmonths.It’stakenmostofoursavingsandmoreofourtime,butit’scomingalong.
“Yeah,youkeeptellingyourselfthat.”Coopershutsofftheenginewithanexasperatedbreath.“Sameoldpattern:takesoffwhenevershewants,suddenlypopsbackin,andyou’rereadytobakecookiestogether.Soundlikeanyotherwomanyouknow?”Withthat,hehopsoutofthetruckandslamsthedoorshut.
Well,thatwasuncalledfor.
Ofthetwoofus,Cooperhasheldthehardestgrudgeagainstourmother,tothepointhe’sresentedmefornotneedingtohateherasmuchashedoes.Inherlatestepisode,though,Ibackedhimup.Toldhershewasn’twelcometohangaroundanymore,notafterwhatshedidtohim.ShelleyHartleyhadfinallycrossedonelinetoomany.
ButIguesstakingCooper’ssidewasn’tenoughtogethimtoeaseuponme.Everyone’sfulloflowblowstoday.
Atdinnerlater,Cooperstillhasn’tlettheGenevievethinggo.Notinhisnature.
It’sdamnirritating.I’mtryingtoeatmydamnedspaghetti,andthisassholeisstilllayingintomewhilehetellsMackenzie,who’sbeenlivingwithusforthepastfewmonths,abouthowIbasicallyscrewedmyexontopofthestill-warmcasketofherdeadmother.
“Evansayshe’lljustbeaminute,thenleavesmebymyselfinthathousetogiveourcondolencestoherdadandfivebrothers,whoprettymuchthinkit’sEvan’sfaultsheranoutoftownayearago,”Coopergrumbles,stabbingameatballwithhisfork.“They’reaskingwhereheis;meanwhile,he’sgotMr.West’sbabygirlbentoverthebathtuborwhatever.”
“Wejustkissed,”Isayinexasperation.
“Coop,comeon,”Macsays,wincingawayfromherfork,whichiscoiledwithpastaandhangingmid-air.“I’mtryingtoeat.”
“Yeah,havesometact,jackass,”Ichide.
Whenthey’renotlooking,IslipapieceofmeatballtoDaisy,thegoldenretrieverpuppyatmyfeet.CooperandMacrescuedheroffthejettylastyearandshe’snearlydoubledinsizesincethen.AtfirstIwasn’tthrilledwiththeideaoftakingcareofthiscreatureCooper’snewgirlfriendhaddumpedonus,butthenshespentanightcurledupattheendofmybedhavingpuppydreams,andIbrokelikeacheaptoy.Dog’shadmewrappedaroundherpaweversince.She’stheonlygirlIcantrustnottotakeoffonme.Luckily,CoopandMacworkedout,sowedidn’thavetofightacustodybattle.
It’sfunnyhowlifeworksoutsometimes.Lastyear,CooperandIhatchedanadmittedlymean-spiritedplottosabotageMac’srelationshipwithherboyfriendatthetime.Inourdefense,theguywasadouchebag.ThenCooperhadtospoilallthefunandcatchfeelingsfortherichcollegegirl.Icouldn’tstandheratfirst,butitturnedoutI’dreadMackenzieCabotallwrong.IwasatleastmanenoughtoadmitI’dmisjudgedher.Cooper,ontheotherhand,can’tkeephisthoughtstohimselfsofarasGen’sconcerned.Typical.
“Sowhat’stherealstorywithyoutwo?”Macasks,curiosityflickeringinherdark-greeneyes.
Therealstory?HowdoIevenbegintoanswerthat?GenevieveandIhavehistory.Lotsofit.Someofitgreat.Some,notsogood.Thingshavealwaysbeencomplicatedwithus.
“Wegottogetherfreshmanyearofhighschool,”ItellMac.“Shewasbasicallymybestfriend.Alwaysgoodforalaughanddownforanything.”
Mymindissuddenlyfloodedwithimagesofusmessingaroundondirtbikesattwointhemorningwithafifthoftequilabetweenus.Surfingtheswellsasahurricanemovedin,thenridingoutthestorminthebackofherbrother’sJeep.GenandIconstantlydaredeachother’slimitsofadventure,gettingintoafewscrapeswithdeathormutilationthatwehadnorightescapingunscathed.Therewasnoadultintherelationship,sotherewasneverapointwhensomeonesaidstop.Wewerealwayschasingtherush.
AndGenwasarush.Fearlessandundaunted.Unapologeticallyherself,andtohellwhatanyonehadtosayaboutit.Shemademecrazy;morethanonceIbrokemyhandwrestlingsomeassholecorneringherinabar.Yeah,maybeIwaspossessive,butnomorethanshewas.She’ddragachickoutbyherhairforlookingatmethewrongway.Mostofithadsomethingtodowiththeoff-and-onpart—gettingjealous,fighting,andturningaroundtomaketheotheronejealous.Itwasalittlemessedup,butitwasourlanguage.Iwashersandshewasmine.Wewereaddictedtomake-upsex.
Thequietmomentswerejustasaddictive.LyingonabeachblanketatourfavoritespotintheBay,herheadinthecrookofmyneck,myarmslungaroundheraswelookedupatthestars.Whisperingourdarkestsecretstoeachotherandknowingthere’dneverbeanyjudgmentontheotherend.Hell,asidefromCooper,she’stheonlyonetoeverseemecry.
“Therewasalotofbreakingupandmakingup,”Iadmit.“Butthatwasourthing.Andthenlastyear,shewassuddenlygone.Onedayshejustpickedupandlefttown.Didn’tsayawordtoanyone.”
Myheartsqueezespainfullyatthememory.Ithoughtitwasajokeatfirst.ThatGenhadtakenoffwithhergirlfriendsandwantedmetofreakoutanddrivetoFloridaorsomethingtotrackherdown,thenfightalittleandbangitout.Untilthegirlspromisedmetheyhadn’theardapeepfromher.
“Ifoundoutlatershe’dsettleddowninCharlestonandstartedanewlife.Justlikethat.”Iswallowthebitternessthatclogsmythroat.
Maccontemplatesmeforamoment.We’vegrownfairlyclosesinceshestartedlivinghere,soIknowwhenshe’stryingtoformulateanicewaytotellmeI’madisaster.Notlikeit’sanythingIdon’tknow.
“Goahead,princess.Saywhat’sonyourmind.”
Sheputsherforkdownandpushesherplateaway.“Soundslikeatoxicsituationforbothofyou.MaybeGenwasrighttoenditforgood.Itmightbebetteryoutwostayawayfromeachother.”
Atthat,CooperslidesmeaglarebecausethereisalmostnothinghelovesmorethananI-told-you-so.
“IsaidthesamethingtoCooperaboutyou,”Iremindher.“Andnowlookatyouguys.”
“Forfuck’ssake.”Cooperthrowshisutensilsonhisplate,andhischairsqueaksagainstthewoodenfloor.“Youcan’tcomparethetwo.Notevenclose.Genevieveisamess.Thebestthingsheeverdidforyouwasstoptakingyourcalls.Letitgo,dude.She’snothereforyou.”
“Yeah,youmustbelovingthis,”Isay,wipingmymouthwithmynapkinbeforetossingitonthetable.“Becausethisispayback,right?”
Hesighs,rubbinghiseyeslikeI’msomedogrefusingtobehouse-trained.Condescendingprick.“I’mtryingtolookoutforyoubecauseyou’retoodick-blindedtoseewherethiswillend.Whereyoutwoalwaysendup.”
“Youknow,”Isay,gettingupfromthetable.“Maybeyoushouldstopprojectingallyourhang-upsontome.Genevieveisn’tShelley.Stoptryingtopunishmebecauseyou’remadyourmommyleftyou.”
Iregretthewordsevenastheyleavemymouth,butIdon’tturnbackasDaisyfollowsmetothekitchendoorandweheadforthebeach.Truthis,nooneknowsbetterthanmeallthemessed-upshitGenandIhavebeenthrough.Howinescapableweare.Butthat’sjustit.Nowthatshe’sback,Ican’tignoreher.
Thisthingbetweenus,thispull—itwon’tletme.CHAPTER4
GENEVIEVE
Iregretthisalready.MyfirstdayintheofficeatDad’sstonebusinessisworsethanIimagined.Forweeks,maybemonths,theguyswalkedinheretoleaveinvoicesinahaphazardpileonthedeskinfrontofanemptychair.Mailwastossedinatraywithoutsomuchaslookingatwhoitwasfrom.There’sstillamugofsludgethatusedtobecoffeesittingontopofthefilingcabinet.Openedsugarpacketstheantshavelongsincescavengedaresittinginthetrashcan.
AndShaneisn’thelping.WhileIsitatthecomputertryingtodiscernMom’sfile-namingsystemtotrackdownsomekindofrecordofpaidandoutstandingaccounts,mysecond-oldestbrotherisdownaTikTokholeonhisphone.
“Hey,fuckhead,”Isay,snappingmyfingers.“Therearelikesixinvoicesherewithyournameonthem.Arethesepaidorstillpending?”
Hedoesn’tbotherraisinghisheadfromhisscreen.“HowshouldIknow?”
“Becausethey’reyourjobsites.”
“That’snotmydepartment.”
Shanedoesn’tseemeshakemyhandsintheairasI’mimaginingthrottlinghim.Asshole.
“TherearethreeemailsherefromJerryaboutapatioforhisrestaurant.Youneedtogetonthephonewithhimandsetupanappointmenttodoawalk-throughandgivehimanestimate.”
“I’vegotshittodo,”hesays,barelymutteringthewordsashisattentionstaysfocusedonthetinyglowingboxinhishands.It’slikehe’sfiveyearsold.
Ilaunchapaperclipathimwitharubberband.Nailshimrightinthemiddleofhisforehead.
“Shit,Gen.Whatthehell?”
Thatgothisattention.
“This.”IpushtheinvoicesacrossthedeskandwritedownJerry’sphonenumber.“Sinceyou’vealreadygotyourphoneout,makethecall.”
Utterlydisgustedwithmytone,hesneersatme.“Yourealizeyou’rebasicallyDad’ssecretary.”
Shaneissincerelytestingmyloveforhimanddesiretolethimlive.Ihavefourotherbrothers.NotlikeI’llreallymissone.
“Youdon’tgettobossmearound,”hegripes.
“Dadmademeofficemanageruntilhefindssomeoneelse.”Igetupfromthedesktoputthepapersinhishandandshovehimoutoftheoffice.“Soasfarasyou’reconcerned,Iamyourgodnow.Getusedtoit.”ThenIslamthedooronhim.
Iknewthiswouldhappen.Growingupinahousewithsixkids,allofuswerealwaysjockeyingforposition.Weallhaveanautonomycomplex,everyonetryingtoexerttheirindependencewhilegettingshitonfromtheupperrungsoftheageladder.It’sworsenowthatI’mthetwenty-two-year-oldmiddlekidtellingthebigbrotherswhat’swhat.Still,Dadwasright—thisplaceisawreck.IfIdon’tgetitallsortedinahurry,he’llbebrokeinnotime.
Later,afterwork,ImeetupwithmybrotherBillyforadrinkatRonda’s,alocaldivefortheretiredswingerscrowdthatspendstheirdaysdrivingupanddownAvalonBayingolfcartsandtradingkeysinafishbowloveragameofpoker.TherisingMaytemperaturesintheBaymeansthereturnofwall-to-walltouristsandrichprickscloggingtheboardwalk,sotherestofushavetofindmorecreativeplacestohangout.
AsBillysmilesattheleathery-facedbartenderforabeer—nobodyinthistowncardsthelocals—Iorderacoffee.It’sunseasonablyswelteringoutside,evenatsunset,andmyclothesarestickingtomyskinlikepapier-maché,butIcanalwaysdrinkacupofhot,unleadedcaffeine.It’showyouknowyou’refromtheSouth.
“SawyouandJaybringinginsomeboxeslastnight,”Billysays.“Thatthelastofit?”
“Yeah,I’mleavingmostofmystuffinstoragebackinCharleston.Doesn’tmakemuchsensetohaulmyfurnituredownherejusttomoveitallbackupinafewmonths.”
“You’restillsetongoingback?”
Inod.“I’llhavetofindadifferentplace,though.”
Mylandlordwasatotaljerkaboutbreakingmyleaseacouplemonthsearly,soI’llstillbepayinghimwhileI’mherelivinginmychildhoodbedroom.Leavingmyjobdidn’tgomuchbetter.MybossattherealestateagencyallbutlaughedatmewhenImentionedtakingaleaveofabsence.IhopeDad’splanningonpayingmewell.Hemightbeagrievingwidower,butIdon’tworkforfree.
“Soguesswhowalkedintothehardwarestoretheotherday?”Billysayswithalookthattellsmetobracemyself.“DeputyDog-shitcameinhasslingmeaboutthesidewalksign.Somethingabouttownordinancesandblockingpedestriantraffic.”
Mynailsbiteintotheweatheredbartop.Evenafterayear,thementionofDeputyRustyRandallstillcoaxesaspecialkindofanger.
“Thatsign’sbeentherefor,what,”Billysays,“twentyyearsatleast.”
AslongasIcanremember,definitely.It’sastapleofthesidewalk,ourwoodenA-framesignwiththecartoonhandymanannouncing,YES,WE’REOPEN!andwavingapipewrench.Theothersidefeaturesachalkboardwiththeweek’ssaleornewproducts.WhenIwaslittleandlovedfollowingDadtowork,heusedtoyellatmefrominsidethatIbetternotbedrawingonthesign.I’dhastilyerasemyartworkandbegintransferringittotheconcrete,doingmybesttoforcetrafficaroundmymasterpiecesandjustaboutbitingtheanklesofftouristswhostompedtheirSperrysthroughmysidewalkgallery.
“Theguywouldn’tleaveuntilIbroughtthesigninside,”Billygrumbles.“HestoodthereforfifteenminuteswhileIpretendedtohelpsomecustomersandhaggledwithhimabouthisbullshitordinance.IwasabouttocallDadtotalksomesenseintohim,buthewentforhiscuffslikehewasabouttoarrestme,soIsaid,screwit.Iwaitedafewminutesafterheleftandthenputitbackout.”
“Asshole,”Imutterintomycoffee.“Youknowhegetsoffonit.”
“I’msurprisedhedidn’ttailyouintotown.Halfexpectedhimtobesittingoutsidethehouseinthemiddleofthenight.”
Iwouldn’thaveputitpasthim.Aboutayearago,DeputyRandallbecamemycautionarytale.Thatnightwasmyrockbottom,themomentIrealizedIcouldn’tgoonlivinglikeIwas.Drinkingtoomuch,partyingeverynight,lettingmydemonsgetthebestofme.Ihadtodosomethingaboutit—getmylifeback—beforeitwastoolate.SoImadeaplan,andacouplemonthslater,IpackedupeverythingIneededandsetoffforCharleston.BillywastheonlypersonItoldaboutthatnightwithRusty.Eventhoughhe’stwoyearsyoungerthanme,he’salwaysbeenmyclosestconfidant.
“Istillthinkabouther,”Itellmybrother.TheguiltchurninginmygutatthethoughtofKaylaandherchildrenisstillpotentafterallthistime.I’dheardawhilebackshe’dleftRustyandtakenthekids.“IfeellikeIshouldfindher.Apologize.”
Thoughtheideaoffacingher,andhowshemightreact,isenoughtosendmeintoananxietyspiral.It’sbecomeanewfeelingformesincethatnight.Therewasatimewhennothingscaredme.Thestuffthatleftotherpeoplebitingtheirnailsrolledrightoffmyshoulders.Now,Ilookbackonmywilderdaysandcringe.Someofthosedayswerenotsolongago.
“Dowhatyouwant,”Billysays,takingadeepswigofhisbeerasiftowashthelingeringtopicoutofhismouth.“Butyouhavenothingtoapologizefor.Theguy’sajackassandacreep.He’sluckywedidn’tfindhimdownadarkdirtroadsomewhere.”
I’dswornBillytosecrecy;otherwise,hedefinitelywould’verunandtoldDadorourbrotherswhathadhappened.I’mgladhekeptitquiet.Nosenseinallofthemwindingupinprisonforbeatingthepulpoutofacop.ThenRandallwouldwin.
“I’mgoingtorunintohimeventually,”Isay,moretomyself.
“Well,ifyou’vegottoskiptowninahurry,IstillhaveabouteightybucksstashedinmyoldbedframeatDad’shouse.”Billygrinsatme,whichdoesgoalongwaytounwindingtheknotinmychest.He’sgoodlikethat.
Aswe’reclosingoutthetab,IgetatextfrommybestfriendHeidi.
Heidi:Bonfireonthebeachtonight.
Me:Where?
Heidi:Theusual.
MeaningEvanandCooper’shouse.Theplaceisloadedwithemotionallandmines.
Me:Idon’tknowifthat’sagoodidea.
Heidi:Comeon.Acoupledrinksthenyoucanbail.
Heidi:Don’tmakemecomegetyou.
Heidi:Seeyouthere.
Me:Fine.Bitch.
Istifleasigh,asmytiredbraintriestoworkthroughyetanotherpitfalltoconsider.Settlingbackintotown,Iwasexcitedtoreconnectwitholdfriendsandspendmoretimewithothers,buttryingtododgeEvanmakesthatmorecomplicated.Ican’tverywelldrawalinedownthecenteroftown.Andnopartofmewantsthesummertodevolveintotestsofloyaltyandcallingdibsonourtightweboffriends,tiescrossingandoverlapping.Itisn’tfairtoeitherofus.BecauseasmuchasIknownothinggoodcomesfromlettingEvanbackin,Ihavenointentionstohurthim.Thisismypunishment,nothis.CHAPTER5
EVAN
Allthefreakscomeoutatnight.Underafullmoon,we’rethehiddenimagesofourselves,revealedinsilverlight.It’stheBayturnedwildwithinhibitionandmischief,everybodyhotandbotheredandachingforagoodtime.Anyexcuseforaparty.
Onthebeach,dozensofourfriends,andmorethanafewrandomtagalongs,surroundabonfire.Ourhouseissetbackjustbeyondthedunesandgrassytree-dottedlawn,itsoutlineevidentonlyintheorangeporchlights.It’sagoodtime,kickingbackwithafewbeers,smokingabowl.Acouplepeoplewithguitarshaggleoversongrequestswhileanearbygroupplaysstripglowfrisbee.Whateverittakestogetlaidthesedays,Iguess.
“Sothiscloneiswasted,right,”Jordy,anoldhighschoolfriendofours,saystothoseofusgatheredaroundthefire,sittingonadriftwoodlogwhileherollsajoint.Dudecoulddothisshitwithhiseyesclosedandit’dstillbethetightest,neatestrollyou’veeverseen.“Andtheguystumblesintoourtable.Likeknocksrightintous.HekeepscallingmeParker.”
Welaugh,becauseit’ssuchaclonename.Thosecollar-wearingpansy-assRichieRicheswhogotoGarnetCollegearenothingifnotpredictable.Can’tholdtheirliquorandmakingiteveryoneelse’sproblem.
“Forliketwentyminuteshe’stalkingtous,holdingontothetabletokeepfromsplatteringonthefloor.Noideawhatthehellhe’sbabblingabout.Thensuddenlyhe’slike,hey,comeon,bros,after-partyatmyhouse.”
“No,”Mackenziesays,eyesflashingwideanddreadinhervoice.“Youdidnot.”She’skeepingCooperinabettermoodtonight,sittinginhislapwithhertitsshovedupinhisface.Gothimwelloccupied,whichisarelief.Iwasgettingsickofhistantrums.
Jordyshrugs.“Imean,heinsisted.Sothefourus,right,areprettymuchhavingtocarrythisguyoutofthebar.Thenhehandsmehiskeysandsays,youdrive,it’stheblueone.Ipressthebuttononthefob,andthisMaseratiSUVflashesitslightsatme.Likenoway,right?That’sahundred-thousand-dollarcar.I’mprettysureIsteppedinpissatsomepointinthatdirtybarbathroom,butsure,guy.”
“Justtellmehestillhashiskidneys,”Isaywithagrin.
“Yeah,yeah.Wedidn’tchophimorthecarforparts.”Jordywaveshishand,thenlightsthejoint.“Anyway.Sotheguygoes,Car,takemehome.Andthethingislike,okay,Christopher,here’syourroutehome.AtthatpointI’mthinking,well,shit.SoIrevthatbabyupandstartdriving.Aboutahalfhourlaterwegettohisstupid-hugemansiondownthecoast.I’mtalkingirongateandtopiariesandshit.Sowemakeittherealiveandthedude’slike,hey,wanttoseesomethingcool?”
Alwaysthefamouslastwords.LikethetimeourbuddyWyatttriedtheknifetrickfromAliensandhadtogetthirty-sevenstichesandhaveatendonreattached.Cometothinkofit,thatwasoneofthelasttimesGenevieveandIhungout.Which,untilalltheblood,wasaprettygoodtime.Can’tsayforsurehowweendeduponthesixty-five-footHatterassportfishingboatoutinthemiddleofthebay,onlythatwehadanightmareofatimegettingittothedockandsomehowstillmanagedtocomeashoreabouttenmilesfromwherewewereaiming.NavigatinggetsahellofalotharderinthedarkafterafewFireballs.
Ican’tbelieveI’dalmostforgottenaboutthatnight.ButIguessI’vedonealotofforgettingoverthelastyear.Ortriedto,atleast.Forawhile,IexpectedGenwouldshowupasifnothinghadhappened.Likesheoversleptforsixmonths.Thenseven,eightmonths—ayeargone,andI’dfinallytrainedmyselftostopthinkingabouthereverytimethisthingorthatremindedmeofanothertimewhen.Soofcourse,justwhenI’vealmostgotheroutofmysystem,she’sback.Afresh,unfilteredshotstraightintomybloodstreamwhenIwasdamnnearclean.NowallItasteareherlips.IfeelhernailsdownmybackeverynightwhileI’mlyinginbed.Iwakeuphearinghervoice.It’sinfuriating.
“Thiscrazybastardthinkshe’sHawkeyeorsomeshit,”Jordysays,passingthejointaroundthecircle.“Runningaroundwithabow,shootingflamingarrowsalloverhisbackyard.I’mlike,nah,whiteboy,I’veseenthismovie.TheguysandIaregonnabailbut,oh,right,wedrovethisdude’scarandwe’restuckoutherebehindanirongate.”
Ican’thelpglancingtowardthehouse.IkeepexpectingGentocomewalkingoutoftheshadows.IfeelMackenziegivingmetheeyeandrealizeshe’scaughtmelooking.Orrather,caughtmehoping.BecauseIknowHeidioroneofthegirlswillhaveinvitedGen,andifshedoesn’tcome,it’sbecauseshe’dratherhideoutatherdad’splacethanchanceseeingmeagain.Thenotionseriouslygrates.
“Wehavetomakearunforitbecausethisdudeisoutofhismind,andwe’reclimbingthroughthesedamnhedgesandgettingallcutup.I’vegotDannyonmyshouldertoheavehimupoverthefence.JuanistryingtogetanUberbutthereceptionsucks,sotheappisn’tloading.We’rehaulingass,hearingallkindsofcommotionbehindus,whileI’mthinking,oneoftheserichfolksaregoingtothinkthathouseisburningdownandcallthecopsonus.Sureenough,abouttenminuteslater,we’reheadingbacktowardthemainroadandacarcomesuprealslowbehindus.”
Ihearavoiceandlookovermyshoulder.It’sGen,standingafewyardsawaywithHeidiandsomeofthegirls.She’swearingalong-sleeveshirtfallingoffoneshoulderandbarelyrevealingatinypairofshortshuggingherasslikethey’repaintedon.Longblackhaircascadesdownherback.Killme.
Gen’sgotthiswayabouther.Confidentandcoolbutwiththisedgeofabsolutebatshitterror,likeatanymomentshecouldblowakissanddragaknifethroughyourparachute,thenpushyououtofaplane.There’snothingsexierthanthewayherblueeyessmilewhenshe’sgotmayhemonhermind.
“Thenthecarstops.Man,mychestispounding.Aguystickshisheadoutthewindowandshoutsatus:Getin,assholes.DrunkLannisterisonthelooseandit’stheBattleoftheBlackwateroutthere.”
Thegrouperuptsinlaughter.Thefireflashesassomeonecoughsupamouthfulofbeer.InoteGenispointedlynotlookinginthisdirection.
Jordygetsthejointbackandtakesahit.“TurnsoutLukewenthomewithsomeclonechickdownthestreetandwasoutsidewhentheysawthisdudeshootingoffthesearrows,whichcaughtatleasttwoboatsonfireattheirdocks.Neighborswererunningoutoftheirhousesfiringbackflares.Like,sheermadness.”
CoopercatchesmewatchingGen.Withoutaword,Ihearhimscoldingme.Thenheshakeshishead,whichmayaswellbeadare.Hemightbesettleddown,butIstillintendtohaveagoodtime.AndIknowGen.Maybeshewasonsomecoldturkeykickbefore,butnowthatshe’sback,there’snopointineitherofuspretendingweknowhowtostayawayfromeachother.It’schemistry.
Wanderingawayfromthebonfire,Iapproachher.I’mhalfhardalready,thinkingaboutthelasttimeIsawher.Legswrappedaroundme.Teethdiggingintomyshoulder.Myskinstillbearsthemarkssheleftbehind.Justthesightofherhasmewantingtotakehertobedandmakeupfortimelost.
ShefeelsmecomingbeforeIopenmymouth,castinghergazeoverhershoulder.There’sthebriefestflickerofrecognition—thesharedsparkoflustandlonging—beforeherexpressionturnsimpassive.
“Whatareyoudrinking?”IsayaswhatIfigureisaneasywayin.
“I’mnot.”
It’sawkwardrightfromtheoff.Allthefamiliarityofourconversationbackatherhouse—gone.TothepointthatevenHeidiandStephwincewithembarrassment.
“Whatdoyouwant?”Iask,ignoringherattitude.Ifthat’deverworkedonme,wewouldn’thavekeptgettingbacktogether.“I’llrunuptothehouseandmakeyousomething.”
“I’mgood,thanks.”Genstaresoffatthewavesclimbingupthesand.
Istifleasigh.“Canwetalk?Takeawalkwithme.”
ShepullsherhairoverhershoulderinamoveIrecognizerightaway.It’sherfuck-offflip.TheI’ve-already-stopped-hearing-youhairtoss.Likewe’restrangers.
“Yeah,no,”shesays,voiceflatandallbutunrecognizable.“I’mnotevenstickingaround.Juststoppedbytosayhey.”
Butnottome.
“Soit’slikethat?”Itrytocurbthebiteinmytoneandfail.“Youcomebackhereandpretendyoudon’tknowme?”
“Okay,”Heidiinterjectswithaboredrollofhereyes.“Thanksforstoppingby,butthisisapenis-freezonetonight.Runalong,Evan.”
“Fuckoff,Heidi.”She’salwaysbeenashit-stirrer.
“Yep,happyto.”Atthat,sheandStephdragGenclosertothebonfireandleavemestandingtherelikeanidiot
Cool.Whatever.Idon’tneedthisaggravation.Genevievewantstoplaygames,fine.IgrababeerfromthecoolerandnoticeagroupofgirlsstrolluptothepartylookingliketheystumbledoutofDaddy’sBentley.They’realldressedinthesamesortoflittleruffletopsandshortskirts—straightoffthecloneassemblyline.DefinitelyGarnetstudents,andmymoney’sonsororitysisters.Gen’scompleteoppositesineveryway.Theystandaroundlookinglostandconfusedforaminute,untiloneofthemhomesinonme.
Shetriesherbesttolookchillwhileslippinginthesandtostrideover.Withtoomuchlipgloss,shesmilesatme.“CanIgetadrink?”
Ihappilypopthecapoffabeerforherandgrabafewmoreforherfriends.Thebestpartaboutrichgirlscomingtoslumitoutherewiththetowniesisthey’reeasilyamused.Tellthemafewembellishedstoriesaboutnear-deathexploitsandrunningfromthecops,andtheyeatthatshitup.Itscratchestheirsticking-it-to-the-parentsitch,allowingthemtolivedangerouslyfromasafe,vicariousdistance,andgivesthemsomethingtotelltheirfriendsabout.Normally,feelinglikeI’manattractionatazoowouldpissmeoff,buttonightI’mnottheonewiththesourface.
AsthechickslettheirhandslingeronmyarmswhiletheylaughatmyjokesandpeelupmyshirtafterItellthemIhavetattoos,Genisstaringdaggersfromherspotnearthefire.Hittingmewithaglarethatsays,really,them?AndIdon’tgiveherthesatisfactionofaresponse,becauseifshewantstopretendI’mdeadtoher,thenI’mcoldallover.
“I’vegotonetoo,”thebravestofthegirlsinformsme.She’scute,inacookie-cutterclonesortofway.Nicerack,atleast.“GotitonspringbreaklastyearinMexico.Wanttosee?”
BeforeIcananswer,shepullsherskirtuptoflashtheinsideofherthighatme.Hertatisajellyfish,lookinglikeit’sglidingupintoherlacypanties.Idon’tknowhowthat’ssupposedtobesexy.ButGenwatchesmelook,andthat’skindofhot.
“Didithurt?”Iaskher,meetingGen’seyesoverthegirl’sshoulder.
“Alittle.ButIlikethepain.”
“Yeah,Igetthat.”It’salmosttooeasy.Thischickispracticallybeggingmetotakeherbacktothehouse.“It’spainthatteachesuswhatpleasureis.Orhowwouldweevenknowthedifference?”
Eventually,herfriendsgiveuptryingtosharemeandwanderofftofindtheirownone-nightstands,anditdoesn’ttakelongbeforeshekissesmeandI’mcoppingahandfulofherass.It’safamiliarroutine,oneI’veindulgedinplentyoftimesthispastyear.ForgettingmyselfinahungrytongueandeagerbodymeantforgettingaboutGenforawhile,nothavingtorememberthecoldtruththatshe’dleftmewithoutaword.
Butrightnow,she’stheonlythingonmymind.WhenIcomeupforair,IspotGenbitingherlipatmelikeshe’dslitmythroatifthereweren’tsomanywitnesses.Ha.Toodamnbad.Shestartedit.
“Motherfucker!”
Iblink,andsuddenlythere’ssomepolo-wearingdouchebagcrowdingmysightline.Hisfaceisredwithanger,makinghimlooklikeapissed-offlobster.HecallsthegirlAshlyn,whoscramblesawayfrommewithaguiltylookaboutasecondbeforethedudesuckerpunchesme.Itisn’tagreatshotandbarelynapsmyheadsideways.
“Well,thatwasrude,”Iremark,readjustingmyjaw.I’vetakensomanyhitsinmylife,Ibarelyfeelitanymore.
“Youstaythehellawayfromher!”He’sallhoppeduponhismachobullshit,andhe’sgothisbuddiesbehindhim.
IlookoveratAshlyn,butshe’snotatmysideanymore.She’shuddledwithherfriendsfiveyardsaway,refusingtomeetmyeyes.ThesmuggleamonherfaceasshewatchesMr.PolotellsmeIwasmorethanfrivolousentertainmentforhertonight.Iwaspayback.
“Easy,there,”Itelltheguy.Afewheadsturn,thenseveralmoreasthepartybecomesawareoftheconfrontation.“YoursisterandIwerejustgettingacquainted.”
“That’smygirlfriend,asshole.”
“You’resleepingwithyoursister?That’sfuckedup,dude.”
Hissecondpunchisstronger.ThetasteofbloodfillsmymouthasIlickatthegashinmylip.Ispitawadofredmucousinthesand.
“Comeon,prettyboy,”Itaunt,smilingwithred,wetteeth.Myarmstinglewithexpectantenergy.“Youcandobetterthanthat.Sheevenshowedmehertattoo.”
Hecomesatmeagain,butthistimeIdodgetheshotandsendhimtothegroundwithbloodpouringoutofhisnose.Wewrestle,sandstickingtothebloodstreakingdownourshirts.Weexchangeblows,rollingarounduntilsomeofhisbuddiesandminefinallyjumpintotearusapart.Myfriendstelltheclonestogetlost.They’reoutnumbered,afterall.Still,asprettyboyandhisgroupareretreating,Ican’thelpfeelinginterrupted,mymusclesnotnearlytiredandtheadrenalinestillrunninghot.
“Comeagainanytime,”Ishoutafterthem.
ThenIturnaroundtoawaveofsaltwatersplashingmeintheface.
WhenIwipemyeyes,Gen’sstandingtherewithanemptyredcup.Ismirkather.“Thanks,Iwasthirsty.”
“You’reanidiot.”
“Hehitmefirst.”Mylipstingsandmyhandissore,butI’motherwiseunscathed.Ireachforher,butshestepsaway.
“Youhaven’tchangedabit.”Atthat,shetossesthecupatmyfeetandleaveswithHeidiandSteph,herlookofdismissivedisgustlandingharderthananyblowIenduredfromthepartycrasher.
Ihaven’tchangedabit?WhyshouldIchange?I’mthesamepersonshe’salwaysknown.Onlydifferenceisshedisappearedforayearandcamebackwithasuperioritycomplex.Pretendingtobesomeoneshe’snot.BecauseIfeltit,theotherdayatherhouse.TherealGenevieve.Thisnewchickisanact,andnotaverygoodone.Idon’tknowwhoshethinksshe’simpressing,butI’mnotabouttofeelbadaboutbeinghonest.Atleastoneofusis.
“Whatwasthat?”CooperfollowsmeuptothehouseasIreachthebackdeck.
“Idon’twanttohearit,”Isay,pullingopentheslidingglassdoortothekitchen.
“Hey.”Hegrabsmyshoulder.“Everyonewashavingagoodtimeuntilyouhadtostartsomeshit.”
“Ididn’tstartanything.”Thisissotypical.Somerandomdudemesseswithme,andCoopermakesitmyfault.“Hedecidedtothrowdownwithme.”
“Yeah.It’salwaystheotherguy.Butsomehowtheyalwayspickyou.Whyisthat?”
“Justlucky,Iguess.”ItrytowalkawayagainbutCoopergetsinmypathandshovesmychest.
“Youneedtogetyourshittogether.We’renotkidsanymore.Pickingfightsbecauseyou’vegotsomechiponyourshoulderhasgottenrealold,Evan.”
“Justonce,it’dbeniceifyoutookmyside.”
“Thenstopbeingonthewrongside.”
Fuckthis.Ipushhimasideandgoupstairstotakeashower.Cooperhasalwaysrefusedtoseemysideofanything.He’stoobusybeingajudgmentalprick.MustbeallwarmandcozyinhisGoodTwindelusion,butI’msickofit.
Waitingforthewatertoheatup,Istareatmyreflectioninthemirrorandexperienceajoltofshock.Mylip’sabitswollen,butnottoobad.No,it’stheravagedlookinmyeyesthatstartlesme.Itmatchesthebroken,batteredfeelingI’vebeenstrugglingtoignoresincemybestfriendskippedtownonme,butIhopelikehellIwasn’twearingthatexpressionbacktherewithGen.Sheknowsshestuckaknifeinmewhenshebailed,butI’llbedamnedifsheseesthedamageitwrought.CHAPTER6
GENEVIEVE
It’sdarkoutsidebythetimeIshutoffthecomputerintheofficeFridaynight.Ihadn’tintendedtoworksolate—everyoneelsehadlongsincegonehome—butIwasinaspreadsheettranceandjustkeptgoinguntilHeiditextedtoremindmethatI’dagreedtomeetuplaterwiththegirls.It’stakenmethebetterpartoftwoweeks,butI’vefinallymanagedtogetahandleontheinvoicetrackingsystem.Bynextweek,Ishouldbecaughtuponalltheoutstandingaccountsjustintimetomakepayroll.IhadtogivemyselfaGooglecrashcourseonthesoftware,butthankfullyMomhaditsetuptoautomatemostoftheprocess.LastthingIneedisabunchofangryemployeeswhentheirpaychecksarescrewedup.Whilepartofmeisworriedthatdoingtoogoodajobmightmakemeindispensable,I’mhopingthatefficiencywillhelpmotivateDadtoallowsomeoneelsetotakeoversoon.
AsI’mlockingupthebuilding,afamiliarpickuptruckpullsintotheparkinglot.MyshoulderstensewhenCooperstepsoutandapproachesmewiththedeterminationofamanwithsomethingonhismind.
“Hey,Coop.”
He’sidenticaltohisbrother,withdarkhairanddauntingbrowneyes.Tallandfit,botharmscoveredintattoos.Andyet,strangely,I’veneverbeenattractedtoCooper.Evancaughtmyeye,andeveninthedarkIcouldtellthemapart,asiftherewassomedistinctauraabouteachofthem.
“Weneedtotalk,”hetellsmewithanangryedgetohisvoice.
“Okay.”Hisabrupttoneputsmeoff,raisingmydefenses.Igrewupthemiddlechildwithfivebrothers.Absolutelynoonegetstocomeinhotatme.SoIplasteronaplacatingsmile.“What’stheproblem?”
“StaythehellawayfromEvan.”Atleasthe’sdirect.
Iknewitwasabadideashowingupatthebonfiretheothernight.EveryinstinctsaidgoinganywherenearEvanwouldn’tendwell,butI’dconvincedmyselfifIkeptmydistance,didn’tengage,itwouldn’tbesobad.Clearlyitwastooclose.
“Maybeyoushouldbehavingthisconversationwithhim,Coop.”
“I’mhavingitwithyou,”hebitesback,andforasecondI’munnerved.I’venevergottenovertheuncannyfeelingofarguingwithEvan’sfacebutCooper’swords.I’veknownthemsincewewerekids,butwhenyou’reascloseasEvanandIwere,it’shardtoreconcilethesefeelingsofintimacythatbelongtoacompletelydifferentyetsimilarperson.“Hewasdoingfineuntilyoucameback.Nowyou’renotevenhereafewweeksandhe’sbeatingthetaroutofsomecollegeprickbecauseyou’vegothisheadallfuckedupagain.”
“That’snotfair.We’vebarelyevenspoken.”
“Andlookatthedamageit’sdone.”
“I’mnotEvan’skeeper,”Iremindhim,uncomfortablewiththeanimositywaftingoffhim.“Whateveryourbrother’supto,I’mnotresponsibleforhisbehavior.”
“No,you’rejustthereasonforit.”Cooperisallbutunrecognizable.Heusedtobetheniceone.Thereasonableone.Well,asreasonableasaHartleytwincanbe.Corneringmeinaparkinglotisn’tlikehim.
“Where’sthiscomingfrom?Ithoughtwewerecool.Weusedtobefriends.”Thethreeofushadbeenatriooftroubleonceuponatime.
“Fuckoff,”hesays,scoffing.Itstartlesme.Hemightaswellhavespitinmyface.“Youtoremybrother’sheartoutandtookoffwithoutevenagoodbye.Whatkindofcold-asspersondoesthat?Youhaveanyideawhatthatdidtohim?No,Gen.We’renotfriends.Youlostthatprivilege.NobodyhurtsEvan.”
Idon’tknowwhattosaytothat.Istandthere,mouthdryandmindblank,watchingthispersonI’veknownpracticallymywholelifelookatmelikeI’mscum.Guiltburnsatmythroat,becauseIknowhe’spartiallyright.WhatIdidwascold.Nowarning,nogoodbye.ImayaswellhavetakenamatchtomyhistorywithEvanandsetitonfire.Butithadn’toccurredtomeCooperwouldgiveashitthatI’dlefthisbrother.Ifanything,Ifiguredhe’dberelieved.
ApparentlyIwaswrong.
“Imeanit,Gen.Leavehimalone.”Withalastglareofcontempt,hegetsinhistruckanddrivesaway.
Later,atJoe’sBeachfrontBar,I’mstilldistractedbytheencounterwithCooper.Amidthecrappymusicandscentsofperfumeandbodyspraywrestlinginthesaltairblowinginfromtheopenpatio,Ikeeprehashingtheinteraction.Itwasunsettling,thewayhesoughtmeouttobasicallysaystayawayorelse.IfIdidn’tknowCooper,I’dhavegoodreasontofeelintimidated.Asitis,though,Idoknowhim.Andhisbrother.SothemoreIspintheconversationoverinmyhead,themorepissedoffIgetthathehadthenervetocomeand,what,tellmeoff?AsifEvanweren’tagrownmanwithmorethanafewmalfunctionsofhisveryownthathavenothingtodowithme.Coopwantstoplaytheprotector?Fine,whatever.Butdespitemylingeringguiltovermyabruptdeparture,learningthatEvan’sstillgoingaroundcausingtroubleonlystrengthensmyconvictionthatleavinghadbeentherightthingtodo.Evan’shadplentyoftimetostraightenhimselfout.Ifhehasn’t,that’sonhim.
“Hey.”Heidi,who’sseatedacrossfrommeatthehigh-toptable,snapsherfingersinmyface,wakingmefrommybitterstewing.Ofallthegirlsinourgroup,I’mclosestwithHeidi,who’sprobablythemostlikeme.Withherplatinumbobandrazor-sharptongue,Heidi’satotalbadass,a.k.a.mykindofgirl.Shealsoknowsmefartoowell
“Youaliveinthere?”sheadds,eyeingmewithsuspicion.
Ianswerwithahalf-heartedsmile,orderingmyselftobemorepresent.AlthoughwetextedoftenwhenIwasgone,Ihaven’thungoutwithmyfriendsinages.
“Sorry,”Isaysheepishly.Istabattheiceinmyvirgincocktailwithastraw.Nightslikethis,Icouldusearealdrink.
“Yousureyoudon’twantsomethingstronger?”Alanaasks,temptinglyholdingoutherglassoftequilawithjustthelightestmistoflimeandsimplesyrup.
“Leaveheralone.”Steph,everthedefenderoftheweak,throwsherselfbetweenmeandpeerpressure.“Youknowifshehasadrinktheconventwon’ttakeherback.”
Okay,sosheisn’tallthatnice.
“Yes,SisterGenevieve,”Heidisayswithasarcasticsmirk,speakingslowlylikeI’manexchangestudentorsomething.AnattemptatacrackonhowlongI’vebeenaway.“Itmustbeoverwhelmingwithalltheselightsandloudmusic.Doyouremembermusic?”
“ImovedtoCharleston,”Itellher,throwingupmymiddlefinger.“NotAmishcountry.”
“Right.”Alanatakesanothersipofherdrink,andthesalty-sweetsmellreallydoesmakemethirsty.“ThenotoriousdrycityofCharleston.”
“Yeah,no,that’sfunny,”Isaytotheirteasing.“You’rehilarious.”
Theydon’tgetit.Notreally.AndIdon’tblamethem.Thesegirlshavebeenmybestfriendssincewewerekids,sotothemthere’sneverbeenanythingwrongwithme.Buttherewas.AnuncontrollabledestructivestreakthatdrovemyeverydecisionwhenIwasdrinking.Iwasn’tmakinggooddecisions.Couldn’tfindthemiddlegroundbetweenmoderationandobliteration.OtherthanaregrettablelapselastmonthonatriptoFloridawhereIwokeupinastranger’sbed,I’vekeptprettywelltosobriety.Notwithouteffort,though.
“Thenhere’stoGen.”Heidiraisesherglass.“Whomayhaveforgottenhowtohaveagoodtime,butwe’lltakeherbackanyway.”
Heidi’salwaysbeengoodforabackhandedcompliment.It’sherlovelanguage.Ifshe’snotinsultingyouatleastalittle,youmightaswellbedeadtoher.Iappreciatethatabouther,becausethere’sneveranyconfusionaboutwhereshestands.It’sanhonestwaytolive.
Butshethrowsmeforaloopbysofteninghertoneagain.“Welcomehome,Gen.Ireallydidmissyou.”Then,asifrealizingshe’dactually—gasp—revealedasliverofemotion,shescowlsatme,adding,“Don’teverleaveusagain,bitch.”
Ihideasmile.“I’lltrynotto.”
“Welcomehome,”StephandAlanaecho,raisingtheirglasses.
“Sofillmein,”Isay,becauseI’dlovetotalkaboutliterallyanythingelse.Betweenthefuneralandmovingbackhome,allanyonedoesisaskmehowI’mdoing.I’msickofmyself.“Whatelseisgoingon?”
“Alana’sbangingTate,”Stephspitsoutwithtoomuchenthusiasm,asifthedeclarationhasbeennervouslypacinginthewingsallnight,waitingforitsentrance.WhileHeidiandAlanaarenotoriouslytight-lipped,Steph’sahugegossipandhasbeensincewewerekids.Shegetsoffonthedrama,solongasitdoesn’tinvolveher.
“Jesus,Steph.”Alanathrowsacardboardcoasterather.“Sayitalittlelouder.”
“What?It’strue.”Stephsipsherdrinkwithanunrepentantsparkleinhereyes.
“How’dthathappen?”Iaskcuriously.OurfriendTategetsaround,toputitmildly.Evenamongthemorepromiscuousinourwidercircleoffriends,he’snotorious.He’snotusuallythetypeAlanagoesfor.She’s…well,particular,isawayofputtingit.
Alanashrugsinresponse.“Darndestthing.Iwasstumblingaroundinthedarkonenightand,whaddyaknow,Itrippedandfellonhisdick.”
Interesting.Tistheseasonforsummerhookups.Goodforher,Iguess.
Heidirollshereyes,unamusedwithAlana’sevasiveness.“Morelikehookingupsincelastfall.”
Iraiseaneyebrow.Sincelastfall?I’dneverknowneitherofthemtobeinterestedinlongterm.“Soisthisathing,or…?”
Shegivesanothernoncommittalheadtiltthatfailstoconvince.“Anirregularoccurrenceofone-nightstands.Oftheextremelysporadicsort.”
“Thenthere’sWyatt,”Stephaddslikeshe’ssittingonasecret,alldumbsmilesandarchedeyebrows.
“Wyatt?”Iechoinsurprise.ThisrevelationisevenmorebafflingthantheTateone.“WhataboutRen?”
“Youknowhowthey’vebeendoingtheon-again/off-againdanceforlikethreeyears?Dumpingeachothereveryotherweek?Well,itfinallybackfired,”Heidirevealswithasmirk.“Shedumpedhimoversomethingstupid,andhemovedon.”
Wow.Idefinitelydidn’tseethatcoming.LaurenandWyattweresimilartomeandEvaninthatway,constantlybreakingupandmakingup,butIneverexpectedthemtoenditforgood.
“Andyoumovedinonhim?”Idemand,turningtoAlana.“Ren’sourfriend—isn’tthatagainstgirlcode?”
“Ididn’tmoveinonhim.”Alanahuffsatthesuggestion.“We’renothookingup,nomatterwhatthisonethinks—”SheglaresatSteph.“Forsomeludicrousreason,he’sdecidedhehasathingforme.”Sheflipshercopper-coloredhairoveroneshoulder,lookingannoyed.“I’mtryingtoshutitdown,okay?”
Takingpityonher,Iswiftlychangethesubject.“CatchmeuponCooperandthenewgirl,”ItellHeidi.Itwasn’tsolongagoHeidiwasdoingthe“willthey,won’tthey”dancewithCoop.Intheircase,however,thefriendswithbenefitsarrangementblewupinherface.“What’sherdeal?”
“Mackenzie,”shereplies,withoutthehintofirritationthathadatonepointtingedheroccasionaltextstocomplainaboutCooperandhisnewrichgirlfriend.“Garnetdropout.Basicallywalkedoutonherparentsandletthemcutheroff.”
“Itwasawholething,”Stephagrees.“Oh,andsheboughttheoldboardwalkhotel.TheBeacon.She’sbeenrestoringittoreopensoon.”
Damn.Sheisloaded.Mustbenice.Me,I’dsettleforhavinganykindofdirectionaboutwhatI’mdoingwithmylife.Fillingoutspreadsheetsandchasingdownmybrothersforinvoicesisn’texactlymylifelongdream.AndasmuchasIappreciateeverythingmydad’sbuilttosupportus,thefamilybusinessfeelsmorelikeatrapthananopportunity.Itisn’tme.ThoughhellifIknowwhatis.
“She’sactuallykindofcool,”Heidisays,albeitgrudgingly.“Iwasn’tafanatfirst.Butthey’regoodtogether,andCoop’susuallyinabettermoodsinceshe’sbeenaround,sothat’ssomething.”
Could’vefooledme.Whateverthisgirl’seffectonhim,itisn’tfoolproof.
“What’sthatlook?”Alanaasks.
“HesortofaccostedmewhenIwasleavingwork.”
“Hewhat?”Heidi’sevidentalarmsnapsherupright.
Itsoundsstupidtosayoutloud.Cooper’sgotareputationforbeingabitofahellion,buthe’seasilythetameroftheHartleytwins.Scoldingmeinaparkinglotstillfeelswildlyoutofcharacterforhim.Thenagain,wherehisbrother’sconcerned,he’salwayshadashortfuse.Evanhasthateffectonpeople.
“Yeah,Idon’tknow,”Itellthem.“HeallbutthreatenedmetostayawayfromEvan.Saidhedoesn’tconsidermeafriendanymoreafterthewayIhurthisbrother.”
“Harsh,”Stephsayswithsympathy.
“Iguesshehasapointaboutthatpart.”Ipretendtobeunbothered,shrugging.“ButhealsoblamedmeforEvanbeingoutofcontrol,whichisn’texactlyfair.Evan’sagrownman.He’sresponsibleforhisownactions.”
Alanalooksawaylikeshe’sgotsomethingtosay.
Inarrowmyeyes.“Whatisit?”
“No,nothing.”Sheshakesherhead,butthere’sclearlymoreshe’sreluctanttoelaborateon.Whenthethreeofuspressherwithsilence,shefinallyrelents.“It’sjust,ImeanEvanwentandgottheshitkickedoutofhimtomakeyoujealous.SeemslikethekindofthingCooperwouldnoticeanddisapproveof.”
“Soyou’retakinghisside,then?It’sallmyfault?”
“No.AllI’msayingis,thewayCooperthinks,he’sgoingtolookatthatandyoushowingupasabadomenofthingstocome.Let’sbehonest,he’salwaysbeenterribleatkeepingEvaninline.Heprobablythinksifhecanscareyouoff,it’llmakeeverythingeasier.”
“That’sacrappythingtodo,”Stephsays.
“Hey,I’mjustguessing.”Alanafinishesherdrinkanddropsherglassonthetable.“Anotherround?”
Everyonenods,andsheandStephleaveforapitstopattherestroombeforeputtinginanorderforroundtwo.
Afterdrainingthelastofherdrink,Heidieyesmewarilyandmakesanuneasyentreaty.“So,listen.Thisisawkward,but,um,youknowJayandIaresortofdating.”
Myeyeswiden.“JayasinmybrotherJay?”
“Yeah.”
“Um.No.Ididnot.”
“Yeah,well,it’snew-ish.Honestly,he’dbeenchasingmeforadatesincethefall,butIwasn’tsureitwasagoodidea.Hefinallybrokemedownacouplemonthsago.Iwantedtomakesureyou’recoolwithit.Idon’twantthingstobeweirdwithus.”
What’sweirdisseeingHeidisquirm.Hardlyanythingpenetratesherdon’t-mess-with-meexteriororputsheronthedefensive.She’dspookabullshark.Soit’scute,Iguess,thatshewantstoaskmypermissiontodatemyolderbrother.
“Youwantmyblessing,isthatit?”Itease,suckingairfromthebottomofmyglassofmostlyicemeltwhileImakeherwait.“Yeah,it’sfine.ThistownissosmallitwasonlyamatteroftimebeforeoneofyouendedupwithaWestbrother.I’mjustsurprisedit’sJay.”
Jay’sthesweetestofmybrothers.Well,afterCraig,anyway,butCraigdoesn’tcountbecauseheliterallyjustgraduatedhighschool.Jayistwenty-fouranddoesn’thaveameanboneinhissoftiebody.He’salmostthecompleteoppositeofHeidi,who’sallsharpedges.
“Trustme,I’mequallysurprised,”shesaysdryly,runningahandthroughherblondebob.“Iswear,I’venevergoneoutwithanyonesodamnnice.Like,what’shisproblem?”
Iburstoutlaughing.“Right?”
“Theothernightwewereonourwaytothedrive-inandhepulledovertohelpalittleoldladycrossthestreet.Whothefuckdoesthat?”
“Pleasedon’ttellmeyouscrewedmybrotheratthedrive-in.”
“Okay,Iwon’ttellyou.”
“OhGod.Iwalkedrightintothatone,huh?”
“Uh,hithere,Genevieve,”amalevoiceinterrupts.
HeidiandIturnasacheerfullynervousguyarrivesatourtable,dressedinashort-sleevedbutton-downshirtandkhakipants.He’scute,inaBoyScoutsortofway,withbrownhairandfreckles.Ifitweren’tforavaguefeelingIrecognizehim,I’dsayhewasatouristwhogotlostandstumbledawayfromtheboardwalk.
“I’mHarrisonGates,”hesays.“Wewenttohighschooltogether.”
“Oh,sure,right.”Thenamebarelynudgesmymemory,butnowthathe’splacedhisfaceforme,hedoesseemfamiliar.“How’sitgoing?”
“Good.”HedirectsasmileatHeidiaswell,buthisgazeremainsfocusedonme.“Idon’tmeantobotheryou.Ijustwantedtooffermycondolencesaboutyourmom.”
“Thankyou,”Itellhimsincerely.Whatevermymixedfeelingsaboutherdeath,thenicepartaboutcominghometoasmalltownisthatpeopledogenerallygiveadamn.Evenpeoplewhowouldhavesoonerrunmeoverwiththeircarafewyearsagohavecomeuptosayafewkindwords.It’swhatyoudo.“Iappreciatethat.”
“Yeah.”Hissmilegrowslargerandsomewhatlessanxiousashisposturerelaxes.“And,youknow,Iwantedtosaywelcomeback.”
Heidigivesmealookthatappearstobeawarningtobail,butIdon’tunderstandheralarm.Harrisonseemsniceenough.
“Sowhatareyouuptothesedays?”Iask,becauseitseemsrudenottotalktotheguyforaminute,atleast.
“Well,IjustjoinedtheAvalonBaySheriff’sDepartment,ifyoucanbelieveit.Stillsoundsweirdtosayitoutloud.”
“Really?Huh.Youseemtoonicetobeacop.”
Helaughs.“Ihearthatalot,actually.”
Evenbeforetheincidentlastyear,I’dhadplentyofunfortunaterun-inswiththelocalpolice.Whenwewerekids,itseemedtheyhadnothingbettertodothantofollowusaroundtownharassingus.Itwasasportforthem.Theschoolbulliesbutwithgunsandbadges.ThatassholeRustyRandallbeingthebiggestbullyofthemall.
“Watchoutwiththisone,Rookie.She’smoretroublethanshe’sworth.”
Asifheheardmecursinghiminmyhead,auniformedDeputyRandallsauntersupandslapsahandonHarrison’sshoulder.
Myentirebodyinstantlygoesice-cold.
HeidisnapsacomebackathimthatIdon’treallyhearabovethedeafeningfuryscreamingthroughmyskull.Myteethdigintotheinsideofmycheektokeepmefromspoutingoffatthemouth.
“Ifyoudon’tmind,”RandallsaystoHarrison,“Ineedamomentofhertime.”
He’sgainedweightsinceIlastsawhim.Lostalotmorehair.Whereheusedtohidehistrueselfbehindafriendlysmileandawave,nowhisfaceiscontortedinapermanentscowlofresentmentandmalice.
“Youknowwhat,we’realittlebusyhere,”Heidisays,cockingherheadathiminawaythatbegsafight.“Butifyou’dliketomakeanappointment,maybewe’llgetbacktoyou.”
“WasthatyourcarIsawparkedacrossthestreet?”heasksmeinamockingtone.“MaybeIoughttorunthetagforunpaidtickets.”EvenHarrisonseemsuncomfortableatRandall’sthreat,eyeingmewithconfusion.“Whatdoyousay,Genevieve?”
“It’sfine,”Iinterjectbeforethisgetsoutofhand.Heidi’slookinglikeshe’sabouttoflipatable.AndpoorHarrison.Hereallyhasnoideawhathe’ssteppedin.“Let’stalk,DeputyRandall.”
Whatmorecanhereallydotome,afterall?CHAPTER7
GENEVIEVE
I’dalwayshadabadfeelingaboutRustyRandall.WhenIusedtobabysithisfourkidsbackinhighschool,hewouldsaythings—littleoffhandedcommentsthatmademeuncomfortable.ButIneversaidanythingback,preferringthemoneyandfiguringIonlyeverhadtoseehimforafewminutescomingandgoing,soitwasn’tabigdeal.Untilthatnightlastyear.
SomefriendsandIhadgoneouttoabarontheoutskirtsoftown.Weknewitwasacophangout,butafteracouplehoursofpre-partying,Alanahadgotteninherheaditwouldbeahoot.Inhindsight,itwasnotoneofherbetterideas.WewereknockingbacktequilashotsandrumrunnerswhenRandallsliduptoourtable.Hewasbuyingourdrinks,whichwasfine.Thenhestartedgettinghandsy.Whichwasn’t.
Now,outsideJoe’s,DeputyRandallleansagainstthecruiserparkedatthecurb.Idon’tknowwhatitisaboutcopsrestingtheirhandsontheirequipmentbelts,fingersalwaysflirtingwiththeirweapons,thatincitesaninstinctualrageinme.MynailsdigintothefleshofmypalmsasIbracemyselfforwhatcomesnext.I’mcarefultostayinthelightofastreetlampwherepeoplefromthebar’sentrancearestillvisible.
“Sohere’showitis,”Randallsays,talkingdownhisnoseatme.“You’renotwelcomebackhere.Longasyou’reintown,youstaythehellawayfrommeandmyfamily.”
Nothisfamilyanymore,thewayIheardit.ButIbitebackthesnarkyremark,alongwiththerushofscornthatrisesinmythroat.Hehasnorighttospeaktomeinthattoneofdisgust,notafterthewayhebehavedlastyear.
Wewereadmittedlywastedthatnightbackthen,thegirlsandme,whileRustykepttryingtotalkmeintogoingouttohiscarwithhimandfoolingaroundintheparkinglot.Iwasgentle,atfirst.Laughingitoffandmakingmywayaroundtheroomtoavoidhim.Clingingtothegirlsbecausetherewassafetyinnumbers.Untilhecorneredmeagainstthejukebox,triedtoslatherhismouthonmine,andjammedhishandupmyshirt.Ishovedhimawayandtoldhim,loudenoughforthewholebartohear,tofuckoff.Thankfully,he’dleft,albeitcrankyanddissatisfied.
Thatcouldhavebeentheendofit.Icouldhavegonebacktomyfriendsandletitgo.Certainlywasn’tthefirsttimeI’dbeenhitonbyanoveraggressiveolderman.Butsomethingabouttheencounterhadstungmerighttothebone.Iwaspissed.Fuming.Absolutelyirate.Longafterhe’dgone,IsattherestewingovertheencounterandallthewaysIshouldhavestuckmyfootinhisgroinandrammedtheheelofmypalmintohisthroat.Ikeptthrowingdownshots.EventuallyStephandAlanaleft,anditwasjustmeandmyfriendTrina,who’sprobablytheonlypersoninouroldcircleoffriendswhohadmebeatforwildinstincts.Shewasn’treadytoletwhatRandalldidgoandsaidneithershouldI.Whathedidwaswrong,anditwasmyresponsibilitytonotlethimgetawaywithit.
Infrontofmenow,Randallstandsupstraight,bearingdownonme.Ibackupontothesidewalk,glancingaroundformybestexit.Frankly,Ihavenoideawhatthismaniscapableof,soIassumeeverything.
“Look,”Isay.“IownthatIactedcrazybyshowingupatyourhousethewayIdid.Butthatdoesn’tchangethefactthatyoufeltmeupinabarafterIspentthewholenighttryingtogetawayfromyou.FarasI’mconcerned,it’syouwhoneedsaremindertokeephisdistance.I’mnottheonelookingforaconfrontation.”
“Youbetterkeepyourheaddown,girl,”hewarns,growlingatmewithawet,phlegmyvoicefullofimpotentanger.He’sgettingoffonthepowertrip.“Noneofthatpartyingbullshit.Icatchyouwithdrugs,you’regonnafindyourselfinthebackofthiscar.Somuchassnifftroublearoundyou,you’regoingtojail.Hearme?”
He’sachingforareason,theslightestprovocationtonailme.Toobadforhim,IleftthatGenevievebehindalongtimeago.Fromthecornerofmyeye,IspotHeidiandthegirlsstandingattheentrancetothebar,waitingforme.
“Wedonehere?”Iask,keepingmychinup.I’dwalkintotrafficbeforegivingRandallthesatisfactionofknowinghisthreatsaffectme.“Good.”
Iwalkoff.Whenthegirlsask,Ijusttellthemtowatchtheirbacks.Whereverwearethissummer,whateverwedo,it’sasurethinghe’llbewatching.Bidinghistime.
I’mnotabouttoplayhisgame.
Later,athome,Ilieinbedstillrigidwithanger.There’stensiontuggingatthemusclesinmyneck.Athrobbingpressurepushingagainstmyeyeballs.Ican’tbestill.Sothat’show,atnearlymidnight,Ifindmyselfsittingontheflooratmycloset,surroundedbyboxes,yearbooks,andphotoalbums,takingawalkdownmemorylane.Anill-advisedwalk,becausethefirstpictureinthefirstalbumIopen?OneofmeandEvan.We’reeighteen,maybenineteen,standingonthebeachatsunset.Evanhasbotharmswrappedaroundmefrombehind,onehandholdingabottleofbeer.I’minaredbikini,restingmyheadagainsthisbroad,shirtlesschest.We’rebothsmilinghappily.
Ibitemylip,tryinghardtofendoffthememoriesattemptingtobattheirwayintomybrain.Buttheybarrelthroughmymentaldefenses.Irememberthatdayonthebeach.Wewatchedthesunsetwithourfriends,thentookoffalone,walkinginthewarmsandtowardEvan’shousewherewelockedourselvesinhisbedroomanddidn’tcomeouttillthenextafternoon.
Anotherpicture,thisoneatsomepartyatSteph’shouse,andthistimewe’resixteenyearsold.Iknowit’ssixteenbecausethoseawfulblondehighlightsinmyhairhadbeenabirthdaypresentfromHeidi.Ilookridiculous.Butyouwouldn’tknowitfromthewayEvanisstaringatme.Idon’tknowwhotookthephoto,buttheymanagedtocaptureinhisexpressionwhatIcanonlydescribeasadoration.Ilookequallysmitten.
Ifindmyselfsmilingatouryoung,besottedselves.Itwasn’tlongafterthatpartythathetoldmehelovedmeforthefirsttime.Wewerehangingoutinmybackyardfloatingonourbacksinthepool,engagedinaprettyseriousconversationabouthowmuchwewishedourmothersgaveashitaboutus,whenhesuddenlycutmeoffmid-sentenceandsaid,“Hey,Genevieve?Iloveyou.”
AndI’dbeensostartledtohearhimuttermyfullnameandnotFred,thedumbnicknamewhoseoriginsIdon’tevenremember,thatIsanklikeastone.Ididn’tevenregisterthesecondpartofthatstatementuntilIcameuptothesurface,eyesstinging,coughingupwater.
Hisindignantexpressionhadgreetedme.“Seriously?ItellyouIloveyouandyoutrytodrownyourself?Whatthehell?”
WhichmademelaughsohardIpeedmyselfalittleandthenstupidlyconfessedtopeeingalittle,atwhichpointheswamtotheladderandheavedhiswetbodyoutofthepool.He’dthrownhishandsupinexasperationandgrowled,“ForgetIsaidanything!”
Laughterticklesmythroat.I’mhalfasecondawayfromtextinghimtoaskifheremembersthatdaywhenIrealizeI’msupposedtobekeepingmydistance.
Myphonebuzzesbesideme.
Aglanceatittriggersananguishedgroan.Howdoeshedoit?HowdoeshealwaysknowwhenI’mthinkingabouthim?
Evan:I’msorryabouttheothernight.
Evan:Iwasanidiot.
IsittherestaringatthetextsuntilIrealizeallthetensionI’dbeenfeelingovermyrun-inwithRandall,alltheangerandshame,hasdissipated.Myshouldersarelimp,theten-tonboulderonmychestfinallyremoved.Evenmyheadachehassubsided.Ihatethathecanstilldothattoo.
Me:Yesyouwere.
Evan:IthinkI’vestillgotsandinmyeye,ifthatmakesyoufeelbetter.
Me:Alittle.
There’salongdelay,nearlyafullminutebeforeIseehimtypingagain.Thelittlegraybubblesappear,thendisappear,thenreappear.
Evan:Missedyou.
AlreadyIfeelthetug,thoseoldtiespullingmebacktoaplaceIsworeIwouldn’tgoagain.Backslidingwouldbesoeasy.Makingapromisetomyselfandactuallykeepingitthistimeismuchharder.
Itisn’thisfault—Evandidn’tmakemethisway.Foronce,though,I’mchoosingme.
Me:Missedyoutoo.Butthatdoesn’tchangeanything.ImeantwhatIsaid.
ThenIshutoffmyphonebeforehecanrespond.
Althoughitbringsanunbearableachetomychest,Iforcemyselftolookthroughtherestofthealbumsandpilesofloosephotos.Ourentirerelationshipplaysoutinscenespreservedinsingleperfectmoments.
Youtoremybrother’sheartoutandtookoffwithoutevenagoodbye.Whatkindofcold-asspersondoesthat?Youhaveanyideawhatthatdidtohim?
Cooper’swords,hisaccusations,buzzaroundinmyhead,makingmyheartsqueezepainfully.He’sright—Ididn’tsaygoodbyetoEvan.Butthat’sbecauseIcouldn’t.IfIhad,Iknowhewouldhavesucceededinconvincingmetostay.I’veneverbeenabletosaynotoEvan.SoIleftwithoutalertinghim.Withoutlookingback.
It’spastonea.m.whenIfinallyshovethephotosintheirboxesandslidethemtothebackoftheclosetunderclothesandoldshoes.
Onlydeadthingspineforthepast.Sadthings.Imightbesad,butI’mnotdead.AndIintendtolivewhileIstillcan.CHAPTER8
EVAN
CooperandMacarealreadysittingdowninthekitchenwithUncleLeviwhenIwalkthroughthedooronSundaynight.TheplansforMac’shotelarespreadoutonthetable.Shehasherlaptopopen,hunchedoverthekeyboardwhilegnawingonapen.Daisyistheonlyonetoacknowledgeme,runninguptoclimbmylegasIkickoffmyshoes.
“Hey,prettygirl,”Icooattheexcitedpuppy.
“You’relate,”Cooperinformsme.
“Istoppedtopickupdinner.”IdropthebagsofChinesetakeoutonthecounter.Mybrotherdoesn’teventurnhisheadfromtheblueprints.“No,don’tsweatit.Mypleasure.”
“Thankyou,”Macsaysoverhershoulder.“Noegginthefriedrice,right?”
“Yes,Iremembered.”Forfuck’ssake,it’slikeI’mthedamnhelparoundhere.
“Leavethat,”Levisays.“Comehere.Weneedtotalkaboutnextweek.”
Leviisourdad’sbrother.HetookusinafterDaddiedinadrunkdrivingaccidentwhenwewerelittleandraiseduswhenourmomcouldn’tbebotheredtocare.Ouruncle’stheonlyrealfamilyCooperandIhaveleft,andalthoughitwasdifficulttobondwithhimgrowingup—he’sthegruff,quiettypewhoseideaofspendingqualitytimetogetherissittingsilentlyinthesameroom—thethreeofushavegottencloserlately.
He’sbeenrunninghisownconstructionbusinessforyears.AndaftertherecenthurricanesthatravagedAvalonBay,he’sbeenflushwithmorerenovationanddemolitionworkthanhecanhandle.SinceLevimadeCooperandIpartnersinthebusinessnottoolongago,we’vegotahellofalotmoreonourplatestoo.
OurbiggestandmostpressinggigisTheBeacon,theoldlandmarkhotelontheboardwalkthatMacboughtseveralmonthsago.ThehotelhadbeenguttedfromthestormandsatabandonedforacoupleyearsuntilMacimpulsivelydecidedtofixitup.Herfamilyisdisgustinglywealthy,butshe’dpurchasedTheBeaconwithherownmoney—Ionlyrecentlyfoundoutthatshe’dmademillionsrunningherownwebsitesthatpostcheesyrelationshipstuff.
“GotacallfromRonanWest,”Leviissaying.“Heneedssomerenovationsonhishousebeforeheputsitupforsale.Sothatmeansweneedtosplitoneofyoutorunacrewoutthere.”
“Letoneoftheguysdoit,”Coopersays,coppinganattitudeatthementionofGen’sdad.BecauseCoop’sadamnchild.“Idon’twantthingsslippingatthehotelbecauseweleavesomeoneelseinchargeoverthere.”
We’reinthefinalstagesoftherenovationatMac’shotel,whichissupposedtohaveasoftopeningafewmonthsfromnowinSeptember.Theideabeing:She’llbringinaselectguestlisttofeeltheplaceoutandbuildupareputationforthespathroughthewinterseason,thenholdthegrandopeninginthespring.
“Ronan’safriend,”Levicounters.“Ican’tsendsomeknuckleheadtohim.Iwanttoknowhe’stakencareofright.”
“I’lldoit,”Ioffer.
“Ofcourse.”Coopersayswithanexasperatedsigh.“Idon’tthinkthat’sagoodidea.”
“Nooneaskedyou.”Starved,Iedgeawayfromthetabletograboneoftheboxesoflomeinanddigin.
“We’vegotagoodhandleonthehotel.”Maceyesmylomein,thengetsherboxoffriedriceandhopsuponthecountertoeat.“Shouldn’tbeaproblem.”
Coopershootsheralookforcontradictinghim,butshejustshrugs.MaybethebestpartofhavingMacaroundisthatshelovestowindmybrotherup.Whichusuallymeanstakingmysideinanargument.
“You’reagluttonforpunishment.”Coopershakeshisheadatme.
MaybeIam,buthedoesn’tunderstandGenlikeIdo.Sure,we’vehadourtoxicmoments,thefights,therecklessnights.Butthereweregreattimesaswell.Together,we’refusion.Perfectenergy.Rightnowshethinksthere’ssomerighteousatonementinkeepingourdistance,butthat’sonlybecauseshe’sletherselfforgetwhatit’slikewhenwe’reatourbest.
Isimplyhavetoremindher.Buttodothat,Ineedtogetclosetoher.
“Hey.”Levidemandsmyattention.“Yousureyoucankeepitprofessional?Idon’twantyouactinglikeafoolovertherewhileyou’reonthejob.WemightbeHartleyandSonsnow,butthat’sstillmynameonthebusinesscard.”
“Don’tworry,”Ipromisethroughamouthfulofnoodles.“Igotthis.”
Coopersighs.
OnMondayafternoon,LeviandIpulluptotheWesthouse.RonanhaddroppedoffakeyatLevi’sthismorningsowecouldletourselvesintohavealookaround.Thepurposeoftoday’svisitistowalkthepropertyandcomeupwithatasklistofanythingthatneedsreplacing,fixing,painting.Ronan’sleftituptoLevitogivehimhisopinionandapricequoteforwhathethinksitwilltaketogetthebestofferwhenitgoesonthemarket.Aftertwenty-someyearsandsixkids,theramblingtwo-storyhousehasdefinitelyseenbetterdays.
Itisalittleoddbeingbackhereunderthecircumstances.EvenweirdertobewalkingthroughthefrontdoorafterallthosetimesGenandIgotcaughtsneakinginoroutthroughherwindow.Anddon’tgetmestartedonallthepoolpartieswethrewwhenGen’sparentswereaway.
MyuncleandIconductasweepoftheinteriorfirst,scribblingonourclipboardsaswepointoutvariousissuesthatjumpoutatus.Wescopeouttheexteriornext,lookingatthesidingthatneedsreplacinganddecidingthewobblywoodenfencearoundthebackyardprobablywarrantsaPVCupgrade.Looksbetterandiseasiertomaintain.Aftersomemoreclipboardnotes,weletourselvesthroughthegatetocheckoutthepooland—holysweetJesus.
IcomeupshortatthesightofGentanningononeoftheloungechairs.
Topless.
Killme.
“Ithoughttheystoppedmakingpornoslikethisinthenineties,”Idrawl,gettinganirritatedgrumbleinresponsefromLevi.
Totallyunbothered,Genrollsontoherside,lookinglikeaswimsuitmodelwithherlonglegsandoiledskinglowingunderthesun.Thoseastounding,perkybreastsarepointingrightatme.NotasthoughI’dforgottenwhattheylooklike,butthesightofherinjusttinybikinibottomsandsunglassesgetsmereminiscingaboutoldtimes.
“Youdon’tknockanymore?”Gensays,thenreachesforaglassofwater.
“DidIever?”Mygazekeepsflittingbacktoherperfectrack.It’stakingallmywitstoremembermyuncleisstandingnexttome.
“Your,uh,dadaskedusovertogivehimaquotefortherenovation,”Levianswers,staringuncomfortablyattheground.“Hedidn’tsayanyonewouldbehere.”
Istiflealaugh.“Comeon,Gen,putthosethingsaway.You’regonnagivethepoormanastroke.”
“Aw,Levi’snotinterestedinanythingI’vegot,anyway.”Shesitsup,reachingforherbikinitop.“How’sTimdoing?”sheasksLevi.
Hegruntsouta,“Yeah,good,”whilestilldiligentlyavertinghiseyes.Myuncledoesn’ttalkmuchabouthislong-timepartner,whoworksfromhomeasaneditorforacademicjournals.Levipreferstokeeptheirpersonallifeprivate.Itwasn’talwayseasyforhimbeingagaymaninthistown,andIthinkhefindsitsimplertoletmostpeoplebelievewhattheywant.Evenamonghisfriendsthatknow,theydon’taskaboutit.Asacouple,heandTimdon’ttendtogooutmuchonaccountofthelatterbeingsortofarecluse.Theylikethingsquiet,thosetwo.Itsuitsthem,Isuppose.
“Whatareyoudoinghome?”IaskGen.Iheardherdadhadherworkingatthestoneyard.
“We’reopenonSundays,”shesays,coveringherchestwithherforearmassheuntanglesthestringsofhertop.“SowegetMondaysoff.Youguysneedanythingfromme?”
Levifindshisvoicewhiledutifullylookingathisclipboard.“IsRonangoingtowantanylandscapingbackhere?”
Genshrugs.“Noidea.”
Relieved,hetakestheexcusetogoinsideandcallRonan,leavingmealonewithGen.
Afteramomentofnoticeablereluctance,sheshiftsinherchair.“Tiemeup?”Holdinghertoptoherchest,sheturnsherbacktome.
“Or…wecouldleaveitoff.”
“Evan.”
“You’renofun.”Isitattheedgeofherloungerandreachforherbikinistrings.I’vehadworsejobs.
“Doesthishappentoyoualot?Catchingcougarsandrichcollegegirlsinvariousstatesofundress?”Hertoneisdry.
“Thisisexactlyhoweveryoneoftheseprojectsstart,”Isaysolemnly,tyingthethinstringsofherbikini.“FirsttimeI’vehadahard-oninfrontofmyuncle,though,sothat’sawholenewleveloffamilytrauma.”
“Youcouldhavewarnedme,”sheaccuses,turningtofacemeonceshe’sadjustedherself.“Droppinginwithoutnoticewassneakyonyourpart.”
“Ididn’tknowyou’dbehere,”Iremindher.“Iwasplanningtohelpmyselftosomeunderwearandbeonmyway.”
Genjustsighs.
“Youknow,thiswholetoplessschemeofyours—”
“Scheme?Ididn’tknowyouwerecoming,”sheprotests.
Iignorethat.“Remindsmeofthatfieldtripsenioryear,”Ifinish,notevenpretendingI’mnotwatchingthelittlebeadsofcondensationthatfalloffherwaterglassandtraveldownherchestasshetakesasip.
“Whatfieldtrip?”
“Don’tplaydumb.YouknowexactlywhatI’mtalkingabout.”Thattripwasprettydamnunforgettable.
Herlipscurveslightlybeforeflatteninginatightline.“Howaboutwedon’tgothere?”shesayswithanothersigh.
“Gowhere?”Iblinkinnocently.“Theaquarium?”
“Evan.”
“Itwasrainingthatday.YouweremadatmebecauseyousaidIwasflirtingwithJessicainmathclass,soyoushowedupthenextdayforthefieldtripinawhitetanktopwithnobratothrowyourselfatAndyWhat’s-his-face.Sowegetoffthebusintherain,andtheneveryone’scatchinganeyefulofyourtwins.”
There’salongbeat,duringwhichIcanseeherresolvecrumbling.
“YoustolemeaT-shirtfromthegiftshop,”shesaysgrudgingly.
Ihideasmileofsatisfaction.Soeasytogethertojoinmeonthistripdownmemorylane.“BecauseIwouldhavehadtobreakAndyFuckFace’snoseforstaringatyourtitsthewholetrip.”
Again,shepauses.Then,“MaybeIthoughtitwashotwhenyougotjealous.”
Mysmilebreaksfree.“Speakingofjealous…”
Herexpressiongoescloudy.“What?”
“Isawthemurderinyoureyesatthebonfiretheothernight.”Whenshedoesn’ttakethebait,Itossoutanotherlure.“Youknow,whenIwastalkingtothatcollegechick.”
“Talking?”sheechoesdarkly.Afamiliarhintofmurderglintsinhereyesbeforeherlipsquicklycurlinannoyance—directedatherself.
IknowGenevieve,andrightnowshe’skickingherselfforshowingweakness.So,asexpected,shedeflects.
“You’rereferringtothegirlwhoseboyfriendbeatyouup?”Genflashesasaccharinesmile.“Theonewhoonlypretendedshewantedtogetwithyoutomakehermanjealous?”
“One,you’renotallowedtolookthatgleefulattheideaofsomeonebeatingmeup.Two,Ididn’tgetbeatup—thatdude’screwhadtocarryhimaway,incaseyoudidn’tnotice.Andthree,ifI’dwantedtogetwithher,Iwould’vegottenwithher.”
“Uh-huh.BecausefromwhereIwasstanding,itlookedlikeyoutriedtoshootyourshotandsheleftwithherboyfriend.”
“Tried?Iwasn’ttrying.”Itipmyheadinchallenge.“Genevieve.Baby.WebothknowIhavenotroubleconvincingwomentotaketheirclothesoff.”
“Andhe’smodesttoo.”
Iwinkather.“Modestyisforguyswhodon’tgetlaid.”
I’mgratifiedtoseeherswallow.Christ.Iwanttofuckher.It’sbeensolong.Toolong.Doesn’tmatterhowmanygirlsIhookedupwithinGen’sabsence.Noonecomparestoher.Noonegetsmeashot,makesmeascrazy.
“Well,sinceseductioncomessoeasyforyou,whydon’tyouskedaddleandgofindsomeonewhowantstobeseduced?”Withabitchyflickofhereyebrows,Genpicksupherwaterandtakesanothersip.
Isnort.“Stoppretendinglikeyoudon’twanttoripmyclothesoffandfuckmeinthatpool.”
“Idon’t.”Hertoneisconfident,butIdon’tmisstheflareofheatinhereyes.
“No?”Isay,lickingmysuddenlydrylips.
“No,”sherepeats,butherconfidenceisslipping.
“Really?Notevenateeny,tinypartofyouistempted?”
Herthroatdipsasshegulpsagain.Iseeherhandtremblingslightlyassheputsdownherglass.
Ileancloser,breathingdeeply.Thesalty,sweetscentoftanningoilisrichinthehumidair.Iwanttoriphertopoffwithmyteethandwrapherhairbetweenmyfingers.Shetriestoactlikeshe’ssoaboveitall,butIcanseeherpulsethrummingonthesideofherneck,andIknowshefeelsthesameinsatiableneed.
“Meetmelater,”Isaywithoutforethoughtbutthencommittotheidea.“Ourspot.Tonight.”
She’simpassivebehindthosesilverreflectivesunglasses.Butwhenshebitesherlipandhesitatestoanswer,Iknowshe’sconsideringit.Shewantstosayyes.It’dbesoeasy.Becausewe’veneverhadtotrytobetogether,it’sjustnatural.Ourtidesalwaysflowinginthesamedirection.
Thenshepullsaway.Shestandsandwrapsatowelaroundherwaist.TheimpenetrablewallgoesupandI’mlockedontheotherside.
“Sorry,”shesayswithadismissiveshrug.“Ican’t.Ihaveadate.”CHAPTER9
GENEVIEVE
ThreehoursaftermyencounterwithEvan,I’mstillkickingmyself.Inamomentoftriumphantstupidity,mymouthranawayfromme,andnowI’vegottomaterializeadatefortonightoutofthinair.Aftertheliepoppedoutofmyfoolhardymouth,Evanwasnaturallypissed,thoughhewasdoinghisbesttoactlikeitwasnobigdeal.SometimesheforgetsIknowhimtoowell.Allhisticsandtells.So,whilepretendinghewasn’tfuminginside,he’dquizzedmeonthewhereandwhen,whichcompoundedoneliewithanother,andthenanother.ImanagedtododgeonthequestionofwhobyinsistingEvanwouldn’tknowtheguy,butIwouldn’tputitpasthimtocheckuponme,sothereinliestherub
Byeighto’clocktonight,Ineedtocomeupwithamantotakemeout.
SinceI’mnotabouttohoponTinderforafakedatetodissuademyex,IthrowuptheSOSinourgroupchat,thenendupatStephandAlana’splacetogetthebraintrusttogetheronthisone.Heidi’satwork,whichisprobablyagoodthingbecauseheradviceinthechatthreadwasutterlyuseless.Tellstupidlies,winstupidprizes,she’dtextedinhertypicalno-nonsenseway.
Ugh.Imean…she’snotwrong.
“SoyouemotionallymasturbatedtoteasingEvanwithyourboobsandthenswervedhim,”Alanasaystomyexplanationofevents.We’resittingontheirbackporchwhileItryvisualizingmysweetteawithvodkainit.“Imean,nottotakehisside,butI’dcallthatmixedsignals.”
“Idon’tthinkI’mtellingitright.Hewalkedinonme.”
Stephregardsmeinamusement.“Yeah.Butyoukindalikedit.”
“It’sfineifyoudid,”Alanatellsme,recliningontheporchswingwhilesheswaysbackandforth.“Everybody’sgotakink.”
“It’snotakink.”
Although,nowthatshe’snamedit,Isupposesheisn’tsofar-off.EvanandIhavealwayshadthistensionbetweenus.Pushingandpulling.Makingeachotherjealousandmanipulatingaresponse.It’sallpartofthebadhabitsI’mtryingtobreak.Yet,indoingso,I’mrepeatingthesteps.Newtune,sameolddance.
“It’sthebad-boydickmagic,”Alanasaysinherflatintonation,devoidofhumor.“Makesuscrazy.Itisn’tourfaultthescrewed-uponesarethebestinbed.”
Imean,shehasapoint.AndwhenitcomestoEvanHartley,it’sthemostrandomstuffthatgetsmeallmessedup.Thelittlethingsthattriggermemoriesandinviteinvoluntaryresponses.Mybodyhasbeenprogrammedtocertainstimuli.It’sinstinct.Secondnature.HelickshislipsandIstartimagininghisfacebetweenmylegs.Today,itwasthewayhishairsmelled.
Anditcertainlydidn’thelpthathetauntedmeaboutpoolsexandthenaskedmetomeethimatourspotlater.
IonlycameupwiththedateexcusebecauseIwassoclosetoacceptinghisinvitation.Becausewhatwouldbetheharminalittleconsensualsexbetweenfriends,right?Noharmatall…untilalittlesexleadstoalotofsex,andthenwe’respendingeverywakingminutetogether,startingtroubleandpickingfightsbecauseeverybitofadventureandconflictwringsafewmoredropsofadrenalineoutofeachother.
“Ican’thelpmyselfaroundhim.He’sanaddiction.Itrytostayaloof,butthenhesmilesandflirtsandcoaxesmeintoflirtingback,”Ifindmyselfconfessing.“ButifIdon’tbreakthehabit,I’llnevergetafreshstart.”
“Sowebreakthecycle,”Alanadecides.“WejusthavetofindsomeonewhoiseverythingthatEvanisn’t.Shockthesystem,sotospeak.”
“Well,thatprettymucheliminateseveryoneweknow.”ScratchingoffthelistofnamesthatareeitherhisfriendsorpeopleIcan’tstand,therearehardlyanypeopleleftinthistownwhoaren’trelatedtome.TrollingcollegebarsforarandomGarnetdweebisn’tmyideaofagoodtimeeither.
“Whataboutthatguyfromtheothernight?”Stephasks.“TheonewhoapproachedyouandHeidi.”
“Who,Harrison?”Shecan’tbeserious.
“No,that’sgood.”Alanasitsup.Herfacelightsastheschemeassemblesbehindhereyes.She’sthequeenofschemes,thisone.“That’sreallygood.”
Stephnods.“ThewayHeiditoldit,itsoundedliketheguyhadacrushonyou.”
“Buthe’s…”Iteventastesbadonmytongue.“Acop.Andhewearskhakis.Touristswearkhakis.”
“Exactly,”Alanasays,noddingherheadassheseesallthepiecescometogether.Shelandsherdeterminedgazeonme.“TheAnti-Evan.He’sperfect.”
“It’sonedate,”Stephremindsme.“GetsEvanoffyourback,andthereareworsewaystospendanightthangettingafreemealoutofaguywhohaszerochanceoftryingtogetlaid.”
Thereisthat.Andshe’sright;Harrisonwasplentynice.Asfarasdatesgo,thisonecomeswithbareminimumexpectationsandissuperlowrisk.Theworstpart,Iguess,willberunningoutofthingstotalkaboutandrealizingrightawaythatwehaveabsolutelynothingincommon.Butwe’lljustpartawkwardlyattheendofthenightandneverhavetoseeeachotheragain.Simple.AndifEvanshowsup,hetakesonelookatHarrison,decidestofeelsorryforme,andwalksawaylaughing.IcanhandlethatifitkeepsEvanatbay.
“Alright,”Iagree.“OperationBoyScoutisago.”
SinceIdon’tknowanyonewhowouldhaveacop’snumberintheirphone,andthereisnochancethatIcallapolicestationjustto,like,chat,ittakessomecreativesocialmediasleuthingtoslideintoHarrison’sDMs.HisInstagramisadorablyifnotpatheticallybland.ButIremindmyself,thismakeshimacompletelyharmlesssuitorandreinforcesthemessagethatIamreforming.Nomorebadboys.
Me:Itwasniceseeingyoutheothernight.
Me:Sorrywegotinterrupted.Dinnertonight?
It’saboldopening,butI’mawomanonamission.Andadeadline.Thankfully,Harrisonrespondswithinafewminutes.
Harrison:Thisisasurprise.Yeah,that’dbegreat.
Harrison:ShouldIpickyouuparound7?
Me:Sure.Butleavethecruiserathome.
Harrison:Copy.Seeyouthen.
There.Thatwasn’tsohard.
WhatI’vecometorealizeoverthelastyearofmymakeoveristhatchangeisachoicewemakeeveryday,athousandtimesaday.Wechoosetodothisonethingbetter.Thenthenext.Andthenext.Andtheoneafterthat.Somaybedupinganiceguyintoafakedateinordertoletmyexdowngentlyisn’texactlyputtingmeupforsainthood—butbabysteps.Thepointis,theoldmewouldn’thavebeencaughtdeadinthesameroomasHarrison.Andwhoknows,maybewewalkawayfromthisasfriends.CHAPTER10
EVAN
Shedoesthisshitonpurpose.Shelikestoknowshestillhasthepowertomesswithmyhead,danglingthepossibilitiesinfrontofmyfacejusttoyankthecarrotawayatthelastmoment.WhatI’mmoreconcernedaboutistheguy.Thisfuckingguywhothoughtit’dbeagoodideatorunuponGenevieverightundermynose.Dudebetterhavehisaffairsinorder.
Needlesstosay,I’mbuzzingwhenIgetbacktomyhouseafterwork.ButIdon’tmakeitthreestepsthroughthedoorbeforeCooperpouncesonme.
“Hey,”hecallsfromthelivingroom,whereheandMacaresittingonthecouchwatchingTV,“didyougetintouchwithSteveaboutthepipefittings?”
“What?”Ikickoffmyshoesandthrowmykeysatthesidetablewithtoomuchforce.“No,IwasoutatGen’shousewithLevi.”
“AndafterthatyouweresupposedtostopbytheofficetocallSteveabouttheorderforthehotel.Weneedthosefittingstomorrowsowecanreplacetheplumbingonthesecondfloor.”
“Soyoudoit.”Istalkintothekitchenandgrababeerfromthefridge.Daisyrushesuptowaghertailatmyfeet,morehyperthanusual.
“Ithinkshewantstogoout,”Macsays.“Mindtakingherforawalk?”
“Youstucktothecouchorsomething?”
“Whoa.”Cooperjumpstohisfeet,apparentlystillcapableofusinghislegs.“What’swiththeattitude?”
“Ijustwalkedinthedamndoorandyoutwocan’twaittensecondsbeforejumpingdownmythroat.”IflickthebottlecapintothetrashandsnapmyfingersatDaisy,whichsendsherwhimperingbacktoMac.“Meanwhile,youbothhavedonewhattoday,exactly?Insteadofbitchingaboutstuffnotgettingdone,whynotgetoffyourassesanddoityourself?”
Havingexactlynointerestinthisconversation,Iheadoutsidetothegarage.
WhatgetsmeisGendoesn’tdate.Thethoughtofherputtingonaprettydressanddoinghermakeuptositnicelyatdinnerislaughable.She’dsoonergnawoffherownarmthanmakesmalltalkoverappetizers.Sowhatisthis,someelaborateattempttoconvincemeshe’schanged?Bullshit.Gen’sthetypeofgirlwhostealsamotorcyclefromoutsideabikerbarjusttotakeajoyride.Shedoesnot,underanycircumstances,letaguypullherchairout.
Maybeshedoesnow.
Thenaggingvoiceinmyheadpokesaholeinmyconviction.Whatifprettydressesandsit-downdinnersareherthingnow?Isitsofar-fetched?MaybethegirlIknewlastyearisn’tthesameonewho—
Ibanishthethought.Because,no.Justno.IknowGenevieveWestlikethebackofmyhand.Iknowwhatexcitesher.Iknowwhatmakeshersmile,andIknowwhatbringstearstohereyes.Iknowhereverymood,andIknowthedeepestfuckingpartsofhersoul.Maybeshe’sgotherselffooled,butnotme.
Asmyheadturnsitselfover,Istripoffmyshirt,tossitaside,andstarthittingtheheavybaghangingfromtheceilinginthecornerofthegarage.Dustexplodesoffthesurfacewitheverystrikeofmyfists.Greatbillowingplumesoffinegraypowder.Thefirstfewhitsshockmynerves,slapthenoisefrommymind.Thesharp,shootingpainradiatesthroughmyhands,thenmyarms,elbows,andshoulders,untilthepaindullsandIbarelyfeelitanymore.ButIstillfeelher.Everywhere.Allthetimeandgrowingmoreinsistent.
Sheleftme.Me,who’dsleptallnightinachairbyherhospitalbedthattimeshegotaconcussionafterfallingoffatreeduringaclimbingracewithtwoofherbrothers.Me,who’dlethercryinmyarmseverytimehermommissedanimportanteventinGen’slife.
Shejustleftwithouttellingme.
No.Worse—withoutaskingmetocomewithher.
“You’renotgoingtohaveanyskinleftifyoudon’ttapethoseup.”Coopersneaksuponme.HepositionshimselfbehindthebagtoholditinplacewhileImostlyignorehimtoconcentrateonmyaim.Smallclustersofbloodhavealreadyappearedonthesyntheticleather.Idon’tcare.
WhenIdon’trespond,hepresseson
“Comeon.What’sgoingon?Somethinghappen?”
“Ifyou’regoingtotalk,youcanleave.”Ipunchthroughthebag.Pastit.Drivingmyfistsharderwitheveryswing.Thedistractiondissipateswitheveryrepetition,andasmynervesbecomedesensitizedtotheimpact,mybrainfindstheeffectswearingofftoo.
“Soit’saboutGen.”There’sasighofequalpartsdisapprovalanddisappointment,asifIcamehomewithaDonmyreportcard.It’sexhaustinghavingabrotherwhothinkshe’smydad.“Whenareyougoingtoletthatgo?Sheghostedyou,dude.Whatmoreistheretosay?”
“RememberhowmuchyouappreciatedmyinputonMaclastyear?”Iremindhim.BecauseIlearnedmylesson.WhenIwasallupinhisbusinessaboutcrossingovertothedarksidetocatchfeelingsforarichchick,hetoldmenosmallnumberoftimestogetbent.Andhewasright.“Well,same.”
“I’mjusttryingtolookoutforyou,”hesays,likesomehowI’vemissedthepoint.Then,sensingI’mquicklylosingmytoleranceforhim,Cooperchangestacks.“Comeon,let’sgetoutofhere.Goout.Takeyourmindoffeverything.”
“Pass.”WhatIfiguredoutalongtimeagoisthere’snothingthatbleachesthoughtsofGenevieveoutofmyhead.She’swovenintothefabric.Ican’tripheroutwithouttearingmyselfapart.
IcatchCooper’seyesforasecondbetweenhitstothebag.There’sunhappinessinthem.Butitisn’tuptometomakehimfeelbetter,andIdon’ttakeresponsibilityfortrying.“Youcangonow,Coop.”
Withaclenchedjaw,hestalksoutofthegarage.
Notlongafterhe’sgone,Igiveuponthebag.Myknucklesarebloody;bitsoffleshhangoffinkernels.It’sgrossasfuck.
Whenmyphonebuzzesinmypocket,Ientertainamomentofdim-wittedanticipationexpectingittobeGen,thencursetomyselfwhenIseeit’smymother.
Shelley:Heybaby.Justcheckingintoseehowyou’redoing.
Yep,mymotherisnotinmycontactslistunderMOM,butShelley.Whichspeaksvolumes.
She’sbeenmessagingmeinanattempttoresurrectourrelationshipafterCooperbrieflyhadherarrestedforstealingseveralgrandfromhimafewmonthsback.He’shaditwithhershitforalongtime,butthatwasthelastinsultforhim.Thefinalbetrayal.
Ihaven’ttoldCooperaboutthetextsyet,becauseasfarashe’sconcerned,she’sdeadtohim.AdmittingI’vebeenincontactwouldhavehimdownrightfurious.
NotthatI’msoforgivingeither.Notanymore,atleast.Foryears,Iwaswillingtogiveherthebenefitofthedoubt,evenwhenIknewshecouldn’tbetrusted.Thateveryvisitwassimplyaprecursortoanotherbrokenpromiseandanotherexitwithoutagoodbye.Ijustdon’tknowhowtoignoreher.
Sighing,Ishootaquicktextback.
Me:Allgoodhere.You?
Shelley:I’minCharleston.Washopingmaybeyou’dcomevisit?
Istareatthescreenforalongmoment.Forweeks,shehasbeeninsistingshe’sreformed.Newleafandallthat.Herlastmessagesaidshewantsachanceatreconciliation,buttheamountofchancesthiswomanhasgottenfromusiscomicalatthispoint.ThereweretimesCooperandIneededamotherwhenwewerekids.Now,wegetalongjustfinewithoutone.Hell,wegetalongbetter.Life’smuchlessstressfulwithoutapersonthatblowsintotowneveryfewmonthsoryearstospinsomebullshitaboutabigopportunityandgettingherlifetogether,andallsheneedsisaplacetostayandafewbucks,yadayada.Untilwewakeuponemorningandshe’sgoneagain.Thecoffeecanabovethefridgeempty.Cooper’sroomransacked.OrwhatevernewlowShelleydecidestosinkto.
WhenIdon’trespondrightaway,anothermessagepopsup.
Shelley:Please?Wecouldstartoffeasy.Coffee?Awalk?Whateveryouwant.
Myhesitationearnsmeanothermessage.
Shelley:Imissmysons,Evan.Please.
Igritmyteeth.Thingis,Ididn’tpackforaguilttrip.Shecan’tplaythemomcardafteryearsofnegligence
Hernextmessagenamesatimeandplace.BecausesheknowsI’mthesoftonewhenitcomestoher,andIalwayshavebeen.Shewouldn’tdarecomeatCooperlikethis.Whichisallthemoreconnivingandunfair.
Still,evenunderstandingallthis,apartofmewantstobelieveher,togiveherachancetoproveshecanbeadecentperson.Iftonooneelse,thentous.
Me:I’llthinkaboutitandgetbacktoyou.
Butreconciliationisastretchgoal.Coopisintentontakingthisgrudgetothegrave.I’msurehe’dbehappierifheneverhadtothinkaboutheragain.Forme,well,ifI’mhonestwithmyself,IguessI’mstillrawaboutthewholething.Lasttimeshewashere,sheputonagoodact,herbestperformanceyet.Shehadmemostofthewaytobelievingshe’dstickaroundandgiveitatry.Bearealmom.Asmuchasshecouldbetotwogrownmenwhobarelyknowher.
Needlesstosay,itblewupinmyfacewithCoopgettinginanotherItoldyouso
AndsinceI’mnotinthemoodforarepeatwhenIsitdownfordinnerlater,IkeepthenewsofShelleybeinginCharlestontomyself.She’stheleastofmyconcerns,anyway.ThethoughtsofGenonherdatescreammuch,muchlouderinmyhead.
WhileMacispassingmethemashedpotatoes,I’mimaginingGenlaughingoversaladsandappetizerswithsomeasshole.Cooper’stalkingshop,butI’mpicturingthisdudesizinguphowtogetGenbacktohisplacetonight.He’sthinkingaboutwhatshelookslikenaked,andwillsomesteakandlobsterbuyhimablowjobonafirstdate?
Myjaw’ssotightIcanbarelyeat.
Then,aswe’reclearingthetable,abugcrawlsinmyearasking,whatifGenactuallylikesthisbastard?Whatifshe’sfallingforhisbullshit,eatinghisgamewithaspoon?Maybesheworesomesexyoutfitwiththeintentionsofleavingitonhisbedroomfloor.Maybelatertonight,she’llbedragginghernailsdownhisback.
Inearlyputmyfistthroughthewall,curlingbothhandsoverthecountertopasIhelpMacloadthedishwasher.
AndwhathappensifGenandthisguygettogetherforreal?It’sonethingifshedatedsomeoneinCharleston,becauseIwouldn’thavetoseeit.Butshe’shomenow.Ifshefindsanewguy,I’llbeforcedtowatchthemwalkaround,rubbingitinmyfacewhileI’matwork,fixingupherdad’shouse?Walkinginontheminthekitchensuddenlytryingtoactchillwiththatflushonherfacethatsaysshejusthadhisfingersinsideher?Oh,hellno.I’denduptakingahammertohishand.
“We’regoingforawalkonthebeachwithDaisy,”Macsays,neatlyfoldingthedishclothandplacingitnexttothesink.“Wannacome?”
“Nah.I’mgood.”
I’mnotgood.I’mnotgoodintheslightest.
ThemomentCooperandMacexitontothebackdeck,Igrabmykeysandheadtothefrontdoor.
Innotimeatall,I’mridingintotownonmymotorcycletoseeformyself.DamnedifI’mgoingtobemadethecuck.CHAPTER11
GENEVIEVE
“IthinkIscrewedup,”IwhispertoHarrisonasthewaiterinawhitedressshirtandblackvestlaysthelinennapkininmylap.Therearealreadythreesetsofglassesonthetableandwehaven’tevenorderedanythingyet.Whenthewaiterofferedusstillorsparklingwater,Iaskedforthefreekind.“Ihadnoideathisplacewassofancy.”
Orexpensive.Itonlyopenedrecently,andInoticeditasIpassedbytheotherday.WhenIwasconcoctingthisdiversionforEvanearlier,itjustpoppedintomyhead.Now,I’mwearingmybestsummerdress,evenputonmakeupanddidmyhair,andyetIstillfeelunderdressed.
Forhispart,HarrisondoesadecentjobofpassingasoneoftheyachtclubguysthatwashintoAvalonBayfortheseason.Button-downshirtandthosedamnkhakiswithabeltthatmatcheshisshoes.Itworksforhim,though.
“Idon’tmind.”Harrisonpushessomeglassesoutofthewaytomakeroomforhismenu.“Idon’teatoutmuch.It’snicetohaveanexcuse.”
“Okay,butI’llobviouslysplitthecheck.”
WithaDisneyChannelsmile,Harrisonshakeshishead.“Ican’tletyoudothat.”
“No,seriously.Iwouldn’thavesuggestedthisplaceifI’dknown.Please.”
Hesetsthemenuasideandmeetsmyeyeswithsternconviction.Itageshimtenyears.“Ifyoukeeptryingtoshovemoneyinmypocket,I’mboundtogetoffended.”Thenhewinksatme,thoseboyishfrecklesblossomingonhischeeks,andIrealizehe’sputtingmeon.
“That’syourcopface,isn’tit?”
“I’vebeenworkingonitinthemirror,”heconfirms,leaninginwithhisvoicehushed.“HowamIdoing?”
“I’dsayyou’vegotitdownpat.”
Harrisonsipshiswaterasthoughhe’sjustrememberedthatfirstdatesaresupposedtomakeusnervous.“TherewasalittleoldladytheotherdayIpulledoverforrunningastopsign.Imadethemistakeofaskingifshe’dnotseenthesign,whichIguessshetooktomeanIthoughthervisionwasthetrouble,andsothiswomangetsonthephonetothesherifftellinghimsomehighschoolkid’sstolenacruiserandauniformandisoutterrorizingthecommunity.”
Iburstoutlaughing.
“Anyway.I’vebeentoldIbetterfiguremywaytolookingmorethepart,”hefinishes.
Thewaiterreturnstotakeourdrinkorder,andwouldwecareforabottleofwine?IwaveoffthewinelistwhenHarrisonoffersittome.Myexperienceisgenerallylimitedtothefivemajorfoodgroups:whiskey,vodka,tequila,rum,andgin.
“Hangon,Igotthis,”Harrisonsays,gettingexcitedashescansthelist.“IwatchedawinedocumentaryonNetflixonce.”
Asmilespringsfree.“Nerd.”
Heshrugs,butwithasatisfiedsmirkthatsayshe’squiteproudofhimself.“We’llhavetwoglassesofthe2016pinotgrigio,please.Thankyou.”
Thewaiternodshisapproval.Iconsiderspeakinguptorefuse,butwhat’stheharminoneglassofwine?It’snotlikeI’mpoundingshotsordowningcocktails.Iwon’tevengetabuzzonastingypour.Besides,Idon’twanttodiveheadlongintothedetailsofmyreputationrecoverybeforewe’veevenorderedfood.Notagreatconversationstarter.IthinkofitlikeanaccessorytocompletemyensembleofmatureadultGen.
“Ithinkthatwentwell,”Itellhim.
“Iwasnervousthereforaminute,butIthinkIpulleditoutintheend,”heagreeswithalaugh.
Honestly,asfarasfakefirstdatesgo,thisone’sofftoabetterstartthanIhadanyrighttoexpect.Weendedupmeetingattherestaurantinsteadofhimpickingmeup,andpartofmeworriedhemightwalkupholdingflowersorsomething.Ashe’dkissedmycheekingreeting,headmittedhe’dconsideredbringingabouquetbutrealizedIwasn’tthetype,andit’dprobablyembarrassbothofus.Hewasright,andthefactthathefiguredthatoutputhiminanentirelynewperspective.Now,thevibeischillandwe’regettingalong.Noneofthoseuncomfortablesilencesanddartingglancestoavoideyecontact,whilewebothstruggletodeviseanexitstrategy.DareIsay,I’mhavingagoodtime.Strangeasthatis.
Theoldmewouldn’thavebeencaughtdeadinthisplace.WhichIsupposeisthepoint.I’msteppingoutofthelongshadowmypasthascastovermylife.Harrisoniscertainlylivinguptohispartofthisplot.Abitshyandreservedincomparison,butsweetandfunnyinaninetiesfamilysitcomsortofway.AndalthoughIcan’tmusterupanysexualattractiontohim,perhapsthat’sagoodthing.EvanandIwereallbutdefinedbyourrabidsexualchemistry.Itruledus.
ButifI’mgoingtobeseriousaboutthisgoodgirlturn,maybeIneedagoodboytomatch.
“Anyway,”hesaysoncewe’veorderedourmeals,aftergoingoffonatangentaboutwhyhecan’teatmusselsanymore.“IfeellikeI’mbeingrude,doingallthetalking.Itendtoramblesometimes.”
“No,you’refine,”Iassurehim.I’dmuchrathernothavetheconversationfocusonme.“Tellme,what’stheweirdestcallyou’vegoneouton?”
Harrisonponders,staringintohisglassofwinewhilespinningitinlittlecirclesonthetablebythebase.“Well,therewasthisone.Secondweekonthejob.I’vestillgotababysitter,thisguyMitchum,who,ifyoupictureadisgruntledmathteacherwithagun,isprettymuchspot-on.Fromthesecondwemeet,hispersonalityishewantsmedead.”
Isnortoutatoo-loudlaughthatdisturbsthetablesnearbyandhasmehidingbehindmynapkin.
“I’mserious,”Harrisoninsists.“Idon’tknowwhatitwas,butIwalkedintotheboss’sofficebeforemyfirstshift,andMitchumwasstandingtherelookingatmelikeI’dknockeduphisdaughter.”
Ican’timagineanyonebeingputoffbyHarrison’sfirstimpression.Thenagain,I’veneverbeentoofondofthecopsinthistown,somaybethat’salltheexplanationthereneedstobe.
“WegetcalledouttothishouseinBelfield,”hecontinues.“Dispatchsaysacoupleofneighborsarehavingsomekindofdispute.Sowearriveonscenetofindtwoolderfellasjawingateachotherinthefrontyard.MitchumandIseparatethemtogettheirstoriesandfigureoutrealquicktheybothstartedhittingthebottleearlythatday.Theywerearguingoveramoweroramailbox,dependingonwhichoneofthemtellsit.Nothingespeciallyinteresting,butthey’vebothgotriflesthey’rewavingaround,andsomebodyletafewshotsoff.”
I’mtryingtoanticipatewherethisstoryisheadedwhenHarrisonshakeshisheadatme,asiftosay,don’teventry.
“Mitchumaskstheoneguy,whydon’tyouputthegunaway?Hetellsusheonlygothisgunbecausehisneighborgothisown.Andtheotherneighborsaysheonlygothisgunaftertheotherguyputthegatoronhisroof.”
“What?”Ibarkoutanotherdisturbingnoisethatdisruptstheentirerestaurant,thoughnowI’mtoopreoccupiedtofeelcontrite.“Likearealalligator?”
“Thisfella’sbeentryingtoshootthethingdown,ifyoucanbelievethat.Pumpingroundsintohisownroof,thewalls,wherever.Wecan’tbesurethey’reevenallaccountedfor—thankgoodnesswenevergotanyreportsofstraybullets.”
“How’dhegetitupthereinthefirstplace?”Idemand.
“Turnsouttheguyworksforthephonecompany.He’soutdrivingtoajobwhenhefindsthisgatorinthemiddleoftheroad.Onhislunchbreakhedecidestodrivethecherrypickerhomeanddropthatpooranimalupthere,thoughIcan’tforthelifeofmeimaginethemechanicsofthatsituation.Turnsoutthey’dhadarun-inthatmorningwhichprecipitatedtheretaliation.”
“Ialmosthavetoadmiretheguy,”Iadmit.“I’veneverhadagrudgethatwarrantedabiblicalplague.IguessIneedtofindabetterclassofnemesis.”
“Butgetthis.Mitchum,sweetguythatheis,tellsmeIhavetoclimbupthereandgetthegatordown.”
“Noway.”
“Nowremember,it’smyfirstshiftonthestreet,andifthisguygoesbacktothestationandsaysIcan’thackit,Icouldbebanishedbehindadeskforgood.SoIdon’thavemuchofachoice.Still,Iask,shouldn’twegetanimalcontroloutthereinstead?Andhetellsme,sorry,kid,thedogcatchersonlyworkontheground.”
“Wow.”I’mhonestlystunned.NotthatIdidn’tknowcopswerebastards,butthat’ssomecoldshitrightthere.Talkaboutfriendlyfire.“What’dyoudo?”
“Theshortversion,”hesayswiththehauntedstareofamanwho’sseenthings,“involvesaladder,aribeye,somerope,andaboutfourhourstogetthatthingdown.”
“Damn,Harrison,you’remyhero.Here’stoprotectingandserving,”Isay,clinkingmywineglasswithhis.
Wemakeithalfwaythroughourentréesbeforehetiresofdominatingtheconversationandonceagaintriestoturnitonme.Thistime,thetopicbeingmymother.
“I’msorryagain,”hesays.“Thismuststillbeadifficulttime.Withmovingbackandall.”
HisconsolatorytoneremindsmethatI’mstillputtingonanact,playingapartI’vewrittenofthepersonIshouldbe:thegrievingdaughter,stillmourningherdearmother.Wallpaperingabetterstoryoverourabsentrelationship,becauseitsoundsgood.
WhichissomethingI’veneverhadtodowithEvan.
Fuck.Despitemybestefforts,thoughtsofhimcreepinthroughtheseams.He’stheonlypersonwhounderstandsmydarkestthoughts,whodoesn’tjudgeortrytodissectme.Heunderstandsthattheemptyplacewhereeveryoneelseholdstheirmothersintheirheartsdoesn’tmakemeabadperson.Forallourfailings,Evanneverneededmetobeanyonebutmyself.
“Ooh,thatlooksgood.”
Speakofthefuckingdevil.
Completelyblindsidingus,EvansuddenlydropsachairatourtableandsitsdownbetweenHarrisonandme.
Hegrabsascallopoffmyplateandpopsitinhismouth.Hisdaringgazeflickstomewithaself-satisfiedgrin.“Hey.”
Unbelievable.
Myjawdoesn’tknowwhethertodroportighten,soitalternatesbetweenthetwodisparatemovements,I’msuremakingmeappearunhinged.“You’reoutofyourmind,”Igrowl.
“Broughtyousomething.”HeplacesagreenBlowPoponthetable,thenappraisesmewithalmostlewdinterest.“Youlooknice.”
“Nope.Notdoingthis.Gohome,Evan.”
“What?”hesayswithmockinnocence.Helickslemon-buttersaucefromhisfingers.“You’vemadeyourpoint.Icametospringyoufromthisstuck-upnightmare.”
Hestandsoutamongtheotherdiners,wearingablackT-shirtandblackjeans,hairwind-tossed,andallofhimsmellinglikemotorcycleexhaust.
“Comeon.”Harrison,tohiscredit,takestheinterruptioninstride.Abitconfusedashequestionsmewithhiseyes,butmaintainingapolitesmile.“We’rehavinganicetime.Lettheladyfinishherdinnerinpeace.I’msurewhateveryoutwohavetotalkaboutcanwaituntillater.”
“Oh,shit.”Laughing,Evancockshisheadatme.“Thisguy’sserious?Where’dyoufindhim?Imean,damn,Gen,you’rebasicallydatingourseventh-gradescienceteacher.”
ThatwipesthefriendlysmilefromHarrison’sface.
“Evan,stopit.”Igrabhisarm.“You’renotfunny.”
“Alright,I’veaskedyounicely,”Harrisonsays.HestandsupandI’mremindedofallthetimescopschasedmeandEvanoutofconveniencestoreparkinglotsandabandonedbuildings.“NowI’mtellingyou.Leave.”
“It’sfine,”IwarnHarrison.“I’vegotit.”
StillholdingEvan’sarm,Itightenmygrip.There’snowayI’mlettinghimstartabrawlinthemiddleofthisrestaurantandgethisassthrowninjailforbreakingacop’snose.
“Please,Evan,”Isayflatly.“Justgo.”
Heignorestherequest.“Rememberwhenthisplacewasaclothingstore?”Evanleansincloser,brushinghisfingersovermyhandonhisarm,whichIsnatchawayfromhistouch.“DidyoutellhimaboutthetimewediditinthedressingroomwhilethechurchladieswerejustoutsidethedoortryingontheirSundayhats?”
“Screwyou.”Myvoiceshakeswithanger,coldandbrittle,thewordsbarelypassingthroughmylipsasmythroatconstricts.I’dslaphimifIdidn’tknowforcertainitwouldonlyencouragehissabotage.ThemoreemotionEvancanpullfromme,themoreproofhehastocontinuehispursuit.
Pushingbackfromthetabletostand,IcatchabriefglimpseofHarrison’ssympatheticgazebeforeIturnawayandleave.
Ihittherailingthatseparatestheboardwalkfromthebeachbelowlikeacarslammingintoanembankment.Imighthavekeptonwalkingintotheocean,blindwithrage,ifithadn’tstoppedme.Iwanttothrowsomething.Launchabrickthroughastorefrontwindowtohearitshatter.Takeabaseballbattoachinashop.Anythingtogetthisrestlessstaticoutofmyarms,thethick,stone-hardballoffurythrobbinginmychest.
WhenIhearfootstepsbehindme,myfisttightens.AhandtouchesmyarmandI’mmid-swingwhenIturntoseeHarrisonwithhishandsup,bracedforimpact.
“Ohgosh,I’msorry.”Idropmyhands.“IthoughtyouwereEvan.”
Harrisonlaughsnervouslyandflashesarelievedsmile.“Noworries.Thisiswhatallthosede-escalationcoursesareforattheacademy.”
It’ssweet,hiscommitmenttodeflectingeverythingwithajokeandaheaping,sugaryspoonfulofoptimism.Idon’thavethatstuffinme.
“Really,though.I’msorryforeverythingbackthere.Thatwassoembarrassing.I’dmakesomeexcuseforhim,butEvan’skindofajerkonhisbestdays.”Ileanovertherailing,restingmyarmsonthesplinteredwood.“Andhereallyoudidwassayhiinabartobenice.Betyoudidn’texpectallthisdrama,huh?Gotmorethanyoubargainedfor.”
“Nah,IknewtherewasachanceI’dhaveapissed-offHartleyonmyassifIwentoutwithyou.”
Iliftabrow.“Ohreally?”
“Wewenttothesamehighschool,”heremindsme,hisvoicewrybutgentle.“Everyonehadafront-rowseattotheGenevieveandEvanshow.”
Embarrassmentheatsmycheeks,andIavertmyeyes.Somehow,knowingHarrisonwitnessedourhighschoolanticsisevenmorehumiliatingthanhavingEvancrashthisdate.
“Hey.Don’tlookawaylikethat.Everyonehasbaggage.”Hecomestoleanagainsttherailingbesideme.“We’veallgotapast.Thingswe’dratherpeoplenotjudgeusfor.Howcananyonegrowifweonlyletthembewhotheywereyesterday,right?”
Iglanceoverinsurprise.“That’sanunusualoutlookforacop.”
“Yeah,Igetthatalot.”
Westandthereforawhile,justlisteningtothewavesandwatchingthewaythelightsoftheboardwalkfloatonthewater.I’mabouttopackitin,pickupmydignityoffthegroundandheadhome,whenHarrisonmakesanothersuggestion.
“Youwanttotakeawalk?”Asthoughhe’sspentthiswholetimemusteringthecourage,heoffershishand.“Idon’tthinkI’mreadytogohome.Besides,wedidn’tmakeittodessert.Ibettheice-creamplacemightstillbeopen.”
Myfirstinstinctistosayno.Justgohomeandnursemyanger.ThenIrememberwhatAlanasaid.IfI’mgoingtowalkadifferentpath,Ihavetostartmakingdifferentchoices.AndIsupposethatstartswithgivingHarrisonachancetochangemymind.
“Thatsoundsnice,”Isay.
WestrolldowntheboardwalktowardTwoScoops,wherehebuysusacoupleofice-creamcones.Wekeepwalking,passingfamiliesandothercouples.Teenagersrunningaround,makingoutintheshadows.It’sabalmynightwithawarmbreezeofsaltairthatofferstheslightestrelieffromtheheat.Harrisonholdsmyhand,andwhileIlethim,itfeelswrong.Unnatural.Nothinglikethefeelingofanticipationandlongingthatcomeswithtouchingthatpersonyoucan’twaittokiss,theonewhosetsyournervesracing,getsyourfingertipsexcited.
Eventually,weendupinfrontoftheoldhotel.LasttimeIsawthisplace,itwasgapingopen,wallscollapsed,withfurnitureanddebrispouringout.TheBeaconhadbeenallbutevisceratedinthehurricane.Now,it’slikeitneverhappened.Practicallybrandnew,withitssparklingwhitefa?adeandgreentrim,shinynewwindows,andaroofwithoutanyholesinit.
NowthatCooper’sgirlfriendownsthisplace,I’llprobablyneverbeallowedtostepfootinside.
“It’sremarkablewhatthey’vemanagedtodowiththeplace,”Harrisonsays,admiringtherenovation.“Iheardit’ssupposedtoopeninthefall.”
“IlovedthisplacewhenIwasakid.Formysixteenthbirthday,mydadbroughtmeandmyfriendsinforaspaday.Gotournailsdone,facialsandstuff.”Igrinatthememory.“Theygaveusrobesandslippers,waterwithcucumbersinit.Allthatfancystuff.Itprobablysoundsstupid,butIrememberthinkingthiswasthemostbeautifulplace.Allthedarkwoodandbrass,thepaintingsonthewalls,theantiquefurniture.ItwashowIimaginedpalacesmustlookontheinside.But,youknow,kidsarestupid,so…”Ishrug.
“No,it’snotstupid,”Harrisonassuresme.“Wehadmygrandparents’anniversarydinnerhereyearsback.Theyservedallthisreallypretty-lookingfood—realrich-peoplestuff,becausemyfamilywantedtogivethemaspecialparty—andmygrandadgotsomad,keptyellingatthewaitertojustbringhimsomemeatloaf.Iswear,”Harrisonlaughs,“heleftthatpartylikeitwastheworstnightofhislife.Meanwhile,thefamilyspentasmallfortunetocaterthething.”
Wetradeafewmorestories,andeventuallyheescortsmebacktomycarparkedoutsidetherestaurant.Whilemuchofmyirritationwiththeordealfromearlierhasdissipated,nothingmakesthispartofthenightanylessawkward.
“Thankyou,”Isay.“Fordinner,butreallyforbeingsonice.Youdidn’thavetobe.”
“Believeitornot,Ihadagreattime.”Hisearnestexpressiontellsmeheactuallymeansthat.
“Howareyouevenlikethis?”Idemand,befuddledbyhim.“Sopositiveandupbeatallthetime.I’venevermetanyonelikeyou.”
Harrisonshrugs.“Seemslikealotofworkbeinganyotherway.”Likethetruegentlemanheis,heopensmydoorforme.Then,withatentativegesture,heoffersmeahug.It’sarelief,honestly,nottodothewholedancearoundakiss.“I’dliketocallyou,ifthat’sokay.”
Idon’tgetachancetocontemplatethepossibilityofaseconddate.
“Stepawayfromthecar,”avoiceshouts.
Frowning,IturnaroundintimetospotDeputyRandallcrossingthestreet.He’sgotameanwayabouthim.Alookthatintendstodoharm.
“Putthekeysontheground,”hecommands.
Forfuck’ssake.Ishieldmyeyesasheapproacheswithaflashlightshininginmyface.“It’smycar.I’mnotstealingit.”
“Ican’tallowyoutodriveimpaired,”Randallsays,restingahandonhisutilitybelt.
“Impaired?”IlookatHarrison,seekingconfirmationI’mnothallucinatingthis.BecauseRandallcannotbeserious.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“Rusty,”Harrisonsaystimidly,“Ithinkyou’vemadeamistakehere.”
“Iclearlyobservedtheyoungladystandinginanunsteadymannerandleaningonthedoorforsupport.”
“Bullshit,”Ispitathim.“Ibarelytouchedaglassofwineoveranhourago.Thisisharassment.”
“Igottasay,Rusty,I’vebeenwithherallnight.”Harrisonissoft-spokenandpolite,presentinganonthreateningcontradictiontoRandall’snonsenseassertions.“She’stellingthetruth.”
“Toldyoubefore,kid,”Randallsayswithanalmostgleefullycruelsneer.“Thisain’toneyouwanttowasteyourtimeon.Ifshe’sawake,she’seitherdruggedoutordrunk,makingasloppyembarrassmentofherselfallovertown.”Hehuffsoutasarcasticlaugh.“Ifdrunkanddisorderlieswerefrequentflyermiles,shecouldbookatriparoundtheworld.Ain’tthatright,Genevieve?”
“Fuckyou.Asshole.”IknowI’llregretthewordsevenasthey’recomingoutofmymouth,butIdon’tbotherclampingmylipsshut.Itfeelsgoodtoletitout,ineffectualasitis.Abrieffantasyofsnagginghispeppersprayflickersthroughmymind.
ThefaintesttwitchofasmirktugsatthecornerofRandall’smouth.Then,foreheadcreased,heordersmetocomestandbehindthecarandtakeafieldsobrietytest.
Myjawsnapsopeninshock.
“Youcan’tbeserious,”protestsHarrison,who’sclearlystartingtounderstandwhatanutterdickweedRandallis.
“No.”Icrossmyarmsandconsiderjustdrivingaway.DaringRandalltostopme.Thoseoldinstinctsofmayhemanddefianceroarbackwithavengeance.“Thisisludicrous.WebothknowI’mnotdrunk.”
“Ifyoufailtocomplywithalawfulorder,youwillbeunderarrest,”heinformsme.Randallispracticallydroolingattheprospectofputtingmeinhandcuffs.
IturntoHarrison,who,thoughplainlyalarmed,admitswithashrugthere’snothinghecandoaboutit.Seriously?Whatthehell’sthepointofdatingacopifhecan’tgetyououtofatrumped-uptrafficstopwithadisgruntledegomaniac?
Whattrulypissesmeoff,however,whatreallytearsthenailsfromthebed,isknowingRandallgetsoffonthis.Helovesapplyinghisauthoritytohumiliateme.Bustinganutwithhispowertrip.
Notwantingtomakeascene,IstalktowardtherearbumperandappraiseRandallwithacoollook.“Whatwouldyoulikemetodo?Officer.”
Asmilestretchesacrosshisface.“Youcanstartbyrecitingthealphabet.Backwards.”
Ifhethinksthisweakensme,he’ssorelymistaken.
Thatwhichdoesn’tkillmemakesmyangerstronger.CHAPTER12
EVAN
Forsomereason,Isawthatencountergoingbetterinmyhead.Ithoughtit’dbecharming,inourkindofdementedway.Attheveryleast,makeherlaugh.Becauseasmuchasshe’dgivenmeahardtimebackintheday,shealwaysatethatstuffup,gettingmejealousandrileduntilIsnappedandstormedintothrowherovermyshoulder.Thenwe’dfuckitoutandbecoolagain.
Thistime,notsomuch.
Irakebothhandsthroughmyhairandstareoutatthedarkwaterbeyondthelongpier.AfterGenstormedoutoftherestaurantandherdipshitdategavemesomeunconvincingadvicetoleaveheralone,Iwalkedoutheretogetsomeair,getmyheadonstraight.Butsofar,allI’vesucceededindoingiswallowingoverhowmuchImissGen.
Withatiredexhalation,Ishovemyhandsinmypocketsandleavethepier.Comingupthestepstotheboardwalk,wheremybikeisparkedalongthecurb,I’mnotquitesurewhatI’mlookingatuntilIhearGen’svoiceacrossthestreettellingacopwithhisflashlightpointedathertosuckherdick.
Myeyebrowssoarinconfusion,thenknitindispleasure.Thecop’sgotheronthestreetbehindacar,withherarmsspread,touchingherfingertohernose.Meanwhile,herdweebdateistheredoingnothingwhileshebegrudginglywalksastraightlineandrecitesthealphabet,mutteringobscenitiesalongtheway.EvenfromadistanceIcanfeelthehumiliationinGen’sexpression.Thewayhereyesstareintothedistance.
I’mhalfwaytorunningovertherebeforeIstopmyself.Damnit.ThelastthingIneedrightnowistogotojailforbouncingacop’sfaceoffthepavement.Iwouldn’tmakeitoutofacellalive.Besides,Cooper’salreadyupmyassaboutfighting—gettinglockedupwouldgivehimalifetimeItoldyousoaccountthatI’mnotabouttopayinto.SoIstandthere,huggingtherailing,fistsclenched.
IrecognizeRustyRandall,thoughIdon’tknowhimwell.Justthathe’sgotareputationasacreepwithanot-so-secretdrinkingproblemofhisown.Tohercredit,however,Gentakesitlikeachamp,neverthetypetoletanyoneseeherrattled.
Still,itturnsmystomachtowatchthisdegradingepisode.Dozensofpeoplestareatherastheypass.Shewasstone-coldsoberwhenIsawheranhourago.Andbyhoweasilyshe’snavigatingthetest,I’dsayit’sclearshedidn’tpopintoabartopoundabunchofshotsaftershelefttherestaurant.WhichmeansRandallisonlybeingadickbecausehecan.
Finally,afterabriefconversation,she’sallowedtogetinhercar.I’mgratifiedtonoteshebarelyglancesatherpolo-claddateassheleaves.
Iquicklygetonmybiketofollowher,makingsuretokeepmydistance.Ijustwanttomakesureshegetshomeokay.Afterawhile,though,Irealizewearen’theadedtoherhouse.Weleavethelightsoftownbehind,headednorthalongthecoastwherethepopulationthinsoutandthestarsappearoverhead.Soonwe’rewindingdownatwo-laneroadthroughtheblackwoodedlandscapewherethemoonoverthebayappearsinbriefglimpsesthroughthetrees.
Eventually,shepullsontothedirtshouldernearanarrowfootpathyoucanonlyfindifyouknowit’sthere,evenindaylight.Shegetsoutofhercar,grabsablanketfromthetrunk,andproceedsthroughthetrees.Iwaitafewminutesbeforefollowingher.Attheendofthepath,wherethetreesgivewaytothesandybeach,Ifindhersittingonadriftwoodlog.
Herheadliftswhenshehearsmeapproach.“Yousuckattailingpeople,”shesays.
Itakethatasaninvitationtosit.“IstoppedtryingtobeslyaboutitafterIrealizedwhereyouwereheaded.”
“Ididn’tcomeheretomeetyou.”Withtheblanketwrappedaroundhershoulders,sheburieshertoesinthecoolsand.“ThisisjustwhereIcometothink.Oritwas.”
Thatshechosethisplacehitsmerightinthechest.Becauseit’sourspot.Alwayshasbeen.Itwasouremergencyrendezvousafterrunningfromthecops,themake-outspotwhenweweregroundedandsneakingoutofthehouse.Oursecrethideout.NotevenCooperknowsIcomehere.
“Isawwhathappenedbackthere,”Itellher.She’snotmuchmorethanablackoutlineagainstthenight.It’ssodarkouthere,moonlightgetsswallowedbeforeithitstheground.Thestars,though,arereallysomething.“Whatwasthatallabout?”
“Nothing.Justsomeassholegivingmeahardtime.”
“ThatwasRandall,right?Didn’tyouusedtobabysitforhim?”Hewasn’tasuperniceguyoranything,butIrememberonceortwiceheletherslideonthisorthatinhighschoolwhenothercopshaditinforusprettybad.Itwassortofatransactionalunderstanding.
“Yeah,well,thingschange.”Hervoiceistightandsour.
Shedoesn’telaboratejustyet,andIdon’tpush.ThingIlearnedalongtimeago:Genwilltalkwhenshewantsto.She’salockedbox—nothinggetsinoroutunlessshewantsitto.Apersoncouldspendalifetimetryingtopickheropen.
SoIwait,silent,listening.Untilminutespassandsheletsoutasigh.
“NotlongbeforeIlefttown,IblewupRandall’sfamily.”
Islantmyhead.“How’dyoumanagethat?”
Inavoiceheavywithfatigue,sheexplainshowheassaultedherinabarafterhefailedtocoaxhertodohimintheparkinglot.Myfistsclenchsohardmyknucklescrack.Iwanttohitsomething.Tearittoshreds.ButIdon’tdaremovebecauseIwanttoheareverythingshehastosay.
“WhenIgothomeafterwecloseddownthebar,that’sallIcouldthinkabout.Vengeance.Iwasraging,”Gencontinues.“TheRandallhousewasonlyafewblocksaway,soIgotitinmyheadtowalkmyassoverthereatthreeinthemorning.NextthingIknow,I’mbangingonthedoorwithmyhairsweatyandmakeupmeltingoffmyface.HiswifeKaylaansweredthedoorallbleary-eyedandconfused.IforcedmywaypasthertostartshoutinginthemiddleofherlivingroomuntilRustycamedownstairs.”
Idon’tmissthedeepcreaseofshamethatdigsintoherforehead.Ihavetostopmyselffromreachingoutandtakingherhand.
“Itoldherhowhersleazeballhusbandtriedtocoercemeintosexthenassaultedmeinabar.Howeveryoneintownbutherknewhewassleepingaroundbehindherback.Hedenieditall,ofcourse.SaidI’dcomeontohim.Thejilted,jealousgirl.”Genlaughshumorlessly.“IwasascreaminglunaticwhoprobablylookedlikeI’djustwashedinwiththetide.Meanwhile,herfourkidswerepeeringoutfromthehallway,terrified.Kaylahadnoreasontobelieveme,soshetoldmetogetthehelloutofherhouse.”
IwishI’dknown,wishI’dbeenthereforher.Icouldhavestoppedthisentireordealdeadinitstracks.Keptherfromleaving.Now,I’mnotsurewhat’sworse.Wonderingthiswholetimewhatmadeherleave,orunderstandingnowthatifI’djustbeenthere,wewouldn’thavelostthelastyearofourlivestogether.
“Thenextmorning,IwokeupwithamonsterhangoverandaperfectmemoryofwhatI’ddone.Everyterriblemomentofmytotalmeltdown.Itwould’vebeenlessmortifyingtosethiscruiseronfire.AtleastthenI’dstillhavehadmyself-respect.Icouldn’tbeartheshameandregret.Notforthatskeezydouchebag,butforstormingintothatpoorwoman’shouseandtraumatizingherkids.Kayladidn’tdeservethat.Shewasakindwomanwho’dalwaysbeennicetome.Heronlyfaultwasbeingmarriedtoanassholeandnotknowinganybetter.”
“I’dhavekilledhim,”Itellher,nowseriouslyregrettingIdidn’ttakemyshotwhenhehadherontheboardwalk.“Beathimwithinaninchofhislifeanddraggedhimouttoseabehindaboat.”
TheurgetohoponmybikeandfindRandallisalmostirresistible.Inseconds,amontageofbrutalfantasiesspinthroughmyhead.Knockingeverytoothoutofhisskull.Snappinghisfingerslikematchsticks.Puttinghisnutsackunderthereartireofmymotorcycle.Andthat’sallforstarters.BecauseabsolutelynoonelaysagoddamnhandonmyGenevieve.
Ihatewhathe’sdonetoher.Notjustthatnight,orthislatestpowertrip,butthewayshe’sresignedherselftodefeat,theexhaustioninhervoice.ItripsmeupinsideandIcan’tstandit.Becausethere’snothingIcando.Shortofkickinghisassandspendingthenexttwentyyearsinprison,Idon’tknowhowtofixit.
“Iwishyou’dtoldme,”Isayquietly.
“I—”Shestopsforabeat.“Ididn’ttellanyone,”shefinishes.
YetIhaveasuspicionshe’dbeenabouttosaysomethingelse.
“It’sabigpartofthereasonwhyIleft,”sheadmits.“Notonlyhim,buthiswifeandthosekids.Icouldn’tstomachwalkingaroundtownknowingpeoplewouldhearaboutwhathappened,howImadeafirst-rateassofmyselfandruinedthatfamily.”
“Oh,screwthat.”Ishakemyheademphatically.“Tohellwithhim.Youdidhiswifeafavor.Andbetterthosekidsfindoutsoonerthanlaterthattheirdad’sabastard.Trustme,theprickhaditcoming.”I’vegotnosympathyforhim,andneithershouldshe.
Ahalf-heartedyeahisallshemuttersinresponse.AndallIwantistomakethisbetterforher.Takeawaythegarbagethat’scloggingupherhead.Helpherbreatheagain.Thenitoccurstome,Ihaven’tbeenmuchhelptonight.HereveninghadgonetohellbeforeRandallevengotthere,andthat’sonme.
“I’msorry,”Isayroughly.“Forcrashingyourdate.Iwasn’tthinkingclearly.”
“Youdon’tsay.”
“I’mnotsureIeveramwhenitcomestoyou.Truthis,myheadhasn’tbeenrightforaboutayearnow.”
“Ican’tberesponsibleforyourhappiness,Evan.Icanbarelyaccountformyself.”
“That’snotwhatI’msaying.Whenyouleft,mywholelifechanged.ItwouldbelikeifCoopersuddenlydisappeared.Ahugepieceofmebrokeoffandwasjustgone.”Iscrubahandovermyface.“Somuchofmewaswrappedupinus.Andthenyoucameback,andit’sgotmealltwistedupinside.Becauseyou’rehere,butyou’renotreallyback.Notlikeitwas.Idon’tknowhowtofiteverythingintoplacethewayitwasbefore,soI’mjustwalkingaroundalloutofsorts.”
Agonylodgesinmythroat.ForaslongasIcanremember,I’vebeenagonerforthisgirl.Turningmyselfinsideouttokeepherattention.Alwaysterrifiedthatonedayshe’drealizeIwasaloserwhowasn’tworthhertime,figureoutshe’salwayshadtheoptiontodobetter.Lastyear,Ithoughtshe’dreachedthatconclusion,butitturnsoutIwastheidiotthinkingherleavinghadanythingtodowithmydumbass.
“I’mnottryingtohurtyou,”shesayssoftly.
Silencefallsoverus.Notstrainedoruncomfortable,becauseit’sneverthatwaywithmeandGen,evenwhenwewanttomurdereachother.
“IrememberthefirsttimeIknewIwantedtokissyou,”Ifinallysay,notquitesurewherethesentimentevencamefrom.Butthememoryisclearerthanday.Itwasthesummerbeforeeighthgrade.I’dbeenmakingafoolofmyselfforweekstryingtoimpressher,makeherlaugh.Ididn’tknowyetthat’showcrushesstart.Whenthebalancetipsfromfriendshiptoattraction.“Afewweeksbeforewestartedeighthgrade.Wewereallouttheredivingofftheoldpier.”
Shegivesaquietlaugh.“God,thatthingwasadeathtrap.”
Itreallywas,thatdecrepitwoodenpierhalfsunkenintothewavesandfallingapart.Victimofahurricaneyearsprior,infestedwithrustynailsandsplinters.Atsomepoint,highschoolkidshadhauledametalladderouttothepartofthepierthatwasstillstandingandtiedittoapylonwithbungeecords.Itwasasortofriteofpassagetoswimoutthroughthecrashingwaves,climbthericketything,andleapoffthetoprailing.Thenallyouhadtodowasnotletthewavesthrowyoubackagainstthepylonscoveredinbarnaclesthatwouldtearthefleshoffyourbones.
“Therewasthatninth-grader—JaredorJacksonorsomebody.He’dbeenflirtingwithyouallafternoon,doingflipsoffthepierlikehewassodamncool.Andbeingallobnoxiousaboutittoo.Like,hey,lookatme,I’msuchabadass.Soyoudaredhimtojumptooneofthepylonsfromthepier.Itwasmaybeaten-footleaptoaone-foottarget,andrightbelowwereallsortsoftorn-up,jaggedpiecesstickingupoutofthewater.Withthewavesjustabsolutelythrashingbelowus.”Igrin.“Suddenlyhewasn’tsoloudanymore.Startsmakingexcusesandshit.Andwhileeveryone’sraggingonhimforchickeningout,youtakearunningstartandgoflyingthroughtheair.IwaslookingatCooperforthesplitsecondlike,ohfuck,we’regonnahavetojumpinafteryouanddragyoubacktoshorewhenyoubreakyourneckorgetimpaledonsomething.Butthenyounailedit.Perfectlanding.CoolestthingI’deverseen.”
Shelaughstoherself,remembering.“IgotstungbyajellyfishafterIjumpeddown.ButIhadtobechillaboutit,youknow.Didn’twanttolooklikeadumbassforjumpingoutthereinthefirstplace.”
“Yeah,probablyagoodidea.Youwould’vehadtenpervertboyswhippingtheirtinydicksouttopeeonyourleg.”Webothshudderindisgustatthatdodgedbullet.
“Youdidn’tkissmethatday,though,”shepointsout.“Whynot?”
“Becauseyou’refuckingscary.”
“Oh.”Shelaughs,elbowingmyarmgood-naturedly.
“Imean,Iknowwe’dbeenfriendsforyearsbythen,butwhenyoufigureoutyouhaveacrushonsomeone,it’slikeyou’restartingfromscratch.Ididn’tknowhowtoapproachyou.”
“Youfigureditout.”
Sheshiftsbesideme,andIsensethechangeintheairbetweenus.Somethinghappens.Withouthersayingaword,Ifeelherdecidetonotbemadatmeanymore.
“Didn’thaveachoice,”Iadmit.“IwasgoingtoclawoutofmyskinifIdidn’tfindoutwhatyourlipsfeltlike.”
“Maybeyoushouldhave.”Theblanketdropsfromaroundhershoulders.Sheturnstolookatme.“Eatenyourselfalive.Sparedusboththetrouble.”
“Believeme,there’snoversionofthis”—Igesturebetweenus—“wherewedon’tgettogether,Fred.Onewayoranother.Icantellyouthatforcertain.”
“Andtohellwiththecollateraldamage.”
“Yes.”Withouthesitation.
“Whileitallburnsaroundus.”
“Ilikeitthatway.”Becausenothingelsematterswhenshe’smine.Nothing.She’severythingandallofit.
“There’ssomethingwrongwithus,”shemurmurs,closingthespacebetweenusuntilIfeelherarmbrushmineandherhairsweepacrossmyshoulderinthebreeze.“Itshouldn’tfeellikethis.”
“Howshoulditfeel?”Ihaven’ttheslightestideawhatthatmeans,butIwouldn’tchangethewayIfeelaboutherforanything.
“Idon’tknow.Butnotthisintense.”
Ican’tresisttheurgeanylonger.Ireachouttotentativelybrushherhairbehindherear,thenthreadmyfingersthroughthelong,softstrandsatthebackofherneckwhenshetiltsherheadintomytouch.
“Doyouwantmetoleave?”Iaskhoarsely.
“Iwantyoutokissme.”
“Youknowwhat’llhappenifIdo,Gen.”
Heatflaresinhereyes,thosevividbluedepthsthatneverfailtodrawmein.“Yeah?What’llhappen?”sheasks,theslightcurveofherlipstellingmeshealreadyknowstheanswerbutwantstohearmesayit.
“I’llkissyou.”Idragmythumbalongthenapeofherneck.“Andthen…thenyou’llaskmetofuckyou.”
Herbreathhitches.“Andthenwhat?”Hervoiceisshaky.
“Youknowwhat.”Igulpthroughthesuddenonslaughtofpure,carnallust.“Icanneversaynotoyou.”
“Iknowthefeeling,”shesays,andthenherlipstouchmineandfromthereI’mnolongerincontrol.Webecomethisautonomousthingwithamindofitsown.Likeblackingout.Shebitesmylipwithasoftmoan,grabbingafistfulofmyT-shirt.I’mrockhardandreadytobeinsideher,butIdon’twantthistoend.
“Letmetasteyou,”Iwhisperagainsthermouth.
Lyingbackonthelog,theblanketbeneathher,shepartsherlegsforme,grantingmetheaccessIdesperatelycrave.Noteventryingtobepoliteaboutit,Ipulldownherlacypanties,shovetheminmypocket,andthrowherlegovermyshoulder.
“I’vemissedthis,”Isaywithahappygroan.
God,andIhave.ImissedthewayshepullsmyhairwhenIsuckherclit,archingherbacktogrindagainstmyfaceasIdragmytongueoverherdelicateflesh.Imissedhersoftsighsofpleasure.Herfingerstangledinmyhair.
Ipushherkneesuptoherchest,spreadingheropen,asshetremblesagainstmymouth.She’squiet,allbutholdingherbreath.AtleastuntilIworktwofingersinsideher.Thenshemoansuncontrollably,andit’salmostunfairhowfastshecomes.Iwanttomakeitlastforher,butI’malsogreedytomakehershakeforme.
Idon’tevenexpecthertofuckme.I’dbehappytogodownonhereverydayandtwiceonSundayjusttogohomeandyankittothememory.ButafterwardGenthrowstheblanketonthesandandstartsunzippingmyjeans.Shetakesmycockinherhandandstrokesme,slowandfirm.Wedon’tspeak.Asifwe’rebothafraidwordswillshatterthedarkness,theseclusionthatmakesthisallpossible.Outhere,aloneandinsecret,isitevenreal?Wecanbeanyone,doanything.Ifnooneknows,itneverhappened.
Shesitsmeontheblanket,bothofusstillclothed.SheknowsI’vegotacondominmypocketbecauseIalmostalwaysdo,soshetakesit,ripsitopenandslidesitonmebeforeslidingherselfdownonmydick.Sowetandtight.Herhipsrockbackandforth,takingmedeep,summoningaraggedbreathfrommylungs.Idragdownthezipperofherdressandunhookherbratograbtwohandfulsofherbreasts.Squeezing.Suckinghernippleswhilesheridesme.Buryingmyfaceinherwarmskin.
It’sfuckingperfection.
Smallnoisesstarttoescapeherlips.Sighsthatbecomelouder,moredesperate.Thenshelosesallcontrolofhervoice,moaningagainstmyear.
“Harder,”shebegsme.“Please,Evan.Harder.”
Igrabherass,holdingherabovemewhileIthrustintoher.Shebitesmyshoulder.Idon’tknowwhythatalwaysdoesit,butsecondslaterIcome,hard,shakingasIholdhertighttomychest.EverytimewithGenisthebestsexI’veeverhad.Rawandunfiltered,themosthonestweknowhowtobe.
Ifonlythatfeelingcouldlastforever.CHAPTER13
GENEVIEVE
Iforgettobeafraidofmyself,ofwhatIbecomeinsideEvan’sorbit.It’ssomuchwork,worrying,constantlyguardingmyownworstinstincts,thinkingandthenunthinkingeverydecision.Iforgettohatemyselfandinsteadletmydressfalltothesand.IwalknakedoutintothewaveswhileEvanpullshisshirtoff,watchingmefromtheshore.I
Uptomywaistinthewater,Iturnaroundtowatchhimwadeinafterme—andrememberhehasthesamepower.I’mtrans-fixedbythelinesofhismusclesandbroadshoulders.Thewayhegrabsahandfulofwaterandrunsitthroughhishair.Ashudderrunsthroughmeatthemagnificentsight.
“Yeah,so,it’sbeenfun,”hesaysglibly.“ButIgottarun.”
“Ohyeah?Somewheretobe?”
“Yeah,Igotadate,actually.Infact,I’malreadyrunninglate.Gonnahavetostopatthestoreformorecondoms.”
“Right,sure,”Isay,draggingmyhandsthroughthewatertokeepmyselfsteadyagainstthetide.“AnyoneIknow?”
“Doubtit.She’sametermaid.”
“Hot.”Ibitebackalaugh.“Justyourtype.Iknowhowwildyougoforcivicauthority.”
“Youknow,it’sthepolyester,ifI’mhonest.Tackyuniformsgetmydickhard.”
“SoifItoldyouIbecameaUPSgirlinCharleston—”
“I’ddestroythat.”
“Promises,promises.”
Grabbingmywaist,heliftsmeandIwrapmylegsaroundhiships.Ihangontohimwithmyhandsclaspedbehindhisneckashekeepsusfirmagainstthepushandpullofthewaves.
Evansqueezesmyassinbothhands.“Please,Gen,daremetobendyouover.I’mbeggingyou.”
TothatIsmackahandfulofsaltwaterathim.“Animal.”
Heshakesthewaterfromhisface,flippinghishairoutofhiseyes.“Woof.”
We’regoodlikethis.That’sthething.It’dbeeasytowalkawayifhewereabastardwhotreatedmebadlyandwasonlynicewhenhewantedtogetlaid.Butit’snotlikethatatall.He’smybestfriend.Orwas.
“So,goon,”Evansaysgruffly.“TellmeaboutCharleston.Whatkindoftroublewereyougettinginto?”
“You’regoingtobedisappointed.”Thispastyearwasdecidedlydrab,butthat’swhatitwasmeanttobe.Acompletesocialdetox.“There’snotmuchtotell,really.Igotajobworkingforarealestateoffice.Secretaryslashassistantslashmiscellaneous.Ifyoucanbelievethat.”
“Thatmusthavebeenahellofajobinterview.”Awavecomesatussidewaysandtossesustowardshore.Evansetsmeonmyfeetbutkeepsthosestronghandsonmyhips.
“Why’sthat?”
Hiseyessparkleinthemoonlight.“Well,Iassumeunderrelevantexperience,youlistedtheGoldenrodEstates.”
Thementionofthatplacebringstomindallsortsofmischief.Afewyearsago,GoldenrodEstateswasahousingdevelopmentstillunderconstructionjustsouthofAvalonBay.Anothergatedcommunityforpeoplewithmoremoneythantaste,allthosegaudyMcMansionssittingontopofeachother.Butwhenthehurricanecamethroughandtoredownhalfthetown,constructionhaltedaseverycompanyrushedtosnapupalltherestorationandrepairworktheycouldget.Theplaceswereabandonedformonths,leavingkidslikeustoroamfreethroughtheempty,openhomes.
“Thatwasagoodsummer,”Iadmit.Oneofourfondermemories.
“Theemptypoolparty.”
“Oh,shit.Yes.Likefiftypeoplecrammedinahugeconcretehole.”
“ThenBillycomesrunningupandsaysthecopsarecoming.”
Thenightinquestionflashesthroughmymind.Iremembermybrother’sfranticentrance,howwe’dshutoffthemusicandturnedouttheflashlights.Allofusholdingourbreath,croucheddowninthedark.
“Andyourdumbassdecidestobethehero,”Isay,moreinamusementthanaccusation.“Climbsoutofthepoolandrunsacrossthestreet.”
“Youdidn’thavetofollowme.”
“Well,yeah.”Iswaywiththecurrent,lettingmytoesdraginthesandastheforceofthetidepushesandpulls.“ButIwasn’tlettingyougotojailalone.”
Thememorieskeepsurfacing.EvanandIgotupontheroofofahouseacrossthestreet,watchingtheredandbluelightsgrowbrighteragainstthewallsoftheunfinishedhousesascarsdrewcloser.Halfadozencruisers,atleast.Then,hopingtodistractthecopsfromourfriends,webeganwavingourflashlights,shoutingattheofficerstogettheirattention.Weleaptofftheroof,poundingpavementanddartingthroughhousesasweranfromthecops,eventuallylosingtheminthewoods.
God,wewereinvincibletogether.Untouchable.WithEvan,Iwasneverboredaminuteinmylife.Bothofuswereconstantlyfeedingthehigh,lookingforthenextshotofadrenalineaswepressedthelimitsofourowncapacityfortrouble.
“Thereaguy?”heaskssuddenly.“BackinCharleston?”
“Whatiftherewas?”Buttherewasn’t,notreally.Justaseriesofunimpressivedatesandshort-livedrelationshipsthatmostlypassedthetime.It’stoughwhenyou’recomparingeveryguyyoumeettotheoneyouranawayfrom
“Noreason,”hesays,shrugging.
“Justwanttotalktohim,right?Justachat.”
Evansmirks.“Somethinglikethat.”
Ican’thelpthathisjealousyexcitesme.It’sstupidandpetty,Iknow,butinourbizarreway,it’showweshowwecare.
“Whataboutyou?Anygirls?”
“Afew.”
Ifrownathisvaguetone.Feelingtheclawstryingtocomeout,Iforcemyselftoretractthem.ForcemyselfnottopictureEvanwithanotherwoman.Hismouthonsomeonewhoisn’tme.Hishandsexploringcurvesthataren’tmine.
ButIfail.Theimagesswarmmybrainandalowgrowlescapesmythroat.
Evanlaughsmockingly.“Justwanttotalktothem,right?”hemimics.“Justachat?”
“No.Iwanttoburntheirhousesdownfortouchingyou.”
“Damn,Fred,whydoyoualwaysgorighttoarson?”
Isnicker.“WhatcanIsay?Irunhot.”
“Damnright.”Hishandsglideupmystomachtocupmybarebreasts.Hesqueezes,winkingatme.
Ishiverwhenhisfingertipsdanceovermynipples,whichpuckertightly.Evannoticestheresponse,andafaintsmiletugsathislips.He’ssogood-lookingit’salmostunfair.Mygazesweepsfromhischiseledfeaturestothedefinedmusclesofhisbarechest.Hissculptedarms.Flatabdomen.Thosebig,callusedhandsthathadjustpinnedmedownwhilehishungrymouthfeastedbetweenmylegs.
“You’rekillingme,Gen.”Evangrowlsthewordsatwhateverheseesplayingoutonmyface.Hisfingersbiteintomyflesh.“Don’tdothatunlessyoumeanit.”
“Dowhat?”
“Youknowwhat.”Holdingontomywaist,hewalksusbackwardtowardshore.“You’rehavingfuck-medaydreams.I’mprettymuchthere,ifyouwanttogoagain.”
“Ididn’tsaythat.”
Hepresseshimselfagainstme,lettingmefeelhimhardagainstmyleg.“You’reatease,youknowthat?”
“Ido.”Wereachdrysand.Standingthere,westareateachother,untilatinysmileticklesmylips.“Youlikeit.”
ThenIkisshisneck.Hisshoulder.DownhischestuntilI’monmykneeswithhiserectioninmygrip,strokinghim.Evanrunsbothhandsintohishairanddropshisheadback,breathingheavy.
WhenIdon’tdoanything,hepeersdownatme,hisdarkeyesburningwithneed.“Areyoujustgoingtositthere,orareyougoingtosuckit?”
“Haven’tdecidedyet.”Ilickmylips,andheletsoutatorturedgroan.
“Tease,”hesaysagain,tryingtothrustforward.
Itightenmygripinwarning,butthatjustmakeshiseyesgleambrighter.
“More,”hebegs.
“Morewhat?”Iusemyindexfingertodrawteenycirclesaroundthetipofhiscock,prolonginghistorture.
“Moreeverything,”Evanchokesout
Hishipssnapforwardagain,seekingcontact,relief.Laughingathisdesperation,Islidemytongueuphisshaftandthentakehiminmymouth.
Hemoansloudenoughtowakethedead.
TherearethingsaboutEvanI’vemissedmorethanothers.Gettingwasted,blackingout,wakingupinarandomclosetofsomerandomwarehousewearingclothesthatweren’tmyown—Icouldlivewithoutsomeofthosememories.Buthowhemakesmefeelwhenwe’realone?Howhegiveshimselfovertome,trustsmecompletely—Ilovethisversionofus.Thegoodus.
Irelishinthesoftgroansthatvibrateinhischestandthetensiontighteninghismuscles.Thewayhishandsdroptohiships,thentomyhair,asheresiststheurgetothrusthardandfast,becauseonetimeIgentlybithiminwarningandnowhelivesinfearofme—justalittle.It’sourgame.I’monmykneesbuthe’stheoneatmymercy.ImakehimfeelonlywhatIgivehim.Thepleasureandanticipation.Slowingtoprolongtheexperience,rushingtopullhimtotheedgeoffrustration.Untilfinally,hebreaks.
“Gen,please.”
SoIlethimcome,pumpinghimuntilhereacheshisrelease.Then,totallyspent,heslinkstothegroundandtugsmetoliewithhimontheblanket.
We’requietforawhile.Surroundedbythecomfortingdarkness,surroundedbyonlythesoundofthebreezerustlingthepalmtreesandthewavesrushingupthesand.
“DidItellyoumymomtextedme?”Evansayssuddenly.
It’snotatallwhereIexpecthismindtogo,andIhesitatetoentertainthesubject.Notbecauseitbothersmeinanyparticularway,butIknowittendstoupsethim.
“ShewantsmetomeetherinCharleston.Makeamendsorwhatever.”
“DoesCooperknow?”
“Nope.”Evanstretchestoclasphishandsbehindhishead,proneunderthestars.HisbeautifulprofileisstrainedwhenIturntopeekathim.“Lasttimeshewasintown,shestolehislifesavings.”
“Ohjeez.That’srough.”
“Hegotmostofitback,but…yup.Needlesstosay,he’snotrollingoutthewelcomematforheranytimesoon.”
“Doyouwanttoseeher?”Iaskcarefully.
ShelleyisasorespotforEvanandhisbrother,andalwayshasbeen.WhereasIwasrelievedtofinallybefreedfromthestandoffofmyfailedrelationshipwithmymom,I’vespentyearswatchingEvangethishopesupthatonedayhismotherwillcometohersensesandlovehim,thenhavethemutterlydevastated.Idon’tsharehisfaith.
“Idon’twanttobemadeafoolofagain,”heconfesses.Hesoundsbleak,exhausted.“IknowhowIlook.CooperthinksI’manidiot,thatIdon’tgetit.Ido,though.Iunderstandwhathedoes,butIcan’thelpthatIdon’twanttomisstheonetimeshemightmeanit.Maybethatsoundsstupid.”
“Itdoesn’t,”Iassurehim.Na?ve,maybe.Wishful,yes.BothqualitiesI’veneverputmuchstockin.Butnotstupid.
“It’dbedifferentifitweren’tjustCoopandme,Ithink.Ifourdadwasstillaround.”Heglancesatmewithasadsmile.“Imeanifhewasn’tanasshole.Andifwehadabunchofbrothersandsisters.”
“Mymomhadtoomanydamnkids,”Iinterject.“Trustme,thatdidn’tmakeherabetterperson.Iguesshavingmybrothersaroundhelpedmetonotfeelsolonelyinthathouse,butnothingfixesitwhenyouknowyourmomdoesn’tgiveadamnaboutyou.”
It’sstrangehowsayingthosewordsoutloud—sayingmymotherdidn’tgiveadamnaboutme—bringscomfortratherthanheartache.ItoldmyselfalongtimeagoIdidn’tneedherloveorapprovalorattention.ThatIwouldn’twastemybreathonsomeonewhocouldn’tbebothered.AndIkepttellingmyselfthatuntilIbelievedit,entirelyandwithouthesitation.Nowthatshe’sdead,Idon’tmissthewastedyearsorregretallthetimesIsavedmyselfthegriefoftrying.Thebestgiftwegiveourselvesisrespectingourneedsfirst.Becausenooneelsewill.
“Youwouldn’twantabigfamily?”Evanasks.“Yourown,someday?”
Ipauseinthought,consideringallthetimesoneofmybrotherswalkedintothebathroomtotakeadumpwhileIwasintheshower.ThetimesIcamehometooneoftheminmybedwithagirlbecauseanotheronelockedthemoutoftheirownroom.Andthenontheflipside:myolderbrothersallpilinginthecartoteachmetodrivebecausemydadbythencouldn’ttakethestressofit.Teachingmetoplaypoolandshootdarts.Howtodrinkandthrowapunch.They’reabunchofstinking,disgustingbrutes.Butthey’remybrutes.
“Yeah,IguessIdo.”AlthoughIdon’tparticularlywanttothinkaboutmakingthatbigfamily—whenIimaginewhatthesixofusmusthavedonetomymother’svag,Iblameheralittlelessforhercasualanimositytowardus.“Notanytimesoon,though.”
“Ido,”hesays.“Wantabigfamily,Imean.I’devenbethestay-at-homedad.Dothediapersandmakelunchesandallthat.”
“Right.”IsnortoutalaughattheimageofEvanstandinginthefrontyardwithtwoarmsfulloftinynakedchildrenwhilethehouseburnsbehindhim.“Findyourselfasugarmommawhoseuterusisn’tentirelyshriveledtosawdustyet.”
Heshrugs.“WhatthehellelseamIdoing,youknow?Let’sbehonest,ItrippedandfellintothebusinesswithLevi.Ididn’treallydomuchtoearnthat,exceptmostlyshowupontimetowork.Cooper’sgottheplansandambition.Gettinghisfurniturebusinessgoingandwhatnot.Sowhynotbetheguywhostayshomewiththekids?”
“Ireallywouldn’thavefiguredyouforthetype.”Evan’sneverbeeninterestedinwhat’sexpectedofhim—inallthewayssocietytellsustogetajob,getmarried,havekids,anddiewithamortgagewecan’taffordandgenerationalcreditcarddebt.“GuessIthoughtyoualwayshadaplantohoponyourbikeonedayandsetoutontheopenroadorwhateverclichéshit.”
“That’savacation,notalife.Ilovethesmall-townbeachlife.Whereeveryoneknowseveryone.It’sagoodplacetoraiseafamily.”
Yetthere’suncertaintylingeringinhisvoice.“But?”
“ButwhatthehelldoIknowaboutbeingafather,right?Givenmyrolemodels,I’dprobablypermanentlyscarmykidstoo.”
IsituptomeetEvan’seyes.InhisflippantdismissalsIhearhispain,theyearsoftraumaburiedunderbravado.Beatinghimselfupforwhat’sbeendonetohimbecausethere’snooneelsearoundtotaketheblame.
“You’dbeagooddad,”Isaysoftly.
Anothershrug.“Eh.MaybeIwouldn’tentirelyruinthem.”
“You’dhavetobemorethanjustthefundad,though,”Iremindhimashetugsmebackdown.Irestmyheadonhischestanddrapemylegoverhiship.“Learndiscipline.Can’thaveyourkidsendinguplikeus.”
“Thehorror.”Hekissesthetopofmyhead.
Evenafterwe’veclosedoureyes,westillmutteraboutthisorthatlateintothenight,untilourwordsbecomefurtherapartandeventuallywedrifttosleep.Nakedunderthestars.CHAPTER14
GENEVIEVE
Thesuncreepsinslowlyatfirst,thenallatonce,anexplosionoflightpryingmyeyelidsopen.Iwakeupwithsandinmybutt,andIcan’tevenblameahangover.Becauseit’shim.It’salwayshim.
Stillnakedonthegroundfromthenightbefore,Ihaulmyselfuptofishformyclothes.IfindmyphonehalfburiedandmyunderwearhangingoutofthepocketofEvan’sjeans.ThereareadozenmissedcallsandtextsfrommydadandShaneaskingwherethehellIam.I’mmorethananhourlateforwork,andjudgingbytheirincreasinglyworriedmessages,they’reaboutreadytosendoutasearchpartyandstartcallinghospitals.
Evanisstillasleepontheblanket.I’vegothellwaitingformeattheshop,butstillIcan’ttearmygazeawayfromhim.Thelonglinesofhisbody,tanandstrong.Memoriesoflastnightskitteracrossmylimbslikeaflurryoftinysparks.I’ddoitallagain,pickuprightwhereweleftoffandtohellwithresponsibilitiesandobligations.
Andthat’stheproblem.
Herollsover,exposinghisback,andIrealizeforthefirsttimewhatwastoodarktoseelastnight.Onhislowerback,justabovehisrighthipandtuckedinamonghisothertattoos,there’sanillustrationofasmallbeachcovewithtwodistinctivepalmtreesbentfromhurricanesandcrisscrossingeachother.Identicaltotheonesbehindme.It’sourspot.Ouroneperfectplaceonearth.
Whichonlymakesthisharder.
EvanstirsasI’mwrappingmyhairinabunanddiggingmykeysoutofthesand.“Hey,”hemumbles,adorablydrowsy.
“I’mlate,”Itellhim.
Hejerksuprightwithaconcernedexpression.“What’swrong?”
It’sonlywhenIrubmyeyesthatIrealizemyvision’sblurrywithtears.Iinhaledeeply,exhalingafeeblesputterofairthatmakesmefeelabitwobbly.“Thiswasamistake.”
“Wait.Holdon.”Hegrabshispantsandshakesthemouttostartgettingdressed,ahurriedpanicevidentinhismovements.“What’shappened?”
“Itoldyouwecouldn’tdothis.”Ieasebackwards,blinkingawaythemoistureinmyeyes.AllIwanttodoisrun.GetawayfromhimasfastasIcan,becauseeverysecondIlingerinhispresenceweakensmyresolve.
“Gen,hey.Stop.”Hegrabsmyhandstostillme.“Talktomeforasecond.”
“Wecan’tkeepdoingthis.”IimplorehimtounderstandwhatIalreadyknowisbeyondhisreasoning.“We’renogoodforeachother.”
“Butwhere’sthiscomingfrom?Lastnight—”
“Ihavepeoplewhoarecountingonme.”Desperationclogsmythroat.“Mydad,mybrothers.We’reallworkingonkeepingthebusinessafloat.Ican’tblowthemofftohideoutwithyouallnight.”Igulpdownamassivelumpofsadness.“Aslongaswe’rearoundeachother,Ican’ttrustmyself.”
“What’sthebigdeal?”Heturnshisbackinfrustration,tuggingathishair.“Wehadagoodtimeandnoonegothurt.”
“We’rebothlateforworkbecausewestayedupallnightfuckingliketeenagerswhoseparentsareoutoftown.Whenarewegoingtogrowup,Evan?”
Heroundsonme,darkeyesblazingwithfrustration.“Whatissowrongaboutwantingtobewithyou?Whydoyouwanttopunishusforthis?”hedemands,gesturingbetweenus.“Whyareyoupunishingyourselfforcaringaboutme?”
“I’vejustdecidedtostartcaringaboutmyselfmore.Thatmeansbeingresponsibleforthefirsttimeinmylife.Ican’tdothatwheneverytimeIseeyouIforgetanythingelseexists.That’swhyIdidn’tsaygoodbyetoyoubeforeIleft.BecauseIknew—”Istopbeforetherestofthatsentimentcanescape.
“Youknewwhat?”
Ihesitate,rememberingthepainI’dseenonhisfacelastnightwhenhe’dconfessedhowmuchmyleavinghadaffectedhim.Ahugepieceofmebrokeoffandwasjustgone.I’dhurthimbadly,ahellofalotmorethanI’drealized.AndhurtingEvanmakesmesicktomystomach.Idon’tlikedoingit,andIdon’twanttodoitnow,but…I’mnotsureIhaveachoice.
“YousaidlastnightthatyouwishI’dtoldyouabouttheshowdownwithRandall,”Ifinallysay.
“Yeah…”Histoneiswary.
“Well,Itried.Ididn’tsleepawinkthatnight.IstayedupallnightthinkingaboutwhatI’ddone,stewinginmyhumiliation.Itwasn’tatotalrock-bottommoment,butitwasdefinitelyawake-upcall.Itwasobviousthepartyinghadbecomeaproblemandwasstartingtocloudmyjudgment.There’snowayIeverwould’veshoweduponKaylaRandall’sdoorstepinthemiddleofthenightifI’dbeensober.”
Ishakemyheadindisgust.Atmyself,nothim.Although,Icertainlyhadn’tbeenimpressedwithhimeither,themorningaftermyunhingedvisittotheRandallhouse.
“Iknewyouwereoutwiththeguysthatnightandwouldprobablysleepin,soIwaitedaroundallmorningforyoutocallortext,”Itellhim.“Andwhenyoudidn’t,IfinallydroveovertoyourplacesoIcouldtellyouwhathappenedwiththeRandalls.”
Afrowntoucheshislips.“Idon’trememberyoucomingover.”
“Becauseyouwerestillpassedout,”Isayflatly.“Itwasoneintheafternoon,andIwalkedintoyourhousetofindyousnoringonthecouch,emptybottlesandfullashtraysalloverthecoffeetable.Therewasspilledbeeronthefloor,allstickyundermyshoes,andsomeonemust’vedroppedajointonthearmchairatsomepoint,becausethere’dbeenaholeburnedintoit.”Isighsoftly,shakingmyheadagain.“Ididn’tbotherwakingyou.Ijustturnedaroundandwenthome.Andstartedpacking.”
Nowhelooksstartled.“YoulefttownbecauseIwashungoverafteranightwiththeboys?”There’sadefensiveedgetohisvoice.
“No.Notentirely.”Itrynottogroan.“Itwasjustanotherwake-upcall,okay?IrealizedI’dneverbeabletochangemywaysifweweretogether.ButIknewthatifItoldyouIwantedtoleave,youwouldconvincemetostay.”There’sabittertasteinmymouth,butIknowit’snotEvan’sfault.It’smine.“Ican’tsaynotoyou.Webothknowthat.”
“AndIcan’tsaynotoyou,”hesayssimply.Heexhalesaraggedbreath.“Youshould’vejusttalkedtome,Gen.Hell,Iwould’vegonewithyou.Youknowthat.”
“Yes.Iknewthattoo.Butyou’reabadinfluenceonme.”Athiswoundedlook,Iadd,“It’satwo-waystreet.Iwasanequallybadinfluenceonyou.IwasworriedthatifwelefttheBaytogether,we’djustbringthosebadhabitstowhereverweendedup.AndIwasdonewiththosehabits.I’mdonewiththemnow.”
Gatheringmyshoes,Isteelmyselfforwhatcomesnext.Afterallthistimeaway,ithasn’tgottenanyeasier.“Yououghttothinkaboutgettingyourshittogethertoo.Wearen’tkidsanymore,Evan.Ifyoudon’tmakeachange,you’regoingtowakeuponedayandrealizeyou’vebecomethethingyouhatemost.”
“I’mnotmyparents,”hegritsoutbetweenclenchedteeth.
“Everything’sachoice.”
Ihesitateforabeat.ThenIstepforwardandkisshimonthecheek.Whenhisgazesoftens,Istepoutofhisreachbeforehecanchangemymind.BecauseIdocareabouthim.Icareabouthimwaytoofuckingmuch.
ButIcan’ttakeresponsibilityforhislifewhenI’mbarelycapableofrunningmine.
Afterstoppingbythehousetochangeclothes,Ifinallymakeitintowork,wheremydad’swaitingformeintheoffice.Iknowit’sbadwhenhe’ssittinginMom’schair.Well,mychairnow.Dadhardlyevercomesintotheofficeandabsolutelyneversitsdown,preferringtobeoutatthejobsitesandmeetingwithclients.Themanhasn’tstoppedmovingsincethedayhefirstwenttoworkforhisdadwhenhewaseleven.
“Let’stalk,”hesays,noddingatachairinfrontofthedesk.“Where’veyoubeen?”
“I’msorryI’mlate.Iwasoutandoverslept.Won’thappenagain.”
“Uh-huh.”Hesipshiscoffee,chairtippedbackagainstthewall.“Youknow,Iwassittingherewaitingforyou,andIgottothinking.AnditoccurredtomeIneverreallydisciplinedyouasakid.”
Talkaboutanunderstatement.AlthoughDadwasnevertheoverlystricttype,Iprobablygotittheeasiest,beingtheonlydaughterinahousefullofboys.It’soneofthereasonswegotalongsowell.
“AndmaybeIneedtotakesomeresponsibilityforhowthatturnedout,”hesaysslowly.Pensive.“Allthepartyingandgettingintrouble…Ididn’tdoyouanyfavorslettingyoucarryonlikethat.”
“I’mprettysureIwouldhavedonewhatIwantedeitherway,”Iadmit.
Heanswerswithaknowinggrin.
“AtleastthiswayIdidn’tgrowuphatingyou.”
“Yeah,well,teenagersaresupposedtohatetheirparentsatleastalittle,atsomepointoranother.”
Maybethat’strue,butIpreferitthisway,knowingthealternative.“Iamtryingtodobetter,”Itellhim,hopinghecanseethesincerityonmyface.“Thiswasaslip,butIpromiseIwon’tmakeitahabit.Iwantyoutoknowyoucancountonme.Iunderstandhowimportantitistochipinaroundhererightnow.”
Hesitsforward.“Wecanbothdobetter,kiddo.Truthis,you’vebeengreataroundhere.Gottheplacerunningsmooth.Customersloveyou.Everybody’salwaysgoingonaboutwhatacharmingyoungwomanyouturnedouttobe.”
Igrin.“IcleanupnicewhenIwantto.”
“So.”Dadgetsupandcomesaroundthedesk.“I’llgetoutofyourhair.Considerthisyourfirstofficialreprimand,kiddo.”Hepatsmeontheheadandstrollsout.
Oddly,IthinkIkindofenjoyedthat,talkingwithmyfatherlikeadults.IappreciatethatherespectedmeenoughtotellmeImessedupwithoutbeatingmeovertheheadaboutonemistake.AndI’mthrilledthathethinksI’mdoingwellhere.WhenIagreedtoruntheoffice,IwasterrifiedI’dscrewitup,drivethewholethingintotheground,andleaveDadbankruptandbroken.Instead,itturnsoutImightactuallybegoodatthisstuff.
Foronce,I’mnotatotaldisaster.CHAPTER15
EVAN
Iusedtoenjoybeingaloneonajobsite,hangingdrywallorpouringinadriveway.Givemealistandeighthours,andI’dhavethatshitknockedoutnoproblem.Ialwaysworkfasterbymyself,especiallywhenIdon’thavetolistentosomeasshole’sradioorhimtellingmeabouthissickpetfishorwhatever.Todayisdifferent.I’vebeenattheWesthouseallmorninginstallingnewkitchencabinets,butit’stakingmetwiceaslongasitshould.Thesecabinetdoorsdon’twanttolevelout.Ikeepdroppingstuff.Atonepoint,Idamnnearranadrillovermyfinger.
It’sbeendaysofunansweredtextssinceGenranofffromourspot.Mycallsaregoingstraighttovoicemail.It’smaddening.Shejustdropsallthosetruthbombsandaccusationsinmylapandthenghostsme?Shebarelygavemeachancetorespond.
Thenagain,whatthehellcouldIevensay?Apparently,Ihadn’tbeenthatoff-basewhenIblamedmyselfforrunningheroutoftown.Randallsettheballinmotion,butIkickedthedamnthinginthenet.Goal!Gen’sgone!
Iwasawake-upcallforher.Christ.Myhungover,passed-outselfdrovethegirlIlovemorethananythingelseinthisworldrightoutofmylife.
Damnedifthatdoesn’tripapartmyinsides.
Ifightthepaintighteningmythroat,myhandonceagainsqueezingthedrillalittletoohard.Fuck.I’mgoingtogetmyselfkilledonthisjobifIdon’tstartfocusing.
Butno,Irefusetotakealltheblame.SincewhendidIbecometherootofallherproblems?Seemslikeaconvenientexcusetoavoiddealingwithherownbaggage.Imighthavebeenadelinquentformostofmylife,butatleastI’mnottryingtolaythatblameoneveryoneelse.
“Hey,man.”Gen’syoungestbrotherCraigstrollsintothekitchenwearingaT-shirtandapairofbasketballshorts.Hegivesmeanodashegrabsasodafromthefridge.“Thirsty?”
I’dloveabeer,butIacceptthesodaanyway.“Thanks.”Imightaswelltakeabreak,seeingashowI’veentirelylosttrackofwhatIwasdoinganyway.
“How’sitgoinginhere?”heasksafterscanningthedust-covereddisasterthatisthehalf-demolishedkitchen.Hetakesaseatatthekitchentablethatnowsitsunderadropclothandmytoolboxes.
“Slow,”Ireplyhonestly.“ButI’llgetitdone.”OrLeviwillhavemyass.“Youreadytogetthehelloutofhere?”
Craigshrugs,sippinghissoda.“Iguess.It’sweirdthinkingthiswon’tbeourhousethenexttimeIcomehomefromcollege.”
Hefallsquiet,examiningthewritingonthesideofhiscan.Hewasalwaysaquietkid.FouryearsyoungerthanGenandatotalmama’sboy,which,despitemakingherresentful,alsomadeGenespeciallyprotectiveofhim.
Ileanagainstthecounter.“Whatareyouuptothissummer?Anybigplans?”
Heevadesthequestion,staringdownatthetableforabeat.Thenhisattentionwanderstheroom,hisshouldershunchedlikeakidinthebackoftheclassroomwhodoesn’twanttogetcalledon.“You’llthinkit’sdumb,”hefinallyanswers.
“Whatisit?”Isay.“Spititout.”
Reluctant,hesighs.“JayandIsigneduptodotheBigBrothersprogram.Mentoringkidsandwhatever.So,yeah.”
WhyamInotsurprised?ThosetwowerealwaystheBoyScoutsofthefamily.WhileGenandhertwooldestbrotherswereoutraisinghellandbeingabadinfluenceonBilly,JayandCraigweredoingtheirhomeworkandcleaningtheirrooms.Iguesswhenyouhavesixkids,someofthemareboundtoturnoutstraight-edge.
“That’scool,”Itellhim.“Youlikeitsofar?”
Henodsshyly.“Itfeelsgood,like,whenmyLittleBrotherlooksforwardtohangingout.Hedoesn’thavealotoffriends,sowhenwegettogodostuff,it’sabigdealforhim.”
Craig’stherighttypeforthatsortofthing.Alittledorkyandsoft,butanicekid.And,mostimportantly,smartandresponsible.Leavemewithakidfortenminutesandtheywouldprobablycatchfiresomehow.WhichgetsmethinkingagainaboutGenandourconversationonthebeachaboutfamilyandchildren.Iguesssheisn’twrongthatifIeverhadafamily,I’dhavetoatleastlearnhownottokillmykid.Idon’thaveacluehowmyparentskeptCooperandmefromdrowninginthebathtub.Thosetwocouldbarelystandupstraightaftertena.m.
“She’snotcomingbackaslongasyou’restillhere,”Craigsays.
Ifrown.“Huh?”
“Mysister.Sheleftearlythismorningsoshewouldn’trunintoyou,andshewon’tcomehomeuntilsheknowsyou’regone.”Hepausesknowingly.“Ifyouwerethinkingofwaitingforher.”
Damn.Somehow,it’sevencoldercomingfromthiskid.“Shetoldyouthat?”
Heshrugs.“Youguysfighting?”
“I’mnot.”IwishIcouldmakeherunderstandshecanhavemehowevershewants.Whateversheneedsfromme,I’lldoit.
“Youknow,IalwayskindoflookeduptoyouwhenIwasakid.”
Craig’swordscatchmeoffguard.“Ohyeah?”
“Notsomuchanymore.”
Ouch.Thekid’sfullofbulletstoday.“Thisunfilteredhonestythinggetsalotlesscutewhenyou’reoldenoughtogetyourasskicked,”Iremindhim.
Hehasthedecencytoblush.“Sorry.”
“Sowhat’schanged,huh?”
Heconsidersthequestionforseveralseconds.Then,withalookofpitythatwouldknockothermenoutcold,hesays,“Thebadboythinggetsold.”
Well,shit.
It’snoteverydayIgetdresseddownbyaBoyScout.
Laterthatnight,IhituponeoftheusualhauntsforafewdrinkswithTate,Wyatt,andtheguys.Afteracoupleroundsofbeers,wedriftovertothepooltablesandindulgeinourfavoritepastime:hustlingtourists.Eventuallytheycatchontous,sowestartplayingforfun.Wesplitintoteams,meandTateversusWyattandJordy.Thecashwe’djustsqueezedoutofthetouristssitsinaneatpileatthecornerofthetable.Winnerstakeall.
Fromthenexttable,acuteblondeinapinksundresswatchesme,whileherboyfriend,Ipresume,iscompletelyobliviousashestalksaroundthetablesinkingshots.ImighthavebeenabletoworkupsomeenthusiasmaboutthescenarioifGenevieveWestdidn’thavemyheadinavise.ButsinceshecamebacktotheBay,I’vehadzerointerestinhookupswithotherwomen.Justone.
“Coopcoming?”Tateasksme,shovingthepoolcueinmyhandformyturn.
Ilineupmyshotandscuffthefelt.“Doubtit.”
“Thewifeydoesn’tlethimoutanymore,”Wyattcracksasheeasilyfollowsupmyscratchbynailingabankshot
He’snotentirelywrong.Thoughitisn’tnecessarilyMackenziekeepingCooperfromdrinkswiththeboysthesedays,somuchasthetwoofthemmind-meldingintoasingleentitythatprefersitsowncompanytothatofothers.They’rehappyandstupidintheirgooeylovebubble.Forawhile,itwasareliefwhenMacmanagedtomellowCooperout,butnowtheirbubbleisabsorbingthewholehouse,andit’snotsofunanymore.
Orhell,maybeI’mjustjealous.MaybeI’mresentfulthatCoopthrowshisperfectrelationshipinmyfacebutdoeseverythinginhispowertokeepmemiserable.TherewasnogoodreasonheandMacshouldhavegottentogether,muchlessstayedtogether.Buttheyignoredallofusandmadeitwork.Whycan’tIhavethat?
“You’reup.”Tatesmacksmewiththecueagain.
“Nah,I’mtappingout.”Iglancetowardourtable.“Yo,Donovan,takemyplace.”
“Aww,comeon.”Wyatttauntsmefromacrossthetable.“Letmeembarrassyourassfairandsquare.”
Ireachformybeerandfinditempty.“I’mgonnahittheheadandthengrabthenextround.”
“Well,youheardtheman,”Wyattsays,slappingourbuddyDonovanontheback.“It’syourturntoshoot.”
Ipayaquickvisittotherestroom,dryingmyhandswithapapertowelthatIdropinthetrashcanbythedoor.Istepintothecorridoratthesametimesomeoneexitstheladies’room.NoneotherthanLauren,Wyatt’sex.
“Evan.Hey,”thebrunettesays.
“Ah,hey.”Idutifullyleaninforthehugsheoffers.SheandWyattmightbebrokenup,butRen’sbeenpartofourcrewforyears.Ican’tverywellshunher,andIdoubtWyattwouldwantmeto.“How’veyoubeen,Ren?”
“Prettygood.BeenspendingalotoftimeinCharlestonwithmysister.”Sheliftsaslenderarmtodragherhandthroughherglossyhair,drawingmyattentiontothefullsleeveoftatsonherskin.MostoftheartiscourtesyofWyatt,whodidalotofmyownrecentink.“Howaboutyou?”sheasks.
“Nothingnewtoreport,”Isaylightly.
“IheardGen’sbackintown.We’resupposedtograblunchsometimenextweek.”
“Yeah.Shesureisback.”
AdimpleappearsattheleftsideofRen’smouth.Hereyestwinklewithamusement.“I’mguessingshedidn’tcomerunningrightbackintoyourarms?”
Ismilefaintly.“Goodguess.”
Pensiveforabeat,Renmoistensherbottomlipwiththetipofhertongue.“Weshouldgrablunchoneofthesedaystoo.Orbetteryet,adrink.”
Myeyebrowsshootup.“Youaskingmeout,Ren?BecauseyouknowIcan’tsayyestothat.”Imightbeatotalasshole,butWyatt’soneofmybestfriends.I’dneverdatehisex.
“Idon’twanttohookupwithyou,”sheanswerswithathroatylaugh.“Justfigureditcouldbeamutuallybeneficialarrangementifwewentoutacoupletimes.”Rengrins.“Ourrespectiveexesdon’thandlejealousytoowell.”
“No,theydon’t,”Iagree.“Stillcan’tdothattoWyatt,though,evenifitain’treal.”
“Fairenough.”Shegivesmyarmawarmsqueeze.“Seeyouaround,Ev.Sayhitotheboysforme.”
Iwatchhersaunteraway,hipsswaying.Womenwithasseslikethataredangerous.
Atthebar,Iaskthebartendertopourmeashotofbourbonformyself,thenlineupanotherroundofshotsandbeerfortheguys.Theplaceisn’ttoocrowdedtonight.Justtheusualfaces.SportshighlightsflashontheTVsoverheadwhile’90srockplaysonthesoundsystem.IknockbackmybourbonjustasIseeBillyWestgrabaseatattheotherendofthebar.
Ihesitate.I’mnotsurehe’sanymoreamicabletomysituationthanCraigwas,butI’veexhaustedallotherreasonablemeansoffixingthisthingwithGen.Ifanyoneknowswhatisgoingoninsideherhead,it’llbeBilly.
Settingtheemptyshotglassonthebar,Iwalkoverandgrabthestoolbesidehim.“Weneedtotalk,”Itellhim.“Thehell’supwithyoursister?”
Billysparesmeabriefsidewaysglance.“What’dyoudonow?”
“Nothing.That’sthepoint.”
“Sowhyareyouaskingme?”
Inarrowmyeyes.Thelittleshit’stwoyearsyoungerthanme,andIstillrememberallthepranksGenandIusedtopullonhim,soIdon’tmuchappreciatetheattitudehe’sslingingmyway.
“Becauseshewon’tanswerherdamnphone.”
“Thatsoundslikeayouproblem.”
Cockylittlefucker.“Listen,Iknowshetalkstoyou.SojusttellmewhatIhavetodotogetherback,andI’llleaveyoualone.”
Billyslamsdownhisbeerbottleandhuffsoutasarcasticlaughasheturnstolookmedeadon.“WhywouldIwanthertotakeyouback?Forthelastyear,I’vewatchedyougetdrunklikeit’syourjob,hookupwithanonstopparadeofcollegechicks,fighteveryrichprickyoucangetyourhandson,anddonothingmeaningfulwithyourlife.”
“Areyouserious?Ico-ownadamnbusinessnow.Justlikeyouroldman.Iworkforaliving.How’sthatnothing?”
“Right,abusinessyoudidn’tbuild.Itjustgothandedtoyou,samewaymydad’sbusinessgothandedtous.ButIdon’tgoaroundcongratulatingmyselfforit.”
“Man,fuckyou.NotallofushadMommyandDaddyathomecookingpancakeseverymorning.Maybedon’ttalkaboutshityoudon’tunderstand.”IfeelremorsethesecondImentionhismother,butit’stoolatetotakeitback.Anyway,Istandbymypoint.IfGen’sbrotherwantstopassjudgmentonme,hecansaveit.I’mnotinterestedinhisjudgment.
“Gen’sfinallytryingtogetherlifetogether,”hemutters,slappingsomecashonthebar.“Andyou’redoingeverythingyoucantokeepherdowninthemudwithyou.That’snothowyoutreatsomeoneyoucareabout.”
IhavetoremindmyselfthatbeatingthehelloutofGen’slittlebrotherisnotthewaytogetinhergoodgraces.
“Idocareabouther,”Isayroughly.
“Thenhere’smyadvice,”heretorts,standingoverme.“Youwantmysistertoletyoubackintoherlife?Worryaboutgettingyourownlifetogetherfirst.”CHAPTER16
EVAN
Twodayslater,Iwakeupatthecrackofdawnafteranotherrestlessnight.Ratherthanlazeinbedlikeabum,I’mupwiththesuntotakeDaisyoutforawalkonthebeach,thengiveherabathinthedrivewaytogetherlookingallshinyandclean.Aftergettingdressedinmynicestoutfitthatfallsbetweenfuneralattireanddirtbag,IclipaleashonDaisyandheadbacktothekitchenforanothercupofcoffee.
WhenIfindCooperandMaceatingbreakfastonthedeck,Ipopmyheadoutoftheslidingglassdoor.“Hey.Justsoyouknow,I’mtakingDaisyoutforafewhours.”
“Where?”Coopergruntswithamouthfulofwaffles.
“Sitdown,”Mactellsme.“Wemadeplenty.Haveyoueatenyet?”
“Nah,I’mgood.Ipickedupashiftvolunteeringattheseniors’home.Theladyonthephonesaidoldfolkslovedogs,soI’mbringingDaisy.”
“Isthatlikeaeuphemismforsomething?”sheasks,laughingassheturnstoCooperforthepunchline.
Mybrotherlooksasbewilderedashisgirlfriendsounds.“Ifitis,Idon’tknowwhatit’scodefor.”
“Alright,gottarun.Oh,bytheway,”ItellCooper,“I’mtakingyourtruck.”ThenIslapthedoorshutbeforehecanrespond.
Icanonlyimaginetheconversationthey’rehavinginmywake.HasEvangonenuts?Obviouslyhe’snotvolunteeringanywhere,right?
Well,joke’sonthem,becauseIcertainlyfuckingam.MylastconversationwithGen,followedbymychatwithBillytheothernight,gotmethinkingaboutwhat“gettingmylifetogether”actuallylookslike.Truthbetold,Ihadn’tthoughtmylifewassoscatteredtobeginwith.It’snotasifI’matotaldeadbeat.I’vegotajob—myownbusiness,partly.Ihaveahouseandamotorcycle.AnoldJeepIspendmoretimefixingupthandriving.
PlentyofpeopleIgrewupwitharoundhereaspiredtoalotless.Andalotofpeoplewouldhaveputmoneyonmeendingupalotworse.Still,ifallthatisn’tenoughforGen,fine.Icandobetter.ShethinksIcan’tchange?Watchme.
Startingtoday,I’mhellaupstanding.Easinguponthedrinking.Nomorefights.I’mofficiallyonamissionofself-improvement,acompleteGoodBoyretrofit.Which,accordingtoGoogle,includesvolunteerwork.
Sobringontheseniors.
Atthenursinghome,Daisyispsychedatallthenew,weirdsmells.Herlittletailexcitedlysmacksthelinoleumfloorasshetugsonherleash,anxioustoexplore,whileIcheckinatthefrontdeskandintroducemyself.
AvolunteercoordinatornamedElainemeetsmeinthelobby,offeringabroadsmileingreeting.“Evan!Nicetomeetyouinperson!Wealwaysappreciatevisitors.”SheshakesmyhandbeforesinkingtoonekneetogreetDaisy.“Andwelovehavingprettygirlsaround!”
Iwatchasthemiddle-agedwomanfawnsoverDaisy,scratchingbehindherearsanddodgingthattonguethatjustlastnightgotintothegarbageagain.
Thisdogdoesn’tevenunderstandhoweasyshe’sgotit.
“Yeah,well,weliketogiveback,”Isay,thenregrethowskeezyitsoundscomingfromme.
Elainetakesusonatourofthetwo-storyfacility.Honestly,it’slesscreepythanIimagined.Ihadpicturedsomethingatacrossbetweenhospitalandasylum,butthisplaceisn’tspookyatall.Nooneiswanderingarounddead-eyedinanightshirtmutteringtothemselves.Itsimplylookslikeacondobuildingwithhospitalhandrailsonthewalls
“Weunderwentamajorrenovationafewyearsago.Wehaveafull-servicerestaurantthatservesthreemealseveryday,plusacaféandcoffeeshopwhereourresidentscangrabasnackandsitwithfriends.Ofcourse,forourlessmobileresidents,wedelivermealstotheirrooms.”
Elaineproceedstotellmeaboutactivitiestheyorganizeaswepassoneofthecommunityrooms,wheretheoldfolksaresittingaroundeasels,painting.Apparently,thisiswheremostofmyvolunteerhourswillbespent.
“Doyouhaveanyspecialskillsortalents?”sheasks.“Playaninstrument,maybe?”
“Uh,no,nothinglikethat,I’mafraid.”IdidspendafewmonthsinmiddleschoolthinkingImighttakeuptheguitar,butthatshit’scomplicated.“Icanbuildstuff,mostly.Justaboutanything.”
“Crafts,then,”shesayswithaplacatingsmilethatIchoosetoignore.“Andofcourse,ourresidentsenjoywhenfour-leggedfriendscomeby.Sowecansetupascheduleforthataswell.”
Downoneoftheresidentialhalls,Elainepokesherheadinanopendoorwithaquietknock.“Arlene,maywecomein?Youhaveaspecialvisitor.”
Arlene,atinypixieofawhite-hairedwoman,sitsinareclinerwatchinghertelevision.Shewavesusinwithafrailhandthatlookslikeitmightsnapoffifshemovestooquickly.Butshe’ssmilingthesecondhercloudyeyeslandonDaisy.
“Arlene,thisisEvanandDaisy.They’llbevolunteeringhere,”Elainesays.“Arleneisoneofourfavoriteresidents.She’sgoingtooutlastallofus,isn’tthatright?”
Then,likeshovingakidintothedeependofthepooltomakehimfigureouthowtoswim,ElaineabandonsDaisyandmetothewhimsofArleneandtheWeatherChannel.
“Youbetterbringthecarintothegarage,Jerry,”Arlenesaystome,whilepettingDaisy,whohashoppedupinherlapnow.“TVsaysit’sgoingtorain.”
Idon’trespondatfirst,confused.Butasshekeepschattingupastorm,itquicklybecomesevidentshethinksI’msomeonenamedJerry.Herhusband,Itakeit.
I’mcluelessaboutnursinghomeetiquette,soI’mnotsureifI’mallowedtositontheedgeoftheoldlady’sbed.Butthere’sonlyonechairintheroom,andArleneissittinginit.SoIremainstanding,awkwardlyslidingmyhandsinmybackpockets.
“Isyourbrotherstillupnorth?”sheasksaftertheweatherguyremarksonalineofseverethunderstormsmovinguptheNewEnglandcoast.“Youshouldmakesurehereplacedthosegutterslikeyoutoldhimto,Jerry.Hedoesn’twantmoreleakslikelastseason.”
Inodbriefly.“Yeah,I’lltellhim.”
Shegoesonlikethatformorethananhour,andIdon’tknowwhattodootherthanplayalong.Imean,howareyousupposedtorespondtosomeonewhoprobablyhasdementia?Isitlikewakingasleepwalker?Doyouwakeasleepwalker?HellifIknow.Itseemsthekindofthingtheyshouldputinabrochureorsomething.Infact,I’mstartingtothinkElaineisaterriblevolunteercoordinatorandthatthisgigabsolutelyshouldcomewithsometraining.
“Jerry,”Arlenesaysduringacommercial.She’smademechangethechannelfivetimesinthepastfiveminutesbecausesheneverseemstorememberwhatshe’sbeenwatching,“IthinkI’dlikeabath.Willyouhelpmetothetub?”
“Uhh…”
Nope.I’mnopingout.Idrawthelineatstrippinglittleoldladies.Plus,Daisy’sstartingtogetabitrestless,jumpingdownfromArlene’slapandsniffingaroundtheroom.
“Whydon’tIfindsomeonetocomehelp?”Isuggest.
“Ohno,that’snotnecessary,Jerry.You’reallthehelpIneed.”Smilingbrightly,Arlenestartstostand,thendropsbackdowninherchair,unsteady.
“Here,”Isay,helpinghertoherfeet.Themomentshe’supright,shetightlyholdsontomyarm.“Howaboutwehitthatcallbuttonand—”
“Arlene,sweetie,whereyoutryingtogo?”AbigguyinwhitescrubswalksintotheroomandpriesArleneoutofmyarms.
Iglanceatthenewcomer.“Shewashavingtroublegettingup,so—”
“Jerryisgoingtogivemeabath,”Arlenesayshappily,walkingwiththeorderly’sassistanceovertoherbed
“Youhadabaththismorning,”heremindsherashehelpshertakeoffherslippersandgetinbed.“Howaboutanapbeforelunch,then?”
Whilehehandlesher,IgetDaisybackonherleash,thenfollowtheorderlyoutoftheroomwhenhegivesmethenod.
“ShethoughtIwasherhusband,”Itellhim,bywayofanexplanation.
Theorderlygrinsandshakeshishead.“Nah,brother.Thatoldlady’smindissharpasatack.She’sjusttryingtogetalittlefriskywiththenewguy.Shepullsthisstuntonallthehandsomeones.”Guffawing,hegivesmeaslapontheshoulder.“Andshe’snottheonlyone.Myadvice:Trustnoone.”
Nursinghomesarefuckedup.
WhenElainefinallyreturnsafterabandoningmetothewilds,sheshowslittlesympathyformyordeal.Comeswiththeterritoryseemstobeherattitude;thestaffhasapparentlyresignedthemselvestothelawlessness.Theinmatesarerunningtheasylum.
ElaineeventuallybringsmetoaKoreanWarhelicopterpilotnamedLloyd.Hisroomisdecoratedinaboutadozenoldphotographsofhiminhishelmetandjumpsuit.Whenweenter,he’sinbedgrumblingatthenewspaper,whichhereadswithamagnifyingglassonanarmattachedtothebedsidetable.
“Lloyd,”shesays,“thisyoungmanwouldliketospendsometimewithyou,ifthat’salright.”
“Doesn’tanyoneeditthesedamnpapersanymore?Therearetwospellingerrorsonthispagealone.Whendidthenewspaperstartlookinglikesomelazykid’shomework?”HeliftshisgazeonlylongenoughtospotDaisystandingatmyside.“Getthatthingoutofhere,”hesnaps.“I’mallergic.”
“You’renotallergictodogs,Lloyd,”Elainetellshimwithacadencethatsuggeststhisisn’tthefirstargumentthey’vehad.“AndDaisyisverysweet.I’msureyoutwowillhavealovelytime.”
LloydhuffsandreturnstoinspectinghisnewspaperwhileElaineleavesmewithanotherpatontheback.It’slikesomeweirdhandshake,everyonewhoworksherewarningmenowthatI’veentered,Icanneverleave.
“He’sharmless,”shemurmursfromthedoorway.“TalktohimaboutJessie.Helovestotalkaboutthebird.”
“Thebird”isalittleyellowthingIhadn’tnoticedinacagebythewindow.Elaineducksintothehallway,leavingmetrappedinatinyroomwithacrotchetyoldmanwhoglaresatme.
Inoticeanotherphotoonhiswall,andmoveclosertoinspectit.“YoumetBuddyHolly?”
“What?”Lloydsquintstowardthephotographofhimandthemusicianoutsideavenue,posingbesideabusparkedinanalley.“Yes,IknewCharles.Backwhenmusicmeantsomething.”
“Youwerefriends?”
Daisy,apparentlyafraidofhim,liesontheflooratthefootofthebed.
“Iwasaroadie.Hauledhisgear,thatsortofthing.”Withanotherhuff,Lloydloudlyfoldshispaperandsetsitaside.“WasgettingonatraininNewYorkafterIgotbackfromKoreawhenIsawthisskinnykidwhocouldbarelylifthisguitarandallthesebagsandcases.Iofferedhimahand.”
Lloydseemstowarmupabit,albeitreluctantly.HetalksabouttravelingthecountrywithHolly,ElvisPresley,andJohnnyCash.Runningfromthecopsandunrulyfans.Catchingflattiresandgettingrobbedinthemiddleofnowhere,atatimebeforecallingAAAfromthesideoftheroadwasathing.Luggingguitarampstenmilesonfoottothenearestgasstation.TurnsoutLloyd’sgotplentytosay,ifIjustshutupandlethimtalk.Andinallhonesty,I’menjoyinglisteningtohiscrazyanecdotes.Thisguy’slived
Thingsaregoingwell—hehasn’tonceaskedmetobathehimorcalledmeSheila—untilheasksmetofeedhisbirdandputfreshwaterinthecage.WhenIopenitup,thebirdfliesout,whichdoesn’tseemtoconcernLloydatfirst.
Butwebothrealizetoolatethere’sapuppyintheroom,andshe’sbeenboredsillyallafternoon.
Likeaslow-motioncrash,theparakeetflitsovertothedresser.Daisy’searsperkup.Sheliftsherhead,alowgrowlbuildinginthebackofherthroat.Alarmed,thebirdtakesflight.Daisypounces,snatchingthetinycreatureoutoftheairasitexplodesinaburstofyellowfeathersanddisappears.
GoodbyeJessie.CHAPTER17
EVAN
Me:Hey.Justcheckingintomakesureyou’realive.
Gen:You’vebeenaskingmethatquestioneveryotherdayforalmost2weeks.Stillalive.Justbeenbusywithwork.
Me:Same.
Gen:Yourealizeusuallywhenaguy“checksin”at1inthemorning,it’sconsideredabootycall?
Me:Blasphemy!Iwouldneverbesmirchyourpuritylikethat.
Gen:Uh-huh.
Me:Tbh,Ican’tsleep.
Gen:Same.
Me:Yougood,otherthanbeingabusyinsomniac?
Gen:Allgoodhere.
Me:Dinneroneofthesedays?
Me:Justtocatchup?
It’sbeensixhourssinceGenstoppedrespondingtomytexts.AsIhelpMacsetthebreakfasttableoutsideonthedeck,Ikeepfeelingaphantomvibrationinmypocket,hopingit’sher.Butno.Nowit’sjustbeensixhours,forty-twominutes.
“Grabthenapkins,willyou?”Macsays,handingmeutensilstolaydown.
MymindiselsewhereasIduckinsidetograbsomenapkins.I’dthoughtthingsweregettingbetterwithGen.We’vebeentextinghereandthereforthepastcoupleweeks,justrandombanterorquickhellos.EverytimeImentiongettingtogether,however,sheshutsdownandstopsresponding.Ican’tgetevenafootinthedoor.Shewon’tgoforcoffee,won’teatlunchwithme—nothing.She’sthemostinfuriatingpersonI’veeverknown.Worse,shelikesitthatway.
“Sowhat’syourplanfortheday?”Cooperasksafterwe’reseatedtoeat.“Gotsomeorphanstopulloutofaburningbuilding,orwhat?”
Macpassesmethescrambledeggs.“Stilldoingthenursinghome?”
Daisypokesherheadupfromunderthetabletobegforapieceofsausage.WhenIstarttohandherapiece,Macpointsaknifeatme.
“Don’tyoudare.Thatstuffwillkillher.”
WhileMacispreoccupiedwithchastisingme,CooperslipsachucktoDaisy,andIstifleagrin.
“Anyway,no,”Isayinresponsetotheirbadgering.“I’mnotallowedbacktheresinceourcrazedbeastatethatdude’sbird.”
“Wait,what?”Mac’sutensilsclangonherplateasshedropsthem.“Whatthefuck?”
“Well,ateisprobablyanexaggeration,”Irelent.“I’mprettysuremostofthebirdwasintactwhenDaisyspititup.”
Coopbarksoutahystericallaugh,towhichMacshootshimthescaryeyes.
“Thishappenedlastweek?”sheshouts.“Whydidn’tyoutellme?”
“ItoldCoop.GuessIforgotyouweren’tthere.”CooperwasfallingonthefloorcrackingupwhenItoldhimabouttheincidentwithLloyd.Infact,he’dsuggestedwekeepitontheDLbecauseMacwouldflipout.GuessIforgotthatparttoo.
“Youdidn’tthinktomentionit?”Maccutsaglareatmybrother.
“She’sadog,”hesayslightly.“It’swhattheydo.”
“Thisisn’tover,Hartley,”sherepliesinavoicethatsayshe’snotgettinghisdicksuckedanytimesoon.
“Anyway,I’vegotanewgig,”IcontinuejusttosaveCoopfromtheweightofhisimpendingpunishment.“IsigneduptobeaBigBrother.”
Yup,it’shappening.I’mhoppingontheBigBrothersbandwagon.Itriedoutafewothervolunteergigsafterthenursinghomedidn’tworkout,themostrecentonebeingashiftpickinguptrashonthebeach.WhichwasgoingwelluntilIwasattackedbyahomelessdudeundertheboardwalk.Hechasedmeoffbythrowingbottlesatmyhead.Iswear,nobodyhadwarnedmecivicresponsibilitywassotreacherous.Atanyrate,Ifiguredsomedisadvantagedkidhasgottobelessdangerousthanhobosandhandsyoldladies.
“Oh,Christ,no,”Coopgroans.“Yourealizeyoucan’tjusttakehimtoabarforfourhours,right?”
“Fuckoff.”Justforthat,Istealthelastpancake.“I’llbeagreatrolemodel.Teachhimallthethingsadultsdon’twanttotellkids.”
“Childendangermentisacrime,Evan.”Macsmirksatme.“IfthecopsfindyoustumblingoutofthePonyStablewithaten-year-old,you’regoingtoendupinjail.”
“Asalways,Iappreciateyoursupport,princess.”Theirlackofconfidenceisdisappointingifnotunexpected.“Anyway,he’sfourteen.Plentyoldenoughtolearnhowtheworldworks.”
“Godhelpthatkid,”Coopmutters.
Igetit.They’dratherkeepmeinthescrewupboxthanbelieveI’mevolving.Iguessthat’snotentirelyunwarranted,butanounceortwooffaith,alittlebenefitofthedoubt,wouldbeappreciated.TheymakeitsoundlikeI’mgonnakillthepoorkid.Buthowhardcanitbe?Feedhim,waterhim,turnhiminattheendoftheday.Imean,hell.I’verentedacarbefore.
Isthisreallysodifferent?
HisnameisRileyandhe’satypicalskinnyBayteenagerwithshaggyblondhairandasummertan.Ihadpicturedalittlepunk-asslikeme,somedudewithasmartmouthandmoreattitudethansense,readytotellmetogetbent.Inreality,he’sabitshy.Lookingatthegroundaswewandertheboardwalk,becauseIhadn’tthoughttoomuchaboutwhatthereistodowithhimthatdoesn’tinvolveanyofthenonsenseIwasgettinguptoathisage.
Itwasweird,ifI’mhonest,goingintothepubliclibrarytomeethim.Likecheckingoutalibrarybook,butawholedamnhuman.Iwalkedoutoftherewithapersonit’smyjobnottoloseorgetmaimed,andsuddenlythatseemslikeabigask.Theydidn’tevenhandmeafirstaidkit.
“Sowhatareyouinto,kid?”
“Idunno,”hesayswithashrug.“Stuff,Iguess.”
“Stufflikewhat?”
“Sailing,sometimes.Fishing.And,um,surfing.ButI’mnotverygood.Myboard’skindaold,so.”
He’skillingme.He’sgothisheadbowedandhandsinhispockets,sweatstartingtotricklefromunderhiswispymopofhair.It’sablisteringJunedayandtheboardwalkisswarmedwithtourists,allhotandsticky.We’relikehotdogsinasidewalkcart,rollingaroundineachother’ssweat.
“Hey,youhungry?”Iask,becauseitreallyistooboilingoutheretospendallafternoonwalkingaround.
“Sure,Iguess.”
Cooperwasright—withalackofanybetterideas,IpullRileyintoabar.Well,notexactlyabar.BigMolly’sisakitschykindoftouristtrap,withrandomtchotchkesonthewallandlivemusicontheweekends.Thewaitressesrunaroundinskimpyoutfits.Turnsout,thekidnotices.Heperksrightupwhenhegetsaneyefulofthehostessinacroptopandtinyskirt.
“Heyyou,”shecoosbywayofagreeting.“Beenawhile.”
Iflashagrinather.“Gotatablefortwo?”
Stellaleansoverthehostessstand,pushinghertitstogether.“Who’syourfriend?”Shewinksathim,whichwouldhavebeenmorethanenoughtogivemeaboneratthatage.It’sunfair,torturingthekidlikethat.“He’scute.”
“Riley,thisisStella.”
“Hey,sweetie,”shesayswhenhecan’tquiteworkupareply.“Comeon,I’llgetyouseated.”
“Youeverbeenherebefore?”Iaskhimaswesettleatahigh-toptable.Abandonstageisplayingsomeearlyninetiescovers.Atthebarcounter,collegeguysanddadswhoescapedwhiletheirwiveswentshoppingoccupytheoldwoodenstools.
Rileyshakeshisheadno.“Myaunthatestheseplaces.”
“Sowhat’sthestorythere?”Nooneendsupinaprogramlikethisiftheirlivesaregoingtotallytoplan.“Ifyouwanttotalkaboutit,thatis.”
Anothershrug.“Ilivewithmymom’ssister.She’sanERnurse,sosheworksalot.MymomdiedwhenIwaslittle.Cancer.”
“Where’syourdad?”
Hestaresathismenuwithoutreadingit,flickingthelaminatededgewithhisfingernail.“Wenttoprisonaboutsixyearsago.Hewasoutonparoleforawhile,butthenhetookoff.Gotarrestedagain,Ithink.Myauntdoesn’tliketotalkabouthim,soshedoesn’treallytellmestuff.Shethinksitupsetsme.”
“Doesit?”
“Idunno.Sometimes,Iguess.”
I’mstartingtounderstandwhytheystuckhimwithme.“MydaddiedwhenIwasyoungertoo.”
Rileymeetsmyeyes.
“Drunkdrivingaccident,”Iadd.“Mymomhasn’tbeenaroundsincetheneither.”
“Didyouhavetogolivesomewhereelse?Like,infostercareorwithanotherrelative?”
“Myuncletookcareofmybrotherandme,”Iexplain,andit’snotuntilthisverymomentthatIconsiderwhatmighthavehappenedtomeandCooperifLevihadn’tbeenthere.Funnyhowourlivesteeterontheserails,ridingtheedgeoveradarkunknown.Howeasyitistofalloff.“Doyoulikeyouraunt?Youtwogetalong?”
Aslightsmileerasesthegloomfromhisexpression.“She’snice.Butshecanbekindofalotsometimes.Sheworriesaboutme.”Hesighsquietly.“ShethinksI’mdepressed.”
“Areyou?”
“Idon’tthinkso?Imean,Idon’treallyhavemanyfriends.Don’tlikebeingaroundalotofpeople.I’mjust,Idunno,quiet.”
Igetthat.Sometimesthingshappentouswhenwe’reyoung,andwelearntostayinsideourselves.Especiallywhenwedon’tknowhowtotalkaboutwhat’sgoingoninourheads.Itdoesn’talwaysmeananythingorindicateaboutofdepression.Beingateenagerishardenoughwithoutrealshitgettingintheway.
“There’snothingwrongwiththat,”ItellRiley.
“Hey,boys.”Ourwaitresssetsdownabasketofhushpuppiesanddippingsauce,alongwithtwotallglassesofwater.“Howwedoing?”ThebrunettegreetsmewithawrysmileandanarchedbrowthatsuggestsIbetterproveIrememberher.
Comeonnow.Givemealittlecredithere.“Hey,Rox.How’sthings?”
Atthatshesmiles,satisfied.“Anothersummer.”
“Ihearya.”
Shegivesthekidaonce-over.“Thisguygivingyouahardtime,sweetie?”
“No,”hesays,grinninglikehe’sneverseenapairoffaketitsbefore.“I’mfine.”
“Good.What’llyouhave?”
Rileygrabshismenuagainandrushestoscanitfrontandback,realizinghehadn’tactuallyreadit.
“What’sfresh?”IaskRox.
“Grouper’sgood.I’dgetitCajunstyle.”
IglanceatRiley.“Youlikegrouper?”Itoccurstomehemightfeelweirdaboutwhatheshouldorderwhensomedudeheonlymettodayispaying.Iwould.
“Sure,”hesays,lookingalmostrelieved.
“Cool.We’lldothat.”
Whenshe’sdonetakingourorder,Rileytakesasecondtoadmireherretreatingbacksidebeforeleaningintowardme.“Youknowher?”
“Inamannerofspeaking.”
“Hey,Evan.”Anotherwaitresssauntersby.Cass,ashort,cuteblondeinatanktopshetookapairofscissorsto,wavesasshepassesourtable.
“Youknowalotofgirlshere,”Rileyremarks.
IswallowalaughathowmuchhesoundslikeMackenzieinthatmoment.Everytimewewalkintoaplaceandagirlgivesmeanod,Macrollshereyes.Likewedidn’tmeetbecauseshewasouthelpingherroommatehuntmedownforaone-nightstand.
“It’sasmalltown.”
“Soyou’ve,like,sleptwithallofthem?”
Well,that’smoreforwardthanIthoughthewascapableof.“Tosomeextentoranother,yeah,sure.”
Irealizethenhiseyesaren’twanderingbecausehe’savoidingeyecontactwithme.AsItrackhisattentionaroundtheroom,it’sclearhe’scheckingoutalltheteenagetourists,theboredgirlsperusingtheirphoneswhiletheirfamiliessitaroundtablesscarfingdownnachosandinhalingtwo-dollarmargaritas.Suddenly,I’mjusthopingthiskiddoesn’taskmetobuyhimcondoms.NotthatIwouldn’t,butIdon’tneedtogetkickedoutofanothervolunteerprogrambecausehegoeshometotellhisauntI’mtryingtogethimlaid
“Whataboutyou?”Icounter.“Gotagirlfriendoranything?”
Heshakeshishead.“GirlsthinkI’mweird.Idon’tknowhowtotalktothem.”
“You’renotweird,”Iassurehim.Yes,he’sshy,buthedoesn’tgiveoffanycreepvibes.Thekidjustneedssomeonetobuilduphisconfidence.“Girlscanbecomplicated.Youjustneedtoknowthesigns.”
“Signs?”
“Whenagirllikesyou.Whenshewantsyoutocometalktoher.”
“Likewhat?”
“Well,forone.”Iscantheroomandlocateahotredheadinherearlytwenties.She’ssittingwithhergirlfriendsaroundafishbowlofblueliquorwithfourstraws.“Whenyoucatcheachother’sattentionandshesmilesatyou—thatmeansshethinksyou’recute.”
Rileyfollowsmygaze,hiseyesglazingoverslightly.
Ittakeslessthantwosecondsfortheredheadtonoticeme.Amischievoussmilecurvesherfulllips.Iofferafainthalfsmileinreturn.
“Thenwhat?”Rileysoundsalmosteagernow.
“Yougointroduceyourself.Gethernumber.”
“Buthow?”heinsists,mindlesslypoppinghushpuppiesinhismouth.“Whatdoyousaytothem?”
Me,personally?Notmuch,really.ButIcan’ttellhimtobuyheradrinkoraskifshewantsarideonhismotorcycle.OnceIhadadriver’slicense,allIhadtodowasaskachickifherparentswerehome.Butthat’sneitherherenorthere.Rileyisthesensitivetype,I’dguess.Heneedsadifferentapproach.
“Okay,”Itellhim.“So,ifshe’salone—youneverwanttoapproachagirlstandingwithherfamily;dadsareasurefirecockblock—butifshe’salone,yougoupandsayhi.”
“Hi?That’sit?ButwhatdoIsayafterthat?”
“Askher…”Imullitover.Idon’twantthekidtosoundlikeatool.IfIsendhimouttheretogethisheartbroken,I’mnotaverygoodBigBrother.“Okay,dothis.Youseeagirlyoulike,shesmilesatyou.Yousayhi,introduceyourself,thensaysomethinglike,whatdoyouliketodoatthebeach.Thenwhat’sherfavoriteday.Herfavoritetimeofday.Andonceyougetthoseanswers,youtakeoutyourphoneandtellheryou’vesetareminderforthatdayandtimetopickherupforabeachdate.”
Rileystudiesmewithaskepticalgrimace.“Thatseemskindacorny.”
“Wow.Okay.Gettingheckledbyafourteen-year-old.”
Hesnortsalaugh.
“Look.Chickslikeaguywithconfidence.Theywantyoutotakechargeofthesituation.Showsomegame.”
Heshakeshishead,stabbinghisstrawintohisglassofwater.“Idon’tthinkIcandothat.”
Ipondersomemore.Howhardcanitbetopickupateenagegirlthesedays?“Right,how’boutthis.Youseeagirlyoulike?”
Rileyishesitant,glancingaroundtherestaurant.Beyondthebar,theplaceisstuffedwiththelunchrush.Eventually,hisgazelandsonabrunettesittingwithherfamily;shelookstobetheyoungestoftwooldersisters.Asthegirlschatamongthemselves,themomgrabsherpursefromthebackofherchairandheadsofftowardtherestrooms.
“Quick,beforehermomcomesback.Yougooverthereandsaytohersisters,‘Hey,I’mRiley,andI’mnotverygoodatthisbutI’dreallyliketoaskyoursisteroutonadate,andIwashopingyoucouldhelpme.’”
“Idon’tknow,”hesays,watchingthemwithtrepidation.“Whatiftheylaughatme?OrthinkI’maweirdo?”
“Theywon’t.Trustme,they’llthinkit’scute.Justsmile,benatural.You’reagood-lookingguy,Riley.You’vegotthatsweet-boyfacethatgirlslove.Havealittlefaithinyourself.”
Forasecondortwo,Ithinkhe’sgoingtopsychhimselfout.Heremainsgluedtohischair.Then,withadeepbreath,hegathershisconfidenceandstandsfromthetable.Hetakesacouplestepsforwardbeforedoublingback.“Wait.WhatdoIdoifshesaysyes?”
Ismotheralaugh.“Gethernumberandtellheryou’llcallhertonight.”
Withanod,he’soff.
Roxcomesbackwithourfoodjustashe’sreachingtheirtable,andtogetherwewatchhimnervouslyapproachthesisters.Thegirlslookuncertain,guardedatfirst,butwhenRileygetsafewwordsout,theirfacessoften.Theysmile,amused,lookingattheirsister.Blushing,shesayssomethinginresponse,whicheasestheanxietyinRiley’sexpression.Thenhetosseshishairoutofhisfaceandhandsthegirlhisphone.Theyexchangeafewmorewordsbeforehestrutsbacktousandthrowshisphoneonthetablelikeagoddamnhero.
“So?”Idemand.“We’regoingtoplayminigolftomorrow.”
Iflipmypalmupforahighfive.“Hellyeah.”
Rox’slipstwitchwildly,asifshe’sfightingarushoflaughter.“Becarefulwiththisone,”RoxwarnsRiley,hookingherthumbinmydirection.“He’llgetyouintoallsortsoftrouble.”Withawink,shedashesoffagain.
IgrinatRileywithastrangerushofpridefillingmychest.“See,Itoldyou,kid.Yougotgame.”
Afterlunch,wespendacouplehoursatthearcade.TurnsoutI’mkindofabastard,asfarasthewholeBigBrotherthinggoes.
“Somepeople,”Rileysaysaswe’releaving.“Somepeoplemightfindyourbehaviorinpoortaste.”
“Can’texpectlifetogiveyoueverythingyouwant.”
Itstartedatairhockey.FivestraightgamesduringwhichIutterlyhumiliatedhim.Inthefourthgame,itlookedlikehemight’veturneditaround,goingonaprettygoodrunofscoring,butthenhegotabittoopleasedwithhimselfandItookhimtothecleaners.
“I’mjustsaying.”
“Soundslikewhiningtome.”
“I’mjustsaying,youwouldn’tgotothekids’cancerwardanddovictorylapsaroundtheroomafterbeatingthematMarioKart.”
Next,weplayedSkee-Ball.Idon’tknowifit’shisskinnylittlearmsorlackoftrapeziusmuscles,butIownedhimatthattoo.Ifhehadanycash,I’dhavestartedputtingmoneyonthosegames.
“WhosaysIwouldn’t?Whatdotheyhavetodoalldaybuthonetheirskills?I’vegotajobandresponsibilities.”
“That’smessedup.”
Iwasalmoststartingtofeelbadforhim.Evenconsideredtakingiteasyonthekid.UntilhestartedtalkingallkindsofsmackandchallengedmetoaJurassicParkshootinggame.Atthatpoint,itwasaneducationalimperative—Ihadtoteachthekidsomemanners.
“Youknowyou’resupposedtosetagoodexampleforme,right?”
“Theseareimportantlessons.Eatingshitisthefirstlessonofadulthood.”
“You’reterribleatthis,”heinformsme,rollinghiseyes.
“You’rewelcome.”
We’remakingourwaydowntheboardwalktowhereIparkedmyJeepwhenafamiliarfaceappearsinmylineofsight.She’sexitingthesmoothieplacefivefeetaheadofusandlooksoverhershouldertomeetmyeyes,asifshefeltmecoming.Italwaysstrikesmehowgoodherskinlooksunderamiddaysun.
“Youfollowingmenow?”Darksunglasseshideherexpression,butIknowinthegoadingtoneofhervoicesheisn’tentirelydisappointedtoseeme.ThenherattentionfallstoRiley.“Ohdear.Isthismanbotheringyou?”
“Whydoeseveryonekeepsayingthattome?”Igrumble.“DoIlooklikeIdriveapanelvan?”
“I’mRiley,”theteensayswithashysmile.
“Genevieve,butyoucancallmeGen.”Shenodsinthedirectionwe’dbeenheading,askingustowalkwithher.
Aswefallintostepwithmydrop-deadgorgeousex-girlfriend,it’sasifaswitchflipsinRiley.Hisentiredemeanorchangesashetipshisheadtowardher.“Whatdoyouliketodoatthebeach,Gen?”
Shequestionsmewithalookbeforeanswering.“Well,IguessIliketotanandreadabook.”
“What’syourfavoriteday?”
“Uh…Sunday,Isuppose.”Genlicksherlips,growingmoreskepticalastheinterrogationcontinues.
“What’syourfavoritetimeofday?”
I’mhere,watchingthishappen.Still,Ican’tbelievewhatI’mseeing.Surreal.
“Sunrise.Whenit’sstillquiet.”AnamusedGenwatchesRileypullouthisphoneandtypeinaquicknote.“Whatareyouwriting?”
“There,”hesayssmugly.“Ijustsetaremindertopickyouupforasunrisedateonthebeachthisweekend.”
“Wow.”Sheturnswithanarchedeyebrow,peeringatmeabovetherimofhersunglasses.“CanIassumethiswasyourdoing?”
“Theygrowupsofast.”
Onceagain,I’mpracticallyburstingwithpride.Idon’tknowifRileyisaquickstudyorifI’manextraordinarymentor,butIthinkit’ssafetosayhe’sconqueredhisconfidenceproblem.AlthoughthesuperpowerpersuasionofGen’sspectacularrackmighthavehadsomethingtodowithit.Kid’sbeenstaringsohardI’mworriedImighthavetotakehimhomecross-eyed.
“Imightlookyoung,”hetellsher.“ButIassureyouI’manoldsoul.”
“OhmyGod.”Genplayfullymasheshisfacewithherpalm.“Where’dyoufindthiskid,Evan?”
“I’mhisBigBrother.”
Shescoffsatme,incredulous.“No,seriously.ThisisMackenzie’slittlebrotherorsomething,right?”
“Really.I’mgivingbacktomycommunity.”
“Huh.”
I’mnotsurewhattomakeofherresponse,butatleastshe’snottellingmetogetlostagain.
WhenwecomeuponMac’shotel,Genpausesnearthenewwhite-and-greensignwiththeelegantlyscrawledwordsTheBeaconHotel.Sippinghersmoothie,sheexaminesthebuilding.Thereisn’tmuchgoingonoutsideanymore,asfarastherenovationgoes.Thefa?adeisallpatchedupandpainted.Mostoftheworklefttodoisontheinside.Decorating,installingthemirrorsandfixtures,allthattediousstuff.Mac’sbeengettingmoreanalbytheminuteabouteverymicroscopicdetail.
“I’vealwayslovedthisplace,”Gensaystonooneinparticular.
“Isitopenyet?”Rileyaskscuriously.
Ishakemyhead.“Soon.Couplemonths,Ithink.”
“Thewomanwhoownedthisplacewouldcometothestoneyardsometimes,”Gensays,afarawaynoteinhervoice.“She’dhireDadtodoseasonallandscaping.Therewassomethingsoglamorousabouther,eveninaplacelikethat.She’dbewalkingthroughstonedustandmulchlookinglikeamillionbucks.IusedtotellmyfolksIwasgoingtoworkheresomeday.”
“Mac’shiring,”Itellher.
Gencocksherheadatme.“What,seriously?”
“Yeah.Cooper’sbeengivingherahardtimeaboutneedingtohurryupandpicksomepeople,orshe’llneveropen.”ThoughIcan’tseehereyes,IfeeltheintensityofGen’sinterestinthewayshepressesherlipstogether.“Icouldputinagoodword,ifyou’reinterested.”
Shehesitatesforabeat.Thenshenodsslowly.“Yeah.Yes.I’dactuallyreallyappreciatethat.Ifit’snottoomuchofathing.”
“Nosweat.”Hell,I’mjusthappyshe’slettingmedothisforher,ratherthanmakingitawholeargumentaboutfendingforherselformegettingtooinvolvedinherlife.“It’sdone.”Atthat,though,itreallyistimeIbringRileybacktothelibrary.Iwaswarnedatleastfourtimesthattardinessisfrownedupon.“Listen,wegottago,butI’lltalktoMacandletyouknowhowitgoes.Cool?”
“Cool.Thanksagain.”
ShesaysgoodbyetoRiley,andweshufflethroughanawkwardhugthatstillgetsmybloodrushinglikeIhaven’ttouchedawomaninmonths.Somethingaboutthesmellofsunscreenandherfloweryshampoomakesmeallstupid,andIcan’twalkstraight.Thehazelingersaswewalkoffindifferentdirections.
RileyandImakeitfiveyardsawaybeforesomethingstopsme.Anaggingsenseofmoneyleftonthetable.ThiswasthelongestconversationGenandIhavehadinweeks,andI’mjustlettingherleave?Whatthehelliswrongwithme?
“Givemeasec,”ItellRiley.ThenIdartoff,joggingafterGenevieve.“Hey.Fred.Waitup.”
Shestops,turningtofaceme.“What’sup?”
Iletoutahurriedbreath.“Nobullshit,Itookwhatyousaidseriously.I’mgettingmyacttogether.”
Agroovedigsintoherforehead.“IsthatwhatthisBigBrothersthingisallabout?”
“Sortof.I’mreformed,”Isayearnestly.“AndIcanproveittoyou.”
“How’sthat?”
“Iintendtocourtyou.”
Genbitesbackalaugh,lookingaway.“Evan.”
“Imeanit.I’mgoingtocourtyou.Allgentlemanlyandshit.”
“Isthisyourlatestcreativeattempttogetmenaked?”
Ihaven’theardanoyet,soItakeitasagoodsign.“Ifwedothis,sexisoffthetable.I’mgoingtoprovetoyouI’vechanged.Wooyoutheold-fashionedway.”
“Woome,”sheechoes.
“Wooyou,”Iconfirm.
Twistingherlipsasshestudiesme,Genconsidersmyoffer.Everysecondshe’ssilent,Iknowtheideaisfindingrootinherbrain.Becauseshewantsmetogiveheranexcuse,tomakeitokaytosayyes.Iknowher.Better,Iknowus.There’snoworldinwhichshecanstayawayfromme.NomorethanIcantoleratedistancefromher.Truthis,we’veneverhadanyresistancetoeachother,nochanceofseveringtheimmutableconnectionthatalwayspullsusbacktogether.AndbecauseIcan’tlietoher,sheknowswhenI’msincere.
“Youshouldknow,”Gensays,“youwouldn’tbemyonlysuitor.”
Inarrowmyeyes.“Babycop?”
Shechidesmewithagrimace.“Harrisonaskedmeoutonanotherdate,andIsaidyes.You’vegotsomecompetition.”
Wehaveverydifferentconceptsofcompetition,butsure,whatever.Ifsheneedsaguytomakemejealous,eitherassomeformofpunishmentorjusttokeepthingsinteresting,that’sfinebyme.It’llmakewinningallthemoresatisfying.Becausethisguy’salreadybeenknockedout.Hejusthasn’thitthegroundyet.
IflashthecockylopsidedgrinthatIknowdrivesherwild.“Bringit,baby.”CHAPTER18
GENEVIEVE
I’mnotsurehowithappened.Acouplemonthsago,IwascertaincomingbacktotheBaywasatemporarysituation.ConfidentthatthingswouldeventuallyleveloffwithDad,thehouse,andthebusiness—he’dfindsomeonetoreplaceme,andeveryonewouldmoveonfromMom’sdeath.Now,itseemseverydayIstickaround,I’mdiggingmytoesindeeper.Despitemybestefforts,myinstinctskeepmerootedhome,andmylifeinCharlestonisslowlybecomingblurredwithdistance.
IwakeuptothefaintaromaofcoffeeandthemuffledsoundsofBillyandCraigarguingoversomethingdownstairs.There’sashowerrunninginthehallbathroom,andIhearJaysingingwhatsoundslikeaKatyPerrysong.
Irolloverinbedandstraintomakeoutthewords.Oh,thatisdefinitelyKatyPerry.Imakeamentalnotetoteasehimmercilesslyatbreakfast.JaycrashedherelastnightafterKellankickedhimoutoftheirapartmentbecausehehadahotdate.WhoknowswhereShaneslept.Thatboyisawalkingdisaster
Iwon’tlie.It’sgoodtobehome.
Onthenightstand,myphonebuzzeswithanincomingtext.
Evan:Morning,Fred.
I’dliketosayEvanisirrelevanttotherootsthataretakingholdandtetheringmetothistown.Butsinceagreeingafewdaysagotogivehimanotherchance,I’vefeltnothingbutpurerelief.Myshoulderssuddenlyfeellighterandunburdenedfromtheeffortofavoidinghim.Ihadn’trealizedhowmuchit’dhurt,stayingawayfromhim.
Me:Morning.
Evan:Goodluck.
ThephoneringsbeforeIcanponderthemeaningofhistext.
Wrinklingmyforehead,Iswipethescreentoanswerthecall.“Hello?”
“Genevieve?Hey.It’sMackenzieCabot.Cooper’sgirlfriend.”
Mybrainsnapstoattention.“Oh.Hi.How’sitgoing?”
“Evantoldmeyouwereinterestedinworkingatthehotel.Hegavemesomedetailsaboutyourexperience,butIfiguredweshouldmeetinpersonandhaveanofficialinterview.How’dyouliketocomebyandtalkaboutthemanagerposition?Seeifit’ssomethingyou’dbeupfor.”
Excitementquickensmypulse.“Yes,absolutely.”
“Great.Ifyou’renotbusy,I’vegottimetoday.”
“Givemethirtyminutes.”
Oncewe’reoffthephone,Ithrowmyselfintotheshowerandforegoblow-dryingmyhairtowrapitinatightbun.ThenIracearoundmyroom,diggingoutaniceoutfitthatisn’tstillwrinkledfromunpackingandhuntingthroughboxesandunderthebedforshoes.Idon’tbotherwithmuchmakeupotherthansomelipstickandmascara.Ialwaysdothistomyself.InsteadofaskingforthereasonabletimeIneed,Ipromisetoomuchandthentiemyselfinknotstomeetmyownunreasonabledeadline.
Somehow,ImanagetogetmyselfoutofthehousewithenoughtimetomaketheshortdriveouttotheHartleyhouse.MymindracesoverthemeagerdetailsMackenziehadprovidedoverthephone,constantlygettingstuckontheword“manager.”Honestly,Ihadn’tconsideredwhatpositionI’daimforwhenEvansaidhe’dmentionmetoMackenzie.Somethingsupervisory,sure.Operations,maybe.Butmanaginganentirehotel—events,restaurants,catering,aspa—ismorethanI’maccustomedto.
Thenagain,I’veneverbeenafraidoftakingabigleap.Lookingdownisdefeatist.IfIwanttoturnmylifearound,Imightaswellaimhighrightoutthegate.
Withtwominutestospare,Iringthedoorbell.
Thefrontdoorswingsopentorevealatall,stunninggirlwithshinydarkhairandbiggreeneyes.Iremembercatchingglimpsesofherthenightofthebonfire,whenEvanthrewdownwiththatcollegeguy,butwe’dneverbeenproperlyintroduced.
“It’snicetoofficiallymeetyou,”Mackenziesaysassheletsmein.She’swearingastripedT-shirtandkhakishorts.Theoverlycasualoutfitmakesmefeeloverdressedinmynavylinenpantsandwhitebutton-downshirtwiththesleevesrolleduptomyelbows.
“Nicetomeetyoutoo,”Itellher
Shebringsmethroughthehousetothebackdeck,whereshehasatablesetwithtwoglassesandapitcherofwaterwithlemon.
“Theguyshavedonealotofworkontheplace,”Iremarkaswesitdown.Theshortwalkinsidehadrevealednewfloorsandoldpeelingwallpaperremoved.Outhere,Inotethatthesiding’sbeenreplacedandpainted.
“They’vebeenatitformonths.SeemslikeeverymorningIwakeuptoasanderorasawrunning,andthenIgotoworkandit’sthesamething,”shesays,withanexhaustedsmile.“IsweartoGod,whenit’sallover,I’mgoingtospendtwoweeksinanisolationchamber.”Shepoursusacoupleglassesofwaterbeforerelaxingbackinherchair.Awarmbreezewhipsacrossthedeck,blowingthewindchimeshangingfromtheroof.
“Iknowthefeeling,”Isaywryly.
“Oh,right.Therenovationatyourdad’shouse.Itmustbesohecticoverthere.”
“I’mworkingmostoftheday,soitisn’tsobad.AndwhenIamhome,noise-cancelingheadphonesaremybestfriend.”
“IhopeIdidn’tmakeyouskipworkforthis,”shesays,andIwonderifshe’sthinkingIblewoffmycurrentjobtointerviewforthisone.
“No,”Iassureher.“Mydadgavemethemorningoff,soIdon’tstartuntilnoon.”
Withthesmalltalkover,I’mawarethatIneedtomakeagoodimpressionhere.Evanmighthavegottenmeinthedoor,butawomandoesn’tgooutofherwaytorestoreaderelictoldhoteljusttohandthekeysovertosomerandomtowniewithnosense.She’sabouttogetanuncutdoseofProfessionalGenevieve.
“So,”Mackenziesays,“tellmeaboutyourself.”
Ihandhermyrésumé,whichisadmittedlylackinginhotelexperience.“I’vebeenworkingsinceIwaselevenyearsold.Startedoutcleaningupandstockingatmydad’shardwarestore.Workedsummerjobsasahostess,waitress,bartender.Customerserviceatthestoneyard.Ievendidasummerstintasadeckhandonasailingyacht.”
ItellheraboutCharleston,whereIfudgemytitlealittle.Assistantslashsecretaryslashadultintheroomisbasicallythesamethingasanofficemanager,right?Wranglingabunchofrealestateagentswithmassiveegosandattentiondeficitdisordersshouldcertainlyqualify.
“NowI’mtheofficemanageratthestoneyard.Iprocessinvoicesandpayroll,scheduling,ordering.Thereisn’tanythingthatgoesoninthatplacethatIdon’tkeepmyfingeron.AndIseethatclientsarewellcaredfor,ofcourse.”
“Iunderstandyou’vetakenonalotofresponsibilitysinceyourmother’spassing,”Mackenzietellsme,puttingmyrésuméasideafterreadingitcarefully.“I’mverysorryforyourloss.”
“Thankyou.”
It’sstillawkwardwhensomeonebringsupmymom.MostlybecauseI’vemovedon.I’vebeenoveritalmostsincethemomentithappened.YetIgetpulledrightbackineverytimesomeoneelsepausestoprocessoracknowledgeit.Suckedoutoftimeandtransportedtothefuneralalloveragain,backtothosefirstdaysscramblingeveryoneonthephone
“It’sbeenalottolearn,butI’vegottenagoodhandleonthings,”Isay.“I’maquickstudy.AndIthinknowistherighttimetoleavethestoneyardandhandthereinsofftosomeoneelse.”
Ifgivenhisway,mydadwouldkeepmeintheofficeforever.Despiteourdeal,Iknowtheonlywaytoforcehishandistogivehimadeadline.Icanteachjustaboutanyoneelsetoruntheyardforhim;hejustneedsthepropermotivationtopicksomeone.
“Icanunderstandgettingthrownintothedeepend.Orinmycase,jumping.Imean,whatbusinessdoIhaveowningahotel,right?”There’ssomethingdisarmingaboutherself-awareness,herself-deprecatinggrin.Mackenziedoesn’ttakeherselftooseriously,soit’seasytotalktoherlikearealperson,notjustanotherclonethrowingtheirmoneyaround.“Ijustsawtheplaceandfellinlove,youknow?Itspoketome.Andoncemyheartwasset,therewasnotalkingmyselfoutofit.”
“IhadthesamereactionwhenIwasakid,”Iadmit.“Idon’tknowhowtoexplainit…”Itrailoffpensively.Icanstillpicturetheoldbrassfixtures,andthepalmtreescastingshadowsonthepoolcabanas.“It’saspecialplace.Somebuildings,theyhavecharacter,personality.I’msureyou’veseenpictures,butIwishyoucouldhaveknownTheBeaconbeforeitclosed.Itwaslikeatimecapsule—entirelyunique.Ihavegreatmemoriesthere.”
“Yeah,that’ssomethingthepreviousownersaidtomewhenIconvincedhertoletmebuytheproperty.HeronlyrequestwasthatImaintaintheoriginalintentasmuchaspossible.Thepersonality,asyouputit.Basically,Ipromisednottogomanglingapieceofhistory.”Mackenziegrins.“Hopefully,I’vekeptthatpromise.Imean,we’vecertainlytried.Cooper’sexhaustedhimselftrackingdownexpertstomakesureeverydetailisasclosetoauthenticaspossible.”
“I’mhonestlyexcitedtogetalook.”
“Forme,partofthatauthenticityisaboutfindingpeoplewhoknowandtrulyunderstandwhatwe’retryingtorecreate.PeoplewhocareasmuchaboutthathistoryasIdo,youknow?Peoplemakethehospitality,afterall.”
Shegoesquiet,lingeringonwhatfeelslikeanopenquestionasshesipsherwater.
Finally,shesays,“Idohavesomeotherinterviewsthisweek,butjustsoyouknow,you’recomfortablyamongthetopcandidates.”
“Seriously?”Idon’tmeantosaythatoutloudandrollmyeyesatmyself.Iofferasheepishsmile.“Imean,thankyou.I’mgratefulfortheopportunity.”
Somehow,I’malwayssurprisedwhenanyonetakesmeseriously,especiallyasamatteroftrustandresponsibility.NomatterhowwellIdressupormaintaingoodposture,itfeelsliketheyallseethroughme.Liketheylookatmeandseeonlythescrewupteenagerrunningarounddrunkonthebackofamotorcycle.
Nervesdampenmypalms.IfIgetthisjob,there’snoroomformistakes.Nospendingthenightnakedonthebeachandshowinguptoworklate.Ifhistoryisanyindication,I’mapieceoftwineoveranopenflame.JustamatteroftimebeforeIsnap.Sotogetthisjob—andkeepthisjob—thetrainingwheelshavetocomeoffthisnewlyself-proclaimedgoodgirl.
AsI’mabouttomakemywayout,agoldenretrievercomesgallopingontothedeck.She’sgotthatganglylookthattellsmeshe’sstillveryyoungandnotincompletecontrolofherlimbs.Shenudgesmewithhernoseandplopsherheadinmylap.
“Ohmygoodness.Lookatthiscutie!What’shername?”
“Daisy.”
IrubbehindDaisy’searsandshemakesahappysound,herbrowneyesglazingover.“She’sverysweet.”
“Youwanttohangoutforabit?It’sabouttimeforherwalk.Wecantakeherdowntothebeach.”
Ihesitate.NotbecauseMackenzieisn’tperfectlynice,butbecauseIthinktheinterviewwasprettygreat,andthelongerIstickaround,themorechanceIhavetoscrewthatup.I’mbetterinsmalldosesaroundpeoplewhodon’tknowmewell.IfI’mgoingtogetthejob,I’drathersignthepaperworkbeforemybossfiguresoutI’mapotentialdisaster.
“Don’tworry,”shesays,apparentlydiscerningmyanxiety.“We’rebothofftheclock.Considerthisfamilytime.”
Shewinks,andIcatchhermeaning.Ajobisn’ttheonlythingwehaveincommon.
“Sure,”Iagree,andafewminuteslaterwe’vegotoursunglassesonandarefollowingDaisyassherunsupanddownthebeachdiggingforcrabsandchasingthewaves.
Itisn’tlongbeforethesubjectofEvanrisestothesurface.
“Youtwogowayback,huh?”Mackenziesays.“Itsoundslikekindofacomplicatedhistory.”
“No,”Ianswer,laughing,“notthatcomplicated.Acoupleteenagersrunningamokwhilethetownburnedinthebackground.Prettysimple,actually.”
Smiling,shepicksupastickandtossesitforDaisy.“Thatdoesn’tsoundawful,ifI’mhonest.”
“Oh,itwasn’t.Especiallynotwhenweweredrunk,high,naked,orsomecombinationofthethreemostofthetime.Itwasincredible,even.Untilthebuzzworeoff.ThenIlookedbackatthedestructioninmywakeanddecidedIcouldn’tlivewiththeconsequences.”
“Andthat’swhyyoumoved?”
“Essentially.”
“Evantalkedaboutyoualotwhileyouweregone.”
Iknowshedoesn’tmeananythingbyit,butitseemsthere’snoendinsighttobeingremindedthatEvanwasoneofthoseconsequences.Thattofixmyself,Ihadtohurthim.Maybemydecisiontoleavetownwasrash—cowardly,insomerespect—butlookingback,IstillthinkImadetherightdecision.
“Ihitanerve,”Mackenziesays,pausingaswestrollthebeach.“I’msorry.Ionlymeanttosayhemissedyou.”
“It’sfine.I’vemadethisbed.”
“Hesaidyou’retryingtoworkthingsout,though,right?”
Daisybringshersticktome,pushinghernoseintomyhanduntilIacceptthestickandflingitdownthebeach.Hertailfuriouslyslashesthroughtheairasshechasesitdown.
“He’swooingme,”Isaywithasigh.
Mackenziebreaksoutinagrin.“OhmyGod.Pleasetellmethosewerehiswords.”
“Theywere.He’swooing.I’mbeingwooed.”Ican’thelpbutlaugh.“Weneverdatedinthetraditionalway,soIguesshe’stryingtochangethat.AndIfigured,whatthehell,let’sgiveitashot.”
Eversinceheaskedmeoutontheboardwalk,I’dbeenwaitingforthetugofregret,thejoltofdreadoverthisimpendingdate,butithasn’tcome.WhenImovedbackhome,IconvincedmyselfthatIneededtostayawayfromEvanoutofsheerself-preservation,butthemoreIthinkonit,thelessitmakessensetorestmyproblemsatEvan’sfeet.Hedidn’tmakemedrink.Hedidn’tmakemeblowoffschoolorsneakintoabandonedbuildings.IdidthosethingsbecauseIwantedto,anddoingthemwithhimletmepretendIwasn’tresponsibleformyself.
Truthis,we’rebothdifferentpeoplenow.Andinallthewayswe’vechangedandgrownup,we’vealsogrownclosersomehow.He’smadetheeffort.Onlyseemsfairtogiveitachance.
“Sowhen’sthebigdate?”Mackenzieasks.“Tonight?”
“Nextweekend.Andbeforeyouask,Ihavenoideawhathe’splanning.”Igroan.“I’mworriedtheremightbeacorsageandlimoinvolved.”
Shehootsindelight.“Please,pleasetakeapictureformeifthat’sthecase.”
“TonightI’mmeetingAlanaattheRipTide.Ifyouwanttocome,”Ihedge.“OurfriendJordy’sreggaebandisperforming.”
“Ahh,Ican’t.”Sheappearsgenuinelydisappointed.“CoopandIarehavingdinnerathisuncle’splace.”
“Nexttime,then.SayhitoLeviandTimforme.”Ihesitateforabeat.“Andthankyouagainforconsideringmeforthisposition,Mackenzie.”
“Mac,”shecorrects.“We’redatingtwins,Genevieve.Ifeellikethatmovesusintonicknameterritory.”
“Deal.Mac.”Ismile.“AndyoucancallmeGen.”
“Hey,sorry,I’mlate.”AlanaslidesacrossfrommeatthetablenearthesmallstageoftheRipTide.Herdark-redhaircascadesoveroneshoulder,appearingabittousled.
“SweartoGod,ifyou’relatebecauseyouwerehookingupwithTate—”
“Iwasn’t,”sheassuresme.Thensherollshereyes.“AndevenifIwas,you’rethelastpersonwhoshouldjudge.Yourlovelifeisaseriesofbaddecisions.”
“Ouch.”Igrin.“Buttrue.”
Aswelaugh,Alanaflagsdownaserverandordersabeer.Fridaynightsarehalf-pricepitchersattheRipTide,adealIwould’vetakenfulladvantageofnotsolongago.ButI’mdrinkingavirginmaitai,whichisdamngoodifI’mbeinghonest.Whoknewthetasteofvirgincocktailswouldstartgrowingonme.
“What’stheholdup?”sheasks,noddingtowardtheemptystage.“Weren’ttheysupposedtogoonatnine?”
“Technicaldifficulties.”Abouttenminutesago,oneofJordy’sbandmatescameuptothemictomakeavagueannouncement.Naturally,I’dtextedJordyformoredetails,andheadmittedtheirsteeldrumplayershowedupwithahangoverandhasbeenpukingbackstagesincehisarrival.
“Technicaldifficulties?”Alanasaysknowingly.
“Yeah,asin,Juanistechnicallyhavingdifficultiesnotprojectile-vomitingalltheJ?gerbombsheinhaledlastnight.”
Shegivesaloudsnicker,beforesmoothingoutherrumpledhair.“SorryIlooklikeascrub.Icamestraightfromtheclub.Iwascaddyingtodayanditwassowindy.Ididn’thaveanelastic,somyhairwasblowingallovertheplace.”
Iwrinklemyforehead.“Ididn’tknowyouwereworkingatthecountryclubagain.WhathappenedtothereceptionistgigattheAvalonBee?”
“I’mdoingboth.”Sherubshertemples,visiblytired.“I’msavingupforanewcarbecauseoldBetsy’sengineisfinallythreateningtogiveoutforgood.SoIcalledmyoldbossatTheManorandshegavemeafewshiftsaweekoverthere.Imightbelandingabettergig,though—someladyattheclubapproachedmeaboutpossiblyworkingasheraupairfortherestofthesummer.Iguesstheircurrentonejustupandquit.”
“Anaupair?Yourealizethat’sjustafancywordfornanny,right?Also,youhatekids,”Iremindher,thensnickeratthethoughtofAlanawranglingabunchofscreamingkidsintoaminivan.She’dkillthemintwodays,tops.
“Nah,Icantoleratekids.WhatIcan’ttolerateiscaddyingforonemorepompousjackass.Iswear,thegrouptodayhadfourofthemandtheyalltookturnsofferingtobuymeexpensiveshitinexchangeforsex.”Shesnorts.“Onesaidhe’dsettleforahandyinthebathroom,whichwassweetofhim.”
“Gross.”Itakeasipofmydrink.“Speakingofcareerchanges,IhadajobinterviewtodaywithMackenzie.”
“Yeah?How’dthatgo?”
“Good,Ithink.Shesaidshe’llbeintouchonceshe’sdoneinterviewingallthecandidates.”
AfterourserverdropsoffAlana’sbeer,sheclinksherbottleagainstmyglass.“Cheers,babe.Gladyou’rehome.”
“Gladtobehome.”
“DidyouendupreachingHeidi?HerphonekeptgoingtovoicemailwhenIcalled.”
Asighslipsout.“She’shangingoutwithmybrothertonight.Ithinkthey’rewatchingamovieathisplacewithKellanservingasthirdwheel.”
“Kinky.”
“Pleasedon’teversaythewordkinkywhenwe’rediscussingtwoofmybrothers.Thankyou.”
Alanasnorts.“Ican’tbelieveshe’sstilldatingJay.Nooffense,butHeidieatsguyslikehimforbreakfast.”
“Iknow,right?Buthey,itseemstobeworking.Iguessoppositesreallydoattract.”
Webothwincewhenthescreechofmicrophonefeedbackpiercesthroughthelowmurmurofvoicesinthedivebar.Goodbye,eardrums.Turningtothestage,Iseethekeyboardistadjustinghismic,whileJordysettlesonastoolwithhisguitar.Theotherbandmemberstakethestage,includingaverypaleJuan,whostaggerstowardhisdrum.
Alanacackles.“Tenbuckssaysheturnsgreenandrunsoffthestageafterthreesongs.”
“Isayheonlylaststwo.”
“Deal.”
We’rebothwrong.Halfwaythroughthefirstsong—aprettygoodBobMarleycover—poorJuangags,slapsahandoverhismouth,andpracticallydivesbackstage.Laughterbreaksoutinthebar,alongwithseveralloudwhistlesandsomeapplause.
“Lookslikewegotabirddown,”Mase,thesmooth-voicedleadsinger,drawlsintothemic.“Butdon’tyouworry,mylittlepelicans,we’regonnakeepchirpingwithouthim.”
DidImentionJordy’sbandiscalledThreeLittleBirds?Withoutfail,everyoneoftheirsetsinvolvesanobsceneamountofbirdreferencesandincrediblyunfunnyfowlpuns.
“Hey,girlies,”saysafamiliarvoice,andthenourfriendLaurensidlesuptous.Sheleansdowntosmackakissonmycheek.“Westillonforlunchnextweek?”sheasksme.
“Absolutely.It’sbeenagessincewehadapropercatch-up.”We’veknownRensincegradeschool,butshe’sbeenjoinedatthehipwithWyattthesepastfewyears.She’soneofthosechickswhodisappearswhenshehasaboyfriendandthencomesslinkingbackwheneverthey’reonabreak.Oroverforgood,whichseemstobethecasethistime
Still,Ren’sgoodpeople.She’shilariousandalwayshasyourback.
WhichiswhyI’mslightlyconfusedbyAlana’sreactiontoourfriend.Afteralacklusterhello,Alanabusiesherselfbystudyingthelabelonherbottle,asifshe’sneveractuallyreadtheingredientsinaCoronabeforeandmustknowwhattheyare.Rightnow.
Itdoesn’ttakelongtofigureoutwhat’swhat,though.
“Ihearyou’vebeenspendingalotoftimewithWyatt,”RensaystoAlana.Hertonehasgonefrosty,butshe’sstillgotasmilepastedon.
“Well,yeah,we’refriends,”Alanaanswers.Hertonehasdroppedseveraldegreestoo.
Renpausesthoughtfully.“Friends,huh.”
“Yes,Ren.We’refriends.”Alanagivesherapointedlook.“So,please,justchill,alright?It’snotlikewesuddenlydevelopedsomerandomfriendshipafteryouguysbrokeup.I’veknownhimsincekindergarten.”
Thebrunettenodsafewtimes,briskly.“Uh-huh.Iknowyouguysarefriends.Butthethingis,youwereneverthekindoffriendswhocrashedateachother’splacesorlayonthebeachstargazingattwointhefuckingmorning.”
Uh-oh.WhatonearthhasAlanagottenherselfinto?
I’mtheonewho’snowfascinatedwithherbeverage.MygazedropstomyglassasIpretendI’mseeingicecubesfortheveryfirsttime.
Alanaquirksupabrow.“Youspyingonusnow,Lauren?”
Ren’sjawtightens.“No.ButIwaswithDannyyesterday,andhesaidhetookadatetotheboardwalktheothernightandsawyouandWyattonthebeach.Andthenlastweek,ShariwasdrivingpastyourhouseatlikefiveinthemorningandsawWyatt’struckparkedoutside.So…”Rentrailsoffdeliberately,waitingforAlanatofillintheblanks.
ButRenoughttoknowbetter.Alanaisnotandhasneverbeenonetoexplainherself.ShesimplystaresatRenasiftosay,areyoudone?
Onthestage,Maseissinginganoriginalsongaboutayoungcouplehavingsexonthebeachatdawnwhileseagullssquawkoverhead.
Despitemybettersense,Igetinvolved.“Comeon,Ren,youknowit’snotlikethatwiththem.”Orisit?Truthfully,IhavenoideawhatAlana’supto.Sheinsistsshe’snothookingupwithWyatt,butwhoknowswiththatone.
“DoIknowthat?”Renbitesout,voicingmyowndoubts.“Alanasureasshitisn’tdenyingit.”
“Becauseshedoesn’tfeelsheneedstodefendherselfoveranaccusationsoridiculous,”IrespondwithconfidenceI’mnotsureIshouldhave.“SheandWyattaren’thookingup.They’refriends.Friendsgotothebeachtogether.Sometimestheygetdrunkandcrashateachother’shouses.Bigdeal.”
“Areyoukiddingme,Gen?Youofallpeopleshouldbebackingmeuprightnow.”Rengapesatme.“YouusedtocutabitchforevenlookingatEvan.Therewasonetimeyoudidn’tspeaktoStephfordaysaftershekissedhiminagameofspinthebottle.”
“Well,Iwasyoungandstupidbackthen,”Isaylightly.
“Oh,really?”shechallenges.“Soyou’resayingyouwouldn’tcareifoneofyourfriendswastakingmoonlitstrollsonthebeachwithEvan?”
“Wouldn’tbataneyelash,”Isay,shrugging.“Hemightbemyex,butIdon’townhim.He’sallowedtohavefriends,andit’sperfectlycoolifhe’sfriendswithmyfriends.”
AsmuggleamlightsRen’seyes.“Yeah?ThenIguessyouwon’tmindifIaskhimtodance.”
Askhimtowhat?Butshe’salreadygone,saunteringofftoward—
Evan.
He’djustenteredthedimlylitbarwithTateandtheirbuddyChaseintow
Asalways,hesensesmypresencebeforeourgazesevenmeet.Hisshoulderstense,chinshiftingtothesidebeforehisheadfollowssuit.AndthenthosemagneticdarkeyeslockontomineandIcanfeelthechangeintheair.Theelectricity.
I’mhelplesstostoptherushofheatthatfillsmybodyandtinglesbetweenmylegs.Evanlooksgoodenoughtoeat.Dark-greencargopantsencasehislonglegs.Awhitebandshirtstretchesacrosshisbroadchest.Isquintinthedarknessandrealizeit’soneofJordy’sshirts,withtheThreeLittleBirdsnameandtrademarklogoscrawledonthefront.Hishair’ssweptbackfromhischiseledface,emphasizingthosegorgeous,masculinefeatures.It’sinfuriating.Whydoeshehavetobesohot?
Renwasn’tmakingidlethreats.Hercurvyframesashaystowardmyex-boyfriend,andshetakeshishandandgivesitateasingtug.Ican’thearwhatshe’ssayingtohim,butitearnsheralopsidedsmileandanodofsurrender,asEvanallowshertodraghimtothedancefloor.
“Bitch,”Igrowlundermybreath.
Alanabarksoutalaugh.
“Shutit,”Iorder,pointingafingerather.“You’rethereasonshe’soutthereprovingapoint.”
AndRen’sdefinitelymakingastatement.Asthesultryreggaebeatthudsinthebar,sheloopsherarmsaroundEvan’sneckandstartsmovingtothebeat.
IbreathethroughmynoseandpretendIdon’tcarethatEvan’shandsarerestingonanotherwoman’ships.Inhisdefense,heseemstobetryingtokeepatleastafootofdistancebetweentheirbodies.Andhedoesn’tlookverycomfortable.Butstill.Hecould’vesaidno.
Wearingidenticallooksofamusement,TateandChasewanderovertoourtable.InoticeAlanastiffenatTate’sapproach.Theygreeteachotherwithnods,asifthey’recompletestrangers—whenweallknowthey’vebeensleepingtogetherformonthsnow.
“What’sgoingonthere?”Tatenodshisblondheadtowardthedancefloor
“Ren’spissedatmesoshe’sretaliatingbypissingoffGen,”Alanaexplains,thentakesalongswigofbeer,drainingtherestofthebottle.
“Howdoesthatmakeanysense?”Chaselooksconfused.
“Itdoesn’t,”Igrindoutthroughclenchedteeth.Myfistsareclenchedtoo,becauseRen’shandsareveeringdangerouslyclosetoEvan’sass.WouldIbebreakingmygoodgirlvowsifImarchedoverthereanddraggedherawayfromhimbythehair?Probably.
EvanseeksoutmyeyesoverRen’sshoulder,frowningslightlywhenhediscernsmyexpression.Yeah,heknowsmyfeelingsonthismatter.I’veneverbeengoodathidingmyjealousy.
“Gonnagrabdrinks,”Tatesays.HenudgesAlana’sarm,thengesturestoheremptybottle.“Wantarefill?”
“Nah.Thanks,though.”Tomysurprise,Alanaslidesoutofherchair.“GenandIwereabouttotakeoff.We’remeetingSteph.”
Idon’tcallheroutonthelies.Frankly,Iwouldn’tmindgettingoutofheretoo.BeforeIdosomethingI’mgoingtoregret.It’stakingallmywillpowernottoripRenawayfromEvanandfuckhimrightthereinfrontofeveryonetostakemyclaim.Andthat’sterrifyingtome.He’snotmineanymore.Ihavenoclaimsonhim,andtheseraw,visceralemotionsheevokesinmearetoooverwhelming.
“Yeah.”IstandupandtouchChase’sarm.“WouldyoutellJordywehadtoduckoutearly,butthathetotallycrushedittonight?”
“Surething,”Chasesayseasily.
“Alana—”Tatestarts,thenstopsabruptly.Hisblueeyescloudoverforasecondbeforetakingonacarelessveil.“Enjoytherestofyournight.”
“Youtoo.”
AlanaandIpracticallysprintoutofthebar.IfeelEvan’sgazeboringaholeintomybackasweflee.
“Areyougoingtoexplainwhatthatwasallabout?”Igrumbleaswestepintothewarmnightbreeze.
Alanajustsighs.“Idon’twanthimtothinkwe’retogether,soeverynowandthenIremindhimbybeingabitch.”
Inodslowly.“Fine.AndWyatt?Yougoingtotellmewhatthehellishappeningthere?”
Herexpressiondarkens.“Itoldyoubefore,there’snothinghappeningexceptthathethinkshehasacrushonme.”
“Maybehedoes.”
“Hedoesn’t,”shesaysflatly.“We’vebeenfriendsforever,andhedoesn’tknowwhathe’sfuckingtalkingabout.”
Inotherwords,backoff.SoIdo.Idon’tpressher,andinreturnshedoesn’tpressmeaboutwhat’shappeningbetweenmeandEvan.NotthatIwouldhavebeenabletoanswerthatquestion.MyfeelingsforEvanHartleyhavealwaysbeenfartoocomplicatedtoarticulate.
AlanaandIpartways.Tenminuteslater,I’mpullingintomydrivewayathomewhenmyphonebuzzes.Ifishitoutofthecupholderandcheckthescreen.
Evan:Why’dyourunoff?
Sighing,Itapoutaquickresponse.
Me:Alanawasn’tinthemoodforTate.
Theurgetotypeafollow-upmakesmyfingersitch.Itrytoresistitandfail.
Me:AndIwasn’tinthemoodtowatchyourubbingupalloverRen.
Evan:Ha!Shewasrubbingupalloverme.Iwasaninnocentbystander.
Me:I’msureitwastortureforyou.
Evan:Itwas.Wheneverthere’sachickgrindinguponme,mypoordickyellsatmeanddemandstoknowwhythatchickisn’tyou.
Mycheeksfeelwarmallofasudden.He’snotthemostpoeticmanoutthere,buthedoeshaveawaywithwords.Andthosewordsneverfailtoturnmeon
Me:Ithoughtyouwerereformed.“We’renothavingsex,yadayada.”
Evan:Ididn’tsayweweregoingtohavesex.Justthatmydickmissesyou.
Me:YoustillwithRen?
Evan:No,shewanderedoffthemomentsherealizedshedidn’thaveanaudienceanymore.Justchillingwiththeboysnow.
There’sashortdelay.Then:
Evan:Westillonfornextweekend?
Thisismychancetobackout.Tosay,“Youknowwhat,Ichangedmymindaboutthewholewooingthing.Let’sjusttrytobefriends.”
WhatIsayinsteadis:
Me:Yes.CHAPTER19
EVAN
Wyatttapstwofingersonthekitchentable.Cooperalsochecksaftertheturn.I’msittingonapossiblejack-highstraight,butI’vegotafairlygoodideathatTate’sgottheking,andI’mnotabouttoblowmystacktoseetheriver.Icheck.
“Tate,it’syourcall,hurryup,”Wyattshouts.
“Hechecks,”Coopsays,huffingashepeeksathiscardsagain,likethey’vechangedsincehelookedatthemtwentysecondsago.
“Yeah,Ibetyourpairofthreessayshechecks.”
“Thenyoushouldhaveraised,”CooptellsWyatt,gettingirritated.“Let’sseethatkingalready.”Atthat,Wyattshakeshisheadwithaknowingsmile.BecauseCoopisapoorsportandit’ssortofarunninggagatthispoint
Whenwewerekids,he’dstealfromthebankinMonopolyandthrowafitwhenhewaslosing.Afternumeroustantrums,westartedegginghimonforfunjusttoseethefireworks.Really,it’soneofthefewthingsthatkeepspokerinterestingwhenI’mplayingmybrother.Playwithanyonelongenoughandthereceasestobeanymysteryleft.Withtwins,it’sworse.Imightaswellbestaringathiscards.Wecan’tbluffeachother.
“Tate,whatthehell?”Wyattyells.“I’mabouttodivvyupyourchips.”
“Coming,”hecallsfromthegarage,wherewekeepthedrinkcoolers.
“Icheck,”Chasesays,skippingTate.
“Anddealerchecks.”OuroldhighschoolbuddyLukeburnsonecardoffthetopofthedeckandturnsthenextfaceuponthetable.“Queenofclubs.Possiblestraight,possibleroyalflushontheboard.”
“Oh,comeon.That’snotcool.”Tatecomesinwithhisarmsfullandsetsseveralbeersonthekitchencounter.“Iwasgoingtoraise.”
CoopandIsmirkateachotheracrossthetable.Hedefinitelyhastheking.Webothfoldoutofturn.
“Yeah,screwyouboth,”Tatesays,watchinghisbesthandofthenightgobellyup.
“Where’dyougo?Milwaukee?”Wyattreachesoutanimpatienthandforhisbeer.“Ordidyouhavetobrewthemyourself?”
“Nexttimeyoucangetyourowndamndrink.”
It’sboys’nightatourhouse,ausualpokergamewehosteverymonthorso.EnoughtimefortheguystoreplenishtheirwalletsafterthecashCoopandItookoffthemthegamebefore.You’dthinkthey’dcatchonthattheoddsarestackedagainstthem.Yeteverymonth,heretheyare,swimmingupstreamandrightintothebear’smouth.
Therestofthehandquicklyplaysout,withTatetakingasmallpotaseveryoneeitherfoldsorcalls.Hardlyworththeexcellenthand.Ialmostfeelbadfortheguy.Almost.
“Yougonnahavetheboatreadyfortomorrow?”DannyglancesatLukeforananswer,whileTatedealsthenexthand.Danny’sanotherfriendfromhighschool,atallgingerwhoworkswithTateattheyachtclubasasailinginstructor.
“Weputitonthewaterthismorning.”Lukesighs.“Thething’smoreducttapethanfiberglassatthispoint,butit’llfloat.”
“Thinkyou’lltrytostayontheraceroutethistime?”Coopglancesathiscards,thentosseshischipsinforthesmallblind.
Thebigblindfallstomethistime.Peepingmycards,Iluckoutwithapairofnines.Icanworkwiththat.
“Letmeaskyousomething,”Dannysays,poppingthecaponanotherbeer.“WhentheteenagegirlontheJetSkihadtotowyoursadlittledinghybacktothedock,didyourballsphysicallyrecedebackintoyourbody,orjustfalloffaltogether?”
Lukeflicksabottlecapthatsmackshimbetweentheeyes.“Askyourmom.Theywereinhermouthlastnight.”
“Dude.”Dannydeflates,hisexpressionsad.“That’snotcool.Mydad’sinthehospital.Hehastohaveherniasurgeryfromrailingyoursisterlastnight.”
“Whoa.”Lukeflinches,staringhorrifiedatDanny.“Toofar,man.That’smessedup.”
“What,howisthatdifferent?”
Theygoonlikethat,occasionallyrememberingtocallorraiseasTatelaysdowntheflopthentheturn.MeanwhilenooneisnoticingI’mrunninguponafullhouse.Easymoney.
“I’mracingtomorrow,”Isaycasually,raisingthepotagain.
“Wait,what?”Cooperarchesaneyebrowatme.“Intheregatta?”
Ishrugwhiletheguyscallmybettoseetheriver.“Yeah.Rileymentioneditsoundedlikefun,soIputournamesin.”
“Riley?”Tateasksblankly.
“HisLittleBrother,”Chasesupplies.
“Youguyshaveanotherbrother?”
“No,nimrod.”Chaseshakeshishead.“HisLittleBrother,likethatcharitything.”
“Wheredidyougetaboat?”Tatedemands,dealingouttherivercard.Andthere’smyflush.
“WeirdPetehadoneattheyard,”Itellhim,watchingeveryonelimpintothepot.“Someguystoppedpayingrentafewmonthsago,soit’sbeensittingaround.”
“Youdorealizeyoudon’tknowanythingaboutsailing,right?”Coop’sbeenpayingattention,though,andhequietlyfolds.
“Iwatchedacouplevideos.Anyway,Rileycansail.Howhardcanitbe?”
Theregattaisanannualeventinthebay.It’sashortcourse,theentrantsafairlyevenmixoftouristsandlocalssailingtwo-mancrewsonlittleboats.Someoftheguyshavecompetedforyears,butthiswillbemyfirsttime.WhileIwarnedhimwemightbeluckytofinishatall,RileyseemedstokedontheideawhenIbroughtitup.IfiguredIoughttostartrelatingtowhathe’sintoifI’mgoingtotakethisBigBrotherthingseriously.
“Welp,”Dannysayswithaself-assuredgrin.“Goodluckwiththat.”
Iwinthepotwithlittletrouble,theguysalllookingatthetableliketheyblackedoutforthelasttenminutes,uncertainhowtheyletmerunawaywiththatone.Poker’sasmuchagameofmisdirectionasanythingelse.
“IhopeArlenecancomeoutfortherace.”It’sCooper’sturntodeal.Hetossesthecardsatuswhilepeeringatmesideways.“I’msureshe’dhatetomissyourbigday.”
“Eatme.”Mycardsaretrash.BestIcanhopeforistopickupafloppair.
Luketuckshiscardsawayliketheytriedtobitehim.“Who’sArlene?”heasks.
Mybrothergrinsbroadly.“Evan’sgotastalker.”
“Jealous,”Ianswer.
Coopercontinues,chucklingtohimself.“Oldladyfromthenursinghomegothisnumbersomehowandcallshimatallhours.She’ssmitten.”
“Youshouldhitthat.”TatechuckshisemptybeerbottleinthegarbagecanandisrewardedwithaglarefromCooperwhenwehearitshatter.“Oldbroadsputout.”
“First,gross,”Isay,stunnedasIfindmyselfwiththreeofakindwhenCooperdealstheflop.“Second,I’vetakenanewvowofabstinence.”
Wyattsnorts.“Comeagain?”
“Notanytimesoon,”Cooperanswers,swallowingalaugh.Child.
“Yougottheclaporsomething?”Dannygetssomebrightideatostealthispotandsplashesitwithanoveraggressiveraisethatsayshe’sworkingonafullhouse.
“No.”Irollmyeyes.“Callitaspiritualcleanse.”
Tatecoughsouta“horseshit”whilefolding.
“IsayEvandoesn’tmakeitoneweek.”Dannythrowsaten-dollarbillonthetable.Dick.
“I’lltakethataction,”Coopscoopsupthebill,addinghisowntoit.“Anyonesayfivedays?”
“Igotfive.”Tateslapsdownhismoney.
“Wait,doesthestrangercount?”Wyattmakesajerkingmotionintheairwithhislefthand.
“Youoffering?”Iwinkathim.
Heflipsuphismiddlefinger,thenplaceshisten-dollarbetthatIwon’tlastforty-eighthours.Myfriendsaresupremejackasses.
Wekeepplaying.Afewbeersinnow,everyone’splayingwithoneeyeclosed,fastandloosewiththeirchips.Whichisfinebyme,asItakenearlythreehandsinarow.
“SoMacwenttopickupStephforbrunchtheotherday,”Coopersays,contemplatinghiscards.“Saidyourcarwasoutsideinthesameplaceitwasparkedthenightbefore.”HeaimstheaccusationatTate.“What’supwithyouandAlana?”
Tateshrugswhilepretendingtocounthischips.“Wehookupsometimes.It’snotserious.Justgreatsex.”
It’sbeen“notserious,greatsex”forawhilenow.Longenoughthatsomepeoplemightstartmistakinghabitforaddiction.Andaddictionforcommitment.Whichistosay,ifTate’snotcareful,he’llfindhimselfsettlingdownwhetherherealizesitornot.It’suncertain,atthispoint,whetherhe’sgivenanythoughttotheideabeyondthespecialkindofdenialthatisfriendswithbenefits.Cooperfoundhimselfinasimilartraplastyear,whichdamnnearsplitourcrewrightdownthemiddlewhenitlookedlikehimandHeidiwereheadedforwar.Thankfully,theycalledacease-firebeforemoredamagewasdone.
Thenagain,there’salottobesaidforgreatsex.GenandIhavegreatsex.Phenomenal,even.Thekindofsexthatmakesaguyforgetaboutpromisesandgoodbehavior.Butforthetimebeing,goodbehaviorismycreed.ImadeacommitmenttoGen,andIwanttoshowherIcanbetrustedtokeepmydickinmypants.It’llbeworthit.Eventually.OrsoIhope,anyway.
“Ofcourseit’snotserious,”WyattsaystoTate.“Alana’sjusttoyingwithyou,bro.Likealionplayingwithitsdinner.Shegetsoffonit.”Idon’tmissthesharpnesstohistone.
NeitherdoesTate.ButratherthanconfrontWyattaboutwhateverbugcrawleduphisass,Tatethrowsmeunderthebusinstead.“Ifyouwannatalkaboutchickswhogetoffongames,whydon’tyouaskEvanoverhereabouthimdirtydancingwithyourexlastnight?”
Asshole.IshootTateaglarebeforeturningtoreassureWyatt.“Itwasonlydancing,minusthedirty.Ren’sjustafriend,youknowthat.”
Luckily,Wyattnods,unfazed.“Yeah,she’sbeenpullingoutallthestopstogetmeback,”headmits.“I’mnotsurprisedtohearshe’sbeenflirtingwithmyfriends.Shelikestomakemejealous.Thinksit’lldrivemesocrazythatI’llgetbackwithher.”
Cooperliftsabrow.“Butyouwon’t?”
“Notthistime,”Wyattreplies.Hesoundsdeadserious,andthatgivesmepause.WyattandLauren’srelationshiphadalwaysfollowedasimilarpatterntomineandGenevieve’s.Ishereallyoutforgood?Hisgrimexpressiontellsmeyes,yesheis.
ForamomentIentertaintheideaofdoingthesame—extractingmyselffromthispush-and-pullroutinewithGen.Sayinggoodbyetoher,forreal.
Justthethoughtsendsahotknifeofagonydirectlyintomyheart.Evenmypulsespeedsup.
Yeah…
Nothappening.CHAPTER20
GENEVIEVE
“Okay,I’vegotone,”Harrisonsaysaswewalkpastthecrewsriggingtheirboats.He’sbeenatthissincehepickedmeupthismorning.“WhydotheyputbarcodesonthesideofNorwegianships?”
“Why?”
“Sowhentheyreturntoport,theycanbeScandinavian.”Hebeams,soproudofhislatestdadjoke.
“Youshouldbeashamedofyourself.”Idon’tknowwheremylifetookaturnoffthemisspentyouth,coming-of-ageCWdramaandwoundupstrandedinsideaHallmarkmovie,butthismustbewhatblondesfeellikeeveryday.
ThisSundaymorningdateissowholesomeit’salmostsurreal.Harrisonbroughtmeouttothemarinatowatchtheregatta.It’samild,clear,sunnydaywithasteadybreeze—perfectsailingweather.Iinhalethescentsofoceanairandsugaryconfectionsfromthecartssetupalongtheboardwalksellingcottoncandyandfunnelcakes.
“No,wait,”hesays,laughinghappily.“Here’sagoodone.Soonenight,therearetwoshipscaughtinastorm.Ablueship,andaredship.Tossedinthewindandrain,theshipscan’tseeeachother.Thenaroguewavethrowsthevesselscrashingintoeachother.Theshipsaredestroyed.Butwhenthestormclears,whatdoesthemoonlightreveal?”
IsupposeI’magluttonforpunishment,becauseastorturouslyunfunnyashisjokesare,Ilikehowexcitedhegetstotellthem.“Idon’tknow,what?”
“Thecrewwasmarooned.”
Wow.“Youtalktoyourmotherwiththatmouth?”
Hejustlaughsagain.He’sgotthosedamnkhakison,pairedwithatourist-dadbutton-downshirt.ThekindofguyI’dhavebeenmakingfunofwhileIsatwithmyfriendssmokingweedunderthepier.NowhereIam,oneoftheyuppietools.Itdoesn’tfeelasdirtyasI’dimagined.
“Haveyoueverenteredthisrace?”heasksme.
Inod.“Afewtimes,actually.AlanaandIplacedtwice.”
“That’sawesome.”
Heinsistswestopforlemonslushes,thencarriesthembothbecausethey’remeltingquickandoverflowingalittle,andhedoesn’twantanytodriponmydress.Justanotherreminderthathe’sfartooniceforsomeonewhooncestoleagirl’sbiketojumpitoffacollapsedbridgeandlostitdowntheriver.
“Itookasailinglessononetime,”heconfessesasheleadsmetoadecentviewingpositionalongtherailing.“Wounduphangingoverboardbymyankle.”
“Wereyouhurt?”Iask,takingbackmyslushbecauseI’mfarlessconcernedthanheisaboutgettingsticky.
“No,justalittlebruised.”Hesmilesbehindhissunglasses,inthatcheerfulsecrets-of-the-universewayofhisthatmakesmefeelbitterandempty.Becausepeoplethishappyandcontentmustknowsomethingtherestofusdon’t.Eitherthat,orthey’refakingit.“Luckyforme,therewasaresourcefultwelve-year-oldgirlonboardwhomanagedtopullmeoutofthewaterbeforeIgottoexperiencekeelhauling.”
Itisn’thisfault,though,thathemakesmefeelthisway.Harrisonisacatch.Well,exceptthathe’sacop,andI’mafortunatefavorortwofrombeingaconvict.Buttherealissue?NomatterhowhardItry,Ican’tmusterupasexualattractiontohim.Notevenawarm,fuzzy,platonicspark.AfactI’msureisn’tlostonhim,becauseforallhissmall-towncharms,heisn’tadope.I’veseenthewistfulnessthatturnstodisappointmentinhiseyes,theslightfalterinhissmile,attheknowledgethatwhilewegetalongandhaveanicetimetogether,we’renotquitealovestory.Nevertheless,untilIhaveareasonotherwise,there’snoharmingivingthisashotandlettinghimgrowonme.Waterandsunlightworkwondersonplants,sowhynotus?
“Sailing’sfun,buthonestly,it’smoreworkthanit’sworth,”Igrumble.“Allthatrunningaround,pulling,andwindingforafewburstsofspeed.Youspendthewholetimemakingthethinggo,youdon’tgettositbackandenjoyit.”
“Sure,butit’sromantic.Afewropesandsheetsagainsttheforcesofnature.Harnessingthewind.Nothingbetweenyouandtheseabutingenuityandluck.”Histoneisanimated.“Liketheveryfirstnavigatorswhosawthenewworldasitappearedoverthehorizon.”
“Didyougetthatoutofamovieorsomething?”Itease.
Harrisonoffersacontritegrin.“HistoryChannel.”
Avoiceoveraloudspeakerannouncesaten-minutewarningforboatstoapproachthestartingline.Onthewater,maststiltandsway,jockeyingtheirwayintoposition.
“Ofcourse,”Isay,becauseasterribleasitis,Idoappreciatehisparticularsenseofhumor.“Ibetyoustayedupallnightwatchinganeight-partKenBurnsdocumentaryonthehistoryofnauticalexpedition.”
“Actually,itwasaprogramabouthowChristopherColumbuswasanalien.”
“Right.”Inod,smotheringalaugh.“Aclassic.”
I’mfinallystartingtowarmuptothisdatewhenImakethemistakeofglancingovermyshoulder.AfamiliarfacemeetsmygazeassheleadsherfourkidsawayfromthefriedOreostand.KaylaRandall.
Shit.We’rebothfrozenintrepidation.Theeyecontactlastedtoolongtoblinkawayandpretendwedidn’tseeeachother.Themomenthasbeenacknowledgedandisnowbeggingforaresolution.
“What’swrong?”Harrisonsaysinconcern,noticingmyapparentapprehension.
“Nothing.”Ihandhimmylemonslush.“IseesomeoneIneedtotalkto.Wouldyoumind?I’lljustbeaminute.”
“Noproblem.”
Drawingabreath,IwalktowardKayla,whowatchesmewhileshemakesafutileattempttoshovenapkinsinherkids’hands.
“Hi,”Isay.Awhollyinadequategreetingunderthecircumstances.“Canwetalkforaminute?”
Kaylaappearsrightfullyuncomfortable.“Isupposewebetter.”Sheshiftsherfeet.“ButI’vegotthekidsrightnowand—”
“Icanwatchthem,”comesHarrison’shelpfulvoice.ToKayla’sbroodheasks,“Youguyswanttogetacloserlookattheboats?”
“Ya!”theyshoutinunison.
Godblessthisguy.Iswear,I’venevermetanyonesoagreeable.
Harrisonleadsthekidstotherailingtowatchtheboatsgettinginposition.AsI’mleftalonewithKayla,afamiliarnervoussenseofanticipationbuildsinmygut.It’slikehangingmytoesovertheedgeoftheroofwithabackyardfullofchantingdrunksstandingaroundtheswimmingpoolwiththeircamerasonme.Forsomepeople,thefearmakestheirstomachsweak.ButIfindfearisalens.Itfocusesme,ifIaimitright.
“I’mgladyoufoundme,”KaylasaysbeforeIcanarrangemythoughts.Westandintheshadowofashopawningwhilesheremoveshersunglasses.“Forawhile,Iwasrelievedwhenyoulefttown.”
“Iunderstand.Pleaseknow—”
“I’msorry,”sheinterjects,stunningthewordsfrommylips.“I’vehadalotoftimetothinkaboutthatnight,andIrealizenowIoverreacted.ThatIwasmoreangryathavingtofacethetruththanIwaswithyou—whichwasthatRustywasabastard.”
“Kayla.”IwanttotellherIwasoutofmymindforbargingintosomeone’shome,drunkandhysterical.Thatbeingrightdidn’tmakeitright.She’skindastealingmywindhere.
“No,theproblemswerethereforalongtime.Hewasemotionallyandverballyabusive.Butittookyoushowinguptoputthatrealityintoperspective.Tomakemeacceptthatitwasnotnormaltolivethewaywewere.”Griefflickersinhereyes.
“I’msosorry,”Iadmit.ItwasanopensecretthatRandallwasacreepandabadcop,butIhadnoideaitwassobadathome.Inaway,Ifeelworsenow.IfeelsorryforKaylaandthekids,andwhatwassurelyanuglyaftermaththatIinvitedintotheirhome.“Ihadnorighttobargeinlikethat.ThewayIbehavedthatnightwas…I’msoembarrassed.”
“No,it’sokay.”
Shesqueezesmyshoulder,remindingmethatforalongtime,weweresortoffriends.I’dbeentheirbabysitterforyears.IusedtochatwithKaylaonthecouchaftershe’dgethomefromwork.IwouldtellherthingsIcouldn’tsharewithmymom,aboutboysandschoolandteenagestuff.Shewaslikeanauntorabigsister.
“I’mgladitwasyou,”Kaylaadds.“Thingsweren’tgoodbetweenmeandRustyforalongtime,butmyfriendsweresoafraidof,Idon’tknow,pissinghimofforgettinginvolved,theydidn’twanttotellmethetruth.Andthetruthwas,Ineededtogetoutofthere.Ineededtogetmykidsoutofthatsituation.Becauseofyou,Ifinallydid.Andwe’remuchhappierforit.Honestly.”
It’sarelieftohear,althoughunexpected.I’vespentthebetterpartofthelastyeartiedupinknotsovertheguiltandremorseforhowIbehaved.I’duprootedmyentirelifetogetawayfromthecripplingembarrassment.Andthiswholetime,Iwashidingfrommyownshadow.
Ican’thelpbutthinkwhatmight’vebeendifferentnowifI’dstayed.IfIhadthecouragetogetmyselfcleanedupwithouthavingtochangezipcodes.DidIneedtoremovetemptationtogetsober,orhadIunderestimatedmyself?HadIlefttoescapemyworstinstincts,orbecauseIwasafraidhoweveryonewouldreact?
WebothglancebehindusatthesoundofKayla’skidslaughingandsquealingindelight.Harrisonisprobablyenthrallingthemwithamagictrick.Somemoreofhisworld-renownedcomedystylings.
“He’sgoodwiththem,”sheremarks,puttinghersunglassesbackon.
Ofcourseheis.Harrisonhasanaturaleasewithjustabouteveryone,asinceregoodnessthatdisarmspeople.Especiallywithkids,whoseeeverything.
Shetipsherheadcuriously.“Thatyournewboyfriend?”
“No.It’sonlybeenacoupledates.”
WatchingHarrisonwiththekids,IsuddenlyhearEvan’svoiceinmyhead.Iflashbacktothenightatourspot,thetwoofusnakedunderthestarswhilehemusedaboutkidsandafamily.ThepreposterousnotionofEvanasastay-at-homedad,hismotorcyclerustingintheyard.Sure.
Yetasdifficultasthatimageistoconjure,it’snotentirelyunattractive.
AsKaylaandIpartwithahugandnohardfeelings,themayorofAvalonBaytakesthemiconasmallplatforminfrontofthemarinatoannouncetheraceparticipants.Ihalftunehimout,atleastuntilafamiliarnamegreetsmyears.
“—andEvanHartley,sailingwithRileyDalton.”
Myheadjerksup,andInearlychokeonthemeltedremnantsofmylemonslushatthesoundofEvan’sname.IwouldthinkI’mhallucinatingifnotforHarrisonraisinganeyebrowatthesametime.
Huh.
IwonderifEvanremembershecan’tsail.CHAPTER21
EVAN
“Mistakesweremade.”
Rileylaughs.
“Thatmuchisclear.ItmayhavestartedwhenIsteeredusintoanotherboatcomingoffthestartingline.Itmayhavebeenwhenwefailedtomakethefirstturnaroundthebuoy.Who’stosay,really?”
Ahystericalnoiseescapeshisthroat,acrossbetweenasnortandahowl.Rileyhasn’tstoppedlaughingsincewerammedthedock.No,notrammed.Wenudgedthedock.Rammedwouldsuggestagreatrateofspeed,whichIdon’tthinkweachievedduringtheentirerace.
Soppingwet,IwringoutmyT-shirtovertherailingoftheboardwalkwhilethetrophypresentationkicksoffattheotherendofthemarina.
“Dude,”hechokesoutbetweengiggles.“Wefailedmiserably.”
“Nottrue,”Iprotest.“Therewasahighpointtherewhenwemanagedtorighttheshipandnotentirelycapsize.”
He’sstilllaughingaswemakeourwaytothecrowdgatheredaroundtheplatform,cheeringforthewinnersandpolitelycongratulatingallthosewhoplaced.I’mjustgladwe’renotgettingstuckwithabillforsalvagingtheboatoffthebottomofthebay.
Asitturnsout,Ican’tsailforshit.It’shard,actually.Somanyropesandpulleysandwinches,whothefuckknew.Ithoughtyoujustputthesailupandsteered,butapparentlythere’ssuchathingasoversteering,andsteeringlefttogorightforsomestupidreason.Almostthesecondthestartinggunwentoff,wewerediscombobulated.Cameindeadlastaftertippingtheboatandnearlygoinginthedrink.
ButRiley’sstilllaughing,absolutelystokedonthewholeordeal.Mostlyatmysuffering,Ithink,butthat’sokay.Thekidhadagreattime,whichwasthewholedamnpointtobeginwith.
“There’smyguy.”HisauntLiz,apetitewomanwithprettybrowneyesandlonghairtiedinalowponytail,findsusamongthespectatorsandgiveshimahug.“Youhavefun?”
“Itwasablast,”Rileysays.“Foraminutethere,Ithoughtweweregoners.”
“Oh,”shesays,coveringheralarmwithalaugh.“Well,I’mgladyoubothsurvived.”
“Don’tworry.I’mamuchbetterswimmerthanIamasailor.Iwouldn’tletyourkiddrown.”Isaythis,ofcourse,shirtless,withafullbackoftattoos.LadyprobablythinksIlookmorelikeRiley’sdrugdealerthanhisrolemodel.
“CanIhavesomemoneyforthehotdogstand?”Rileypleads.“I’mstarving.”
Withanindulgentsmile,Riley’saunthandshimafewbucksandsendshimoff.
“Trustme,”Iassureher,nowconcernedthatputtingakid’slifeinmortalperilmightreflectpoorlyonmyparticipationintheprogram.“Hewasn’tinanydanger.Justaminormishap.”
Lizwavesoffmyconcern.“I’mnotworried.Hehasn’thadthismuchfuninalongtime.”
IthinkabouttheRileyImetthatfirstafternoon—theshy,quietteenwhospentthefirstcouplehoursstaringathisfeetandmumblingtohimself.Cuttotoday,wherehe’sshoutingcommandsatmeandtakingsnarkyjabsatmylackofnauticalprowess.Idon’tknowifit’swhattheprogramhadinmind,butI’dcallthatimprovement.Forourrelationship,atleast.
“He’sacoolkid.Whoknows,maybehecanteachmehowtosailandwecantryagainnextyear.”IsurprisemyselfwhenitoccurstomewhatI’vejustsaid.Ihadn’tgivenmuchthoughttohowlongthisarrangementwouldlast.ButnowthatIgiveitsomeconsideration,Icouldn’timagineRileyandInotbeingpalsayearfromnow.
“Youknow,Ithinkyoumeanthat.”Lizstudiesme,andIcan’thelpwonderingwhatshesees.“Idoappreciateeverythingyou’vedoneforhim.Iknowit’sonlybeenacoupleweeks,butyou’restartingtomeanalottoRiley.You’regoodforhim.”
“Yeah,well…”Islidemysunglassesonandmakeanotherattemptatwringingoutmywetshirt.“He’snotatotalasshole,so…”
Shelaughsatthat,lettingmeoffthehook.I’veneverbeengreatattakingcompliments.Beingtheconsummatescrewupdoesn’toftengivealotofreasonforpraise,soIguessyoucansayIhaven’thadmuchpractice.Andyetsomehow,thiskidturnsouttobeoneofthefewthingsI’vegottenright.I’veseenhimseveraltimesaweekformorethantwoweeks,anddespiteallodds,Ihaven’tscrewedhimupyet.
“IneedtogethimhomesoIcanheadtowork,”Riley’sauntsays.“ButI’dlikeitifyoucamebyfordinneronenight.Thethreeofus.Maybenextweek?”
ThefleetingnotionofwhatwouldbeinsomealternateuniverseifLiztookashinetomeskipsthroughmybrain.UntilIglanceoverhershouldertospotblackhairandlong,tanlegs,andtheuniverse—thisuniverse—remindsmethere’sonlyonewomanformeonthisplane.
Genisstruttingdowntheboardwalkinsomegirlywhitedressthatgetsmybloodhot.Becauseshe’strying.She’stryingtoimpressthisdweeb,tolookthepartbydullingherselftohismilquetoastsensibilities.She’sgrindingdownthesharpedgesthatmakehereverythingthat’sfierceanddangerousandextraordinary,andIwon’tstandforit.
“Sure,”ItellLiz,whilemyattentionremainselsewhere.“Let’sdothat.TellRileybyeforme?JustsawafriendIneedtosayhito.”
Ijogthroughthecrowd,dodgingsweatytouristsandsunburntchildrentocatchuptoGen.Then,Islowdownandmanagetogetinfrontofherandtheguy,becausenowshe’llhavetonoticemeandsaysomething,alleviatingallguiltofcrashingherdateforasecondtime.
“Evan?”
IfeignsurpriseasIturnaround.“Oh,hey.”
Icansenseherrollinghereyesbehindthosereflectivesunglasses.Shesmirksandshakesherhead.“Oh,hey?Yougetyou’reterribleatthis,right?”
SometimesIforgetI’veneverbeenabletoputoneoveronheradayinmylife.“Yeah,youknow,I’dlovetohangaround,butI’mkindabusy,so…”
“Uh-huh.”
Withmyshirtslungovermyshoulder,InodatDeputyDolittleinhisstandard-issueTommyBahama.“Niceshirt.”
“Stop,”Genwarns,thoughshe’sstillsmiling.Becausesheknows,dudewalksarounddressedlikethat,he’saskingforit.“Whatdoyouwant?”
“Hey,there’snohardfeelings,right?”Ioffermyhandtothedeputy.“Truce?”
“Sure.”Hegripsmyhandwithwhatmustbealltheforcehecanmuster.Ialmostfeelbadfortheguy.Almost.“Bygones.”
“Evan…”Shecocksherheadatme,impatient.
“Youlooknice.”
“Don’tdothat.”
Ifightagrin.“Ican’tgiveyouacompliment?”
“YouknowwhatImean.”Shelikesit.Theamusementinhervoicebetraysherwords.
“Youdolooknice.”I’llalwaysprefertherealGen,thegirlinapairofcutoffshortsandaloosetanktopoverabikini.Ornothingatall.Butthatdoesn’tmeanIcan’tappreciatethislittlewhiteslinkynumberthat,intherightlight,Icanallbutseethroughagainsthertanskin.“Bigplanstoday?”
“Wesawyourrace,”theguysays.Hecouldtellmehisnameathousandtimes,anditstillwouldn’tstick.Icouldcovermyeyesrightnowandhavenoideawhattheguylookslike.HeshouldhavegoneintotheCIAorsomething;adudethisincapableofleavinganimpressionwoulddowell,Iimagine.
“Itwas,um,eventful.”Gentriesandfailstopretendsheisn’tcheckingmeout.
“Thesethingsarealwayssoboring,”Itellher.“Thoughtwe’daddalittledrama.”
“Isthatwhatthatwas?Drama?”
“Ratherbelastthanboring.”
Evenbehindthosesunglasses,Ifeelherdragginghereyesdownmybarechest.Thewayherteethtugattheinsideofherlipconjuresallsortsofimagesinmyhead.Iwanttoshovemyfingersinherhair,putherupagainstthewall,andmakethisguywatchhermeltagainstmylips.Whateverideasshe’sgotaboutplayingthefieldormakingmejealous,webothknowhecan’tkissherlikeIcan.He’llneverknowhermouth,herbody,thewayIdo.
“Whydon’tyoujoinusforlunch?”thechaperoneinterjects.
EvenGenlookslikeshe’dforgottenhewasthere.Shestartles,glancingoverathim.“No,youdon’thavetodothat.”
“Lunchsoundsgreat,”Isaycheerfully.
“Seriously?”Thistimeherexasperationisdirectedathim.“Harrison.Wehadplans.”
Surprisingly,hedoesn’tbudge.“Iinsist.”
Oh,buddy.Idon’tknowwhathethinkshe’splayingat,butthere’snoscenariowhereheputsGenandmeinaroomtogetheranditgoesinhisfavor.
“Fine.I’mgoingtotherestroomfirst.”Shepointsafingeratmychest.“Behave.Andputashirton.”
Genleavesusstandingoutsideatackygiftshop.I’mcontenttokeepmythoughtstomyself,butit’sOfficerChuckleswhospeaksup.
“She’saspecialwoman,”hestarts.
Thathetalksaboutherlikeheknowsheratallgratesmynerves.“Yep.”
“Thissoundssilly,butevenbackinhighschoolIhadacrushonher.”
Backinhighschoolweweremakingoutintheyearbookdarkroomwhileskippingthirdperiod.
“Iknowwhatthisis,”heannounces,squaringuptomelikehejustfoundhisballs.“Youthinkyoucanintimidatemeorscareme.Well,Ipromiseitwon’twork.”
“Dude,Idon’tknowyou.”Iremindmyselfhe’sacop,andthatIpromisedbothGenandCooperIwasdonepickingfights.Still,he’sgottoknowI’mnottheguyyoutest.“ButifIweretryingtoscareyouoff,Iwouldn’tbeshyorcuteaboutit.I’djustdoit.”
“WhatI’msayingis,IlikeGenevieve.Iintendtokeepdatingher.Andnothingyoudoisgoingtochangethat.Keepcrashingourdates,ifyouwant.Itwon’tmakeadifference.”
Ihavetohandittotheguy.Evenwhenputtinghimselfbetweenmeandwhat’smine,hedoesitwithaBoyScoutsmile.Almostpolite.Civil.
Butitdoesn’terasethefactthatI’dstepoverhisbleedingcarcasstogettoher.HoweverlongittakesforGentocomebacktome,I’vealreadywonthisfight.Hejusthasn’tfigureditoutyet.
“Thenbyallmeans,”Isaywithahalfsmile.“Letthebestmanwin.”CHAPTER22
GENEVIEVE
Thesedays,notmuchsurprisesme.Fortwomonthsnow,mylifehasbecomeapredictableroutineofthenine-to-fivegrind,withtheoccasionaleveningwhereIfindafewhourstohavealife.Thatisn’tsomuchacomplaintasanobservation,becauseIaskedforthis.Iwenttogreatpainstotamemywildertides.
ButEvan,well,EvanHartleystillmanagestosurpriseme.Theweekendaftertheregatta,hepicksmeupforourdatelookingallprimpedandpolished.He’swearingacleanwhiteT-shirtandcargopantswithoutasinglewrinkleinthem.Heevenshaved—anespeciallyraretreat.AndwhereIexpectedoneofhisusualhairbrainedschemestogetusintotroubleonsomeill-conceivedadventure,wefindourselvessittingdowntoalatelunchatamodernveganrestaurantoverlookingAvalonBeach.
“Ihavetoask,”Isay,enjoyingtheroastedeggplantpasta.“Whatmadeyoudecideonvegan?Ican’trememberthelasttimeI’veseenyoueatavegetablethatwasn’twrappedinmeatorcookedinanimalfat.”
Asiftoprovesomepoint,Evandabsthecornerofhismouthwithhisnapkin.“We’regoingagainstthegrain,aren’twe?Ithoughtthatwasthewholepoint.”
“Isuppose.”NotsureImeantwehadtoapplythatphilosophytofood,butokay.
“Cleanliving,Fred.”Evangrinsashepopsabiteofgnocchiinhismouth,thenwashesitdownwithaglassofwater.He’dwavedawaythedrinkmenuwhenwesatdown.“Anyway,afterourlastdinner—”
“Youmeanmydateyoucrashed.”
“IthoughtI’dshowyouIcanbecivilized.”
“You’renotfunny.”
Heponders,thennodstohimself.“YesIam.”
ItwasonlyaweekagowhenhebargedhiswayintoyetanotherdatewithHarrisonatthemarina,smirkingandquitepleasedwithhimself.Imightmusterupmoreannoyanceifitwasn’tsohardtobemadathim.Withthoseeyesthatdancewitharroganceandmischief.Theupturnedcornersofhislipsthathintatsecretsandwhisperdares.He’simpossible.
“Youknowthisisn’twhatmylifeisnow,right?”Igestureattheeleganttablesetting.“Dressingupinourparents’clothes,playingadult.”
Hesnickerssoftly.“Notmyparents.”
“Ormine,butyouknowwhatImean.”
“Youlookedprettycomfortableinthoseclotheswithhim.”
Andwewerehavingsuchanicetime.
Iswallowasigh.“DoyoureallywanttotalkaboutHarrison?”
Evanseemstoconsiderthisforasecond,thendismissesthethought.“No.”
“Good.BecauseIdidn’tagreetothisdatebecauseIwantyoutobemorelikehim.Trytorememberthat.”
This,too,feelsfamiliar—thesomewhatadversarialrapport.Arguingforthesakeofarguingbecausewelikegettingariseoutofeachother.Neverknowingwhentoquit.Wrappedupinsexualtensionsothatourfightsbecomeindistinguishablefromflirting.
WhydoIlikeitsomuch?
“Tellmethis,”hesaysroughly.“Whoareyoutryingtobe?”
HellifIknow.IfIhadthatfiguredout,Iwouldn’tstillbelivingathome,afraidtobreakittomydadthatheneedstomoveonwithoutmeinthefamilybusiness.Iwouldn’tbedatingoneguywhoIknowisaboutasclosetoboyfriendmaterialasanyonegets,whileguardingmyselffromthemillionbaddecisionssittingacrossthetable.
“Atthemoment,sheddingmybadgirlreputation,Iguess.”
Henodsslowly.Hegetsit.
Andthat’ssomethingIappreciateaboutEvanaboveallothers—Ineverhavetolietohim,orconcealsomethingbecauseI’membarrassedaboutwhathe’dthinkofthetruth.WhetherI’mgood,bad,orindifferent,heacceptsmeinallmyiterations.
Iofferawrysmile.“There’reonlysomanytimesagirlcanbreakintothewaterparkafter-hourstotubedowntheragingrapidsbeforedelinquencylosesallmeaning.”
“Ihearyou.ThisisprobablythelongestI’vegonewithoutahangoverorablackeyesinceIwasten.”Hewinksatme,whichmightaswellbeaninvitationtothrowmylegsoverhisshoulders.Getsmeeverytime.
“It’sweird,though.SometimesI’moutwiththegirls,andit’slikeIdon’tknowwhattodowithmyhands.IfeveryinstinctIhaveiswhatwasgettingmeintroublebefore,howamIsupposedtoknowwhattherightonesare?Whatbeinggoodissupposedtolooklike,youknow?”
“You’relookingataguywhoGoogledmodelcitizen,okay?I’venarroweditdowntothis:Whateversoundslikeagoodidea,dotheopposite.”
“I’mserious,”Isay,flingingasugarpacketathimfromtheramekinonthetable.“WhatwouldyouandIdoonanormaldate?”
“Normal?”Hecockshisheadatme,grinning.
“Normalforus.”
“Wewouldn’thaveleftmybedroom,”Evansays.Deadpan.
Well,yeah.“Afterthat.”
“Hitabar.Aparty,maybe.Endupinastolencardoinglapsattheoldspeedwayuntilsecuritychasesusout.Gettingdrunkontopofthelighthousewhileyousuckmeoff.”
Mycoreclenchesatthenaughtysuggestion.Ipretendtobeunaffectedbyhurlinganothersugarpacketathisface.“You’vegiventhissomethought.”
“Fred,thisisallIthinkabout.”
Heneedstostopdoingthat.Lookingatmelikehe’sstarving,withhisteethnippingathislowerlipandthosehoodedeyesgleaming.Itisn’tfair,andIshouldn’thavetoputupwiththeseconditions.
“Well,likeyousaid,we’replayingagainsttypenow,so…”Igulpmyvirgincocktail,stillexpectingtheburnofalcoholandleftwanting.Itseemedlikeagoodideaatthetime—trickmybrainintobelievingit’sgettingwhatitwants—buttheoverlysweetconcoctionfeelslikesuckingdownabottleofstraightcornsyrup.“Whatelseyougot?”
“Alright.”Henodsbriskly,acceptingthechallenge.“You’reon.Fortherestofthenight,wedotheoppositeofwhateverourinstinctstellus.”
“Yousureaboutthis?”Ileanin,elbowsonthetable.“Idon’twanttohearaboutyoubailingontheidea…”
“I’mserious.”He’sgotthatlook.Amanpossessedwithaconsumingnotion.Itremindsmeofanotherthingthat’salwaysattractedmetoEvan.He’sshamelesslypassionate.Evenaboutthestupidestthings.It’sendearing.“Prepareyourselfforaneveningofwell-manneredcivility,GenevieveWest.”
Isputteroutalaugh.“Holdontoyourknickers.”
“Whatdoyouthink?”EvancrouchesontheworngreenturfbesidetheimitationPolynesiantotem.Helayshisputterontheground,aimingtheheadoftheclubatthewoodencratelabeleddynamite.“Taketheleftroutearoundthepileofgolddoubloons,yeah?”
Bendingoverbesidehim,Ialignmyviewwithhis.“Ithinkthatpatchofoldbubblegumstuckattheentranceofthemouseholeisgoingtogiveyoutrouble.Theleftforkovertherampisatrickiershot,butonceyou’rethere,it’sacleanerdescenttothehole.”
“Let’sgoalready.”Behindus,ashaggy-headedkidgrowstesty.Hisfriendsighswithloudimpatience.“I’dliketogetthroughthisgamewhilemyclothesstillfit.”
Evanignoreshim.Stillevaluatinghisshot,pickingleavesandbitsofdebrisfromaroundhisgolfball.“I’mgoingleft.Idon’tlikethelookofthatturtleontheright.”Hegetstohisfeet,adjustshisstance.Hetakesapracticeswingandthenanother.
“Comeon!”
Theclubsmackstheball,launchingittowardthehighembankment,upandaroundthespilledpileofgolddoubloons,whereitsailsstraightintotherushingstreamanddownawaterfall.Withaplop,itlandsinthepoolbelow,filledwithcoloredgolfballslikeahundredpaintedclams.
“Afterallthat!”thefriendheckles,whileShaggyHeadguffawsloudly.
“Hey.”Iroundonthem,pointingmyclub.“Getfucked,shit-heads.”
“Whoa.”Theboysretreatastepwithmockingexpressions.“Ma’am,thisisafamilyestablishment.”
I’vegotamindtodanglethemoverthewaterfeature,becausethesedudeshavebeengettingonmynervessincethesecondhole,butEvanthrowshisarmaroundmyshouldertoholdmeback.
“Bestbehavior,”hewhispersatmyear.“Remember?”
Right.Niceyoungladiesdon’tdrownlittlepunkteenagersatthemini-golfcourse.“I’mcool.”
“Getahandleonyourchick,bro,”Shaggysays.
Hisfriendmakesatauntingface.“She’scrazy.”
ThatsnapsEvan’sspinestraight.Eyesglittering,hestridesup,hisfisttightaroundhisclub.Hebacksthekidsupintothebushesastheystumbletoescapehim,expectingabeating.
Instead,Evangrabsagolfballfromthefriend’shandandstalksbacktome.
“Hey!”thekidcomplains.
“Consideritanassholetax,”Evanbarksoverhisshoulder.Hemakesagrandshowofsweepinghisshoeoverthegroundtocleartheteeformyturn.“Mylady.”
Ifightasmile.“Sochivalrous.”
Then,knowingbetter,Ihitmyshotthroughthemousehole,whereittravelsthroughanunseenundergroundpassageandspitsoutfromacanon,ratherthantheapparentturtle’smouthexit,andstraightintothehole.Tooeasy.
LookingbackatEvan,Iseehimtwisthislips,cockinghishead.“Cold-blooded,Fred.”
Atthenexthole,weplacealittlewageronthegamewiththekidsbehindusafterEvandecidestoplayniceandmakefriends.Thematchupiscloserthanhe’dlike,infact,butmyhothandkeepsusupovertheboys.Intheend,Evanmanagesaclutchhole-in-onetopushusoverthetop.
“Thatwasdecentofyou.”Intheparkinglotbesidehismotorcycle,Icrackopenabottleofwater.Theafternooniswaningintoevening,butthesunisstillfuriouslyinsistent.“Givingtheboystheirmoneyback.”
Leaningagainsthisbike,Evanshrugsoneshoulder.“LastthingIneedissomeiratemomhuntingmedownforhustlingherkid,right?”
“IfIdidn’tknowbetter,I’dalmostthinkyouhadagoodtime.Despitethelackofpolicechasingus.”
Hestraightens,closingthesmallspacebetweenus.Hisproximitymakesitdifficulttorememberwhywearen’tgettinguptomoretactileactivities.Iwanttokisshim.Feelhishandsonme.Straddlehimoverhisbikeuntilsecuritychasesusaway.
“WhenareyougoingtoacceptthatI’dbehappywatchingpaintdrywithyou?”Hisvoiceislow,earnest.
“Challengeaccepted.”
Weendupatoneofthosepaint-your-own-potteryplaces.Italsohappenstobeoverrunwithalittlegirl’sbirthdayparty.Adozeneight-year-oldsrunaroundwhileahaggardshopgirlstrugglestokeepceramichorsesandknockoffDisneyfiguresontheshelvesbeforetheytoppleintomoundsofdustandsharpedges.
Atthebackofthestore,EvanandIpickourtableanddecideonourcanvases.
“Ijustrememberedwe’vebeenherebefore,”Iinformhim,pullinganowloffashelf.Asimilaronesitsinmybedroomathome.
Evanstudiesagiraffe.“Areyousure?”
“Yeah,welefthomecomingearlyfreshmanyearandwanderedinbecauseyouweretrippingballsandsawadragoninthewindowdisplay,soyouwouldn’tletusgountilyoupaintedapurpledragon.”
“Oh,shit,”hesays,backingawayfromtheanimals.“Yeah.Istartedfreakingoutbecausethedragonturnedevil,anditwasgoingtoburndownthewholetown.”
Ichuckleattheridiculousmemory.Turnedouthe’dpre-partiedalittlewithoutmeandconsumedsomepotbrowniesbeforethedance.
Asuddenshriekripsthroughtheroom.Thebirthdaygirlinhercrownandpinkfeatherboaisredinthefaceandgesticulatingwildly,hermotherwide-eyedandhorrifiedasthegirl’sfriendscowerintheirseats.Atantrumpoisedtobubbleover.
“Iwantthecastle!”Thegirlfumes.
“Youcanhavethecastle,sweetie.”Themomplacesaclearlysubstandardroyaldwellinginfrontofherpetulantoffspringwiththedeliberatemotionsandsweatybrowofabombtech.
“Notthatone!”Thegirlgrabsforanotherchild’sfarsuperiorcastle,whichtheothergirlclutches,defiant.“It’smyparty!Iwantthatone!”
“IfIeverhaveakidlikethat,”ItellEvan,“I’mleavingitinthewoodswithasleepingbagandsomegranolabars.”
“Remindmenottoleaveyoualonewithourkids.”
Castingagrinoverhisshoulder,Evanpicksaseahorseofftheshelfandstridesovertotheparty.Hegivesthemomareassuringnodthenkneelsinfrontoftheangrybirthdaygirltoaskifshe’ddohimthehonorofanoriginalartworkbypaintingtheanimalforhim.Herbloodshoteyesandferalsnarlreturntoamostlyhumanexpression.She’sevensmiling.
Evansitswithher,talkingandgenerallymaintainingherattention,allowingthemothertotakeadeepbreathandtheothergirlstogoabouttheirprojectswithoutfearofreprisal.
Ahalfhourorsolater,herejoinsmeatourtable,nowtheproudownerofthepinkfeatherboa.Whichisoddlyfetchingonhim,forsomereason.
“You’resomekindofbratwhisperer,”Isayashetakesaseatbesideme
“Howdoyouthinkwe’vebeenfriendsforsolong?”
ForthatIsmearbluepaintacrosshischeek.“Careful.Icandoworsethanthrowpottery.”
Heflashesacrookedsmile.“Don’tIknowit.”
I’dhaveneverthoughthimcapableofwadingintosuchtreacherousterritoryandemergingunscathed.Triumphant,even.Paternal.Itdoessomethingtomeonaprimalbrain-chemistrylevelthatI’mnotentirelyreadytounpack.
Whenthisdatestarted,Iwasn’tconvincedwe’dknowhowtobearoundeachotherifweweren’tdrunk,naked,orsomevariationapproachingoneortheother.Now,we’vebeenatthisafewhours,andIcan’tsayImissit.Well,Ido,butnotsomuchthatIcan’tfindenjoymentinthemundaneactivitiesofdating.Turnsoutthere’ssomethingtobesaidfornormal.
Leavingawhilelaterwithmynewceramicfish,westrolltheboardwalk,neitherofusreadytogohomebutunderstandingthedeadlinefastapproaching.Becauseoncethesunsets,badideascome.We’recreaturesofhabit,afterall.
“Younevertoldme,”hesays,reachingtoholdmyhand.Yetanothersurpriseinthiseveningoffirsts.Notthathe’sneverheldmyhandbefore,butthisfeelsdifferent.It’snotintentionalorleading,butnatural.Absent-minded.Likeit’stheonlyplaceourhandsbelong.“How’dyourinterviewgowithMac?”
“Youtellme.Didshesayanything?”
“Shethinksyou’regreat.I’mmoreconcernedhowyoufeel.Ifyougetthejob,youtwowillbespendingalotoftimetogether.ThatmeansCooptoo.Thatmeansme.”
Thethoughthasn’tescapedme.Macseemscool.Itwasonlyonemeeting,butwegotalongwellenough.Cooper,ontheotherhand,mightbetrickier.Lasttimewespoke,hewasallbuttryingtorunmeoutoftown.Burrowingdeeperintohisinnercircleislikelynotgoingtoimprovethatrift.Butthat’snotwhatEvan’sasking,notreally.Webothknowthat.
“IfIgetthejob,”Isaywithapoketohischest,“thatdoesn’tmeananythingaboutyouandmeonewayoranother.”
Withthatcockygrin,hedoesn’tbreakstride.“Youkeeptellingyourselfthat.”
Ourpathisinterruptedbyagroupofoldfolkswalkingoutoftheice-creamparlor.AcoupleladieswaveatEvanwithdisturbinglylewdintent.Meanwhile,atall,ganglymanwhosesaggingearsareracinghisdroopingjowlstohisshoulderszeroesinonEvan.
“You,”hesaysinahoarsegrumble.“Irememberyou.”
Evantugsmyhand.“Webettergo.”
“Lloyd,comeonnow.”Amaninapoloandnametagtriestocoaxtheunrulyseniors.“It’stimetogo.”
“I’mnotgoinganywhere.”Theman’scupofvanillasoftservesplatterstotheground.“That’sthesonofabitchwhokilledmybird.”
Um,what?
Evandoesn’tgivemeevenasecondtodigestthat.Astheelderlymanlauncheshimselfatus,Evanyanksmyarmandrocketsusforward.
“Run!”heorders.
I’mstrugglingtokeepmybalanceasEvandragsmebehindhim,hurtlingdowntheboardwalk.IturntowardthewheezingexclamationsatourbackstoseeLloydbarrelingafterus.Unusuallyspryforamanhisage,he’satadeadsprint,dodgingfoodcartsandtourists.He’sgotthedevilinhiseyes.
“Thisway,”Evansays,pullingmetotheleft.
Wecutdownanalleybetweenacoupleofbarsthatleadsbehindtheboardwalkcarnivalthatissetupthroughmuchofthesummer.Wedartbetweenacoupleofmidwaygamesandthroughabackdoor,wherewe’repromptlybombardedbyasoundtrackofsomethingIcanonlydescribeastrancemusicoverlaidonnurseryrhymemelodieswiththedisconcertinglaughterofclowns.It’spitch-black,saveforanoccasionalstrobelightthatrevealsamazeofhangingpaintedmannequins.
“IalwaysknewthisiswhatI’dseebeforeIdied,”Isayinresignation
Evannodssolemnly.“Therearedefinitelydeadkidswalledupinheresomewhere.”
Catchingmybreath,Irunahandthroughmydisheveledhair.“So.Youkilledaman’sbird?”
“No,Cooper’sSatandogkilledthebird.Istrenuouslyobjecttoanyguiltbyassociation.”
“Uh-huh.Andthishappenedhow?”
Beforehecananswer,ashardofdaylightenterstheroomfromsomewhereunseen.Webothcrouch,huggingthewalltoavoidgettingcaught.
“Who’sinhere?”avoiceshoutsfromtheothersideoftheroom.“Weain’topenyet.”
Evanputshisfingeroverhislips.
“Yougetouthere,youhearme?”Theangryman’sdemandisfollowedbyaloud,startlingcrackofnoise.Likeabathittingawallorsomething.“IfIgottahuntyoudown,I’mgonnaturnyourinsidesout.”
“OhmyGod,”Iwhisper.“Wehavetogetthehelloutofhere.”
Wefeelaroundforthedoorwecamethrough,butit’sstilldarkanddisorienting,themusicandhauntinglaughter,andthestrobelightsmakethewholeroomappeartostutter.Practicallycrawling,wecreepoffinanotherdirectionuntilwefindasmallalcove.Westopthere,listeningtoourpursuer’sheavyfootfalls.
Confined,hunted,notmakingasound,Evanpressesusintotheshadowsofthetightcorner.Withhishandsonmyhipsandhisbodywarmagainstmine,Ialmostdon’thearthenightmaresoundtrackanymore.Justthesoundofmyownbreathinginmyears.Mymindtripsoverrandomthoughtsandsensations.Thescentofhisshampooandmotorcycleexhaust.Hisskin.Memoriesofitonmytongue.Hisfingers.
“Don’tdothat,”heraspsinmyear.
“What?”
“Remember.”
It’dbesoeasytograbhandfulsofhishairandpullhislipstomine.LethimhavemeinthisfunhouseofhorrorswhilewebracetobehackedupbyCrazyWillyoutthere.
“Wesaidwewouldn’t,”Evanremindsme,readingmymindbecausewe’veneverneededwordstospeaktoeachother.“I’mtryingtobeagoodboy,Fred.”
Ilickmydrylips.“Justoutofcuriosity,whatwouldBadBoyEvando?”Iask,becauseapparentlyI’mintoself-torture.
Helickshislipstoo.“Youreallywantmetoanswerthat?”
No.
Yes.
“Yes,”Itellhim.
Evan’spalmslightlycaressmyhips,sendingashiverupmyspine.“BadBoyEvanwouldtakehishandandslideitunderyourskirt.”
Topunctuatethat,onebigpalmtravelssouthtocapturethehemofmypale-greenskirtbetweenhisfingertips.Hedoesn’tpullitup,though.Justplayswiththefilmyfabric,whileaslightsmileliftsthecornersofhismouth.
“Yeah?”Myvoiceishoarse.“Andwhywouldhedothat?”
“Becausehe’dwanttofindouthowhotyouwereforhim.Howwet.”Hebunchesthefabricbetweenhisfingers,givingateasingtug.“Andthen,whenhefelthowbadyouwantedit,he’dputhisfingersinsideyou.Wouldn’tevenneedtotakeyourpantiesoff,becauseBadGirlGendoesn’twear’em.”
Ialmostmoanoutloud.
“Then,afterhemadeyoucome,he’dspinyouaround.Tellyoutoputyourpalmsflatagainstthewall.”Evanbringshislipsclosetomyear,elicitinganothershiver,aflurryofthemthistime.“Andhe’dfuckyoufrombehinduntilwebothforgotournames.”
Stillsmiling,hereleasesmyskirt,whichfluttersdowntomyknees.Thatteasinghandglidesbacknorth,thistimetocupmychin.
Istareupathim,unabletobreathe.CrazyWilly’sfootstepshavedissipated.Andtheclownmusichasallbutrecededintothebackgroundofmybrain.AllIhearnowisthepoundingofmyheart.MygazeisstuckonEvan’slips.Theneedtokisshimispowerfulenoughtomakemykneeswobble.
FeelinghowunsteadyIam,heletsoutahuskylaugh.“Butwe’renotgoingtodoanyofthat,arewe?”
Despitemybodyscreamingplease,please,pleaseatme,Iexhaleaslowbreathandmanageanod.“No,”Iagree.“We’renotgoingtodothat.”
Instead,wecheckthatthecoastisclearandthendoublebackthewaywecameuntilwefindthebrokenexitsignabovethedoor.Weemergeunscathed,butIcan’tsaythesameformylibido.Mybodyisthrobbingwithneedthatbordersonpain.NotputtingmyhandsalloverEvanismuch,muchharderthanIthoughtitwouldbe.
IhonestlyhavenoideahowlongI’llbeabletoresist.CHAPTER23
EVAN
Comesunrise,I’monRiley’sporchwithmyphonetomyear.It’sthefourthtimeintenminutesit’sgonetovoicemail.Itoldthekid,whenIsayearly,Imeanit.SoIjumpdownthestepsandroundthesideofthetiny,pale-blueclapboardhousetohisbedroomwindow.Iknockontheglassuntilthegroggyteenpushestheblindsasidetorubhiseyesatme.
Iflashagrin.“Shakealeg,sunshine.”
“Timeisit?”Hisvoiceismuffledbehindthewindow.
“Hurry-uptime.Let’sgo.”
WhenRileyhadaskedmetotakehimsurfing,I’dwarnedhimthatweweren’tgoingtomessaroundwithcrowdedafternoonbeaches.Ifhewantedtogetonthewater,he’dhavetopaddleoutwiththebigboys.Thatmeanshittingthewavesbeforebreakfast.
IhopinCooper’struckoutfronttowaitforthekid.Afewminuteslater,I’mthinkingaboutclimbingthroughhiswindowtodraghimoutwhenhisauntknocksonthepassengerwindow.
“Morning,”Igreether,turningofftheradio.“Ididn’twakeyou,didI?I’msupposedtotakeRileysurfing.”
Wearingazipperedhoodieoverapairofscrubs,Lizglancesatmysurfboardinthebedofthetruck.“Right,hementioneditlastnight.Youdidn’twakeme,though.I’vegotanearlyshift.Heshouldbeoutinaminute.”Sheholdsupalargetraywrappedintinfoil.“Thisisforyou.Sinceweneverhadthatdinner.”
“Sorryaboutthat.”Islideacrossthebenchseattotakethetrayfromherandliftupthefoil.Thehomemadepieinsidesmellsterrific.“I’vebeenslammedatwork.”
“Hopeyou’renotallergictocherry.”
Ibreakoffapieceofpiecrusttopopinmymouth.Ohfuck,thatisdelicious.“WhatifIam?”
Shegrins.“Eatsmallbites.”
“Ready!”Rileycomesjoggingoutofthehousewiththescreendoorsnappingshutbehindhim.He’slugginghisboardunderhisarm,withabackpackslungoverhisshoulder.
“Remember,youneedtogetsomelaundrydonewhileI’matwork.”LizmovestoletRileyjumpinthetruckasIslidebacktothedriver’sside.“Andtakingsomebleachtothatbathtubwouldn’thurt.”
“Yep,okay.”Hepokeshisheadoutthewindowtogiveherakissonthecheek.“Callyoulater.”
Smiling,Lizpointsafingeratme.“Don’tdrownmynephew.”
Ismileback.“I’lldomybest.”
TurnsoutRileyisn’thalfbadonaboard.He’sgotgoodbalanceandafeelfortherhythmofthewaterbutisjustalittleroughontechnique.Unfortunately,thewavestodayaren’tmuchworththeeffort.Wesitonourboardsoutbeyondthebreakers,bobbingontheswells.Evenwhenthesurfingisn’tgreat,I’dstillratherbeoutherethanalmostanywhereelse.
“How’dyougetbetter?”Rileyasksaswewatchtheoccasionalintrepidriderattempttopaddleafteraminorwave.
Thesunatourbackslowlyclimbsthesky,castinglongorangestreaksacrossthewater.Aboutadozenothersurfersfloatnearby,spreadout,watchingtheundulatingtideandhopingforsomethingtocrest.
“Ijustwatchedwhattheotherguysdidandtriedtomimicthem.Butotherthanbeingonthewaterandgettingtossedalot,thethingthathelpedmethemostwaslearningtocontroltheboardandmybody.”
“Likehow?”
“Well,Iswipedapieceofscrapmetalpipefromaconstructionsiteandputatwo-by-fouroverit.Sortoflikeaskateboard,youknow?AndI’dspendhoursbalancingonit.Learninghowtoshiftmyweighttomovearound.Itreallyhelpedengagethosemusclesandtrainmybody.”
“Sostepone:theft.Gotit.”
Igrinathim.“See,thisishowyougetmeintrouble.”
Onezealouschickturnsherboardtoshoreanddrivesherarmsthroughthewater,paddlingintopositionforwhatamountstoagentleshoveofawave.Someassholesmockinglywhistleafterher
“Noworries,”Rileysays.“YouwonLizoveralongtimeago.Ithinkshe’smaybegotalittlethingforyou.”
I’dbeengettingthatvibetoo.TheguyatBigBrothershadevenwarnedthatsortofthingwasn’tunheardof,butundernocircumstancesshouldIentertaintheidea—ifIwasseriousabouthelpingmyLittle.Whichisn’ttosayLizdoesn’thaveattractivequalities.
“Kindofgotmyhandsfull,”Itellhim.
Heeyesmeknowingly.“Thatgirlfromtheboardwalktheotherday?”
“Genevieve.Wegowayback.”
Evensayinghernamegetsmyheartbeatingfasterandfillsmewithanticipation.Ithinkaboutherevenalittle,andIbecomeimpatientforthenexttimeIcanseeher.I’dspentayearfightingalosingbattleagainstthis,drivingmyselfcrazy.Nowshe’shere,nevermorethanafewminutesaway,andIstillbarelyseeherforsomereasonthatI’veyettounderstand.
“Doyouliketheguysyourauntdates?”IaskRiley.
Heshrugs.“Sometimes.Really,shedoesn’tgetoutmuchbecausesheworksallthetime.”
“What’shertype?”
“Idon’tknow.”Heshakeshishead,laughingatme.“Boringdudes,Iguess.Whenshe’soffwork,shejustwantstoordertakeoutandwatchmovies.Relax,youknow?Idon’tthinkshe’dtolerateanyonewithtoomuchenergy,evenifshethinksitseemslikeagoodideaatfirst.Ijustwanthertohavesomeonenice.”
IfIwasn’tsureit’dsetGenoff,ImighttryandpointLizandthatHarrisonguyateachother.Inanotherlife,maybe.
“Ithinkweoughttodosomethingniceforyouraunt,”Idecide,forcingmybraintoachangeoftopic.“Takeherouttodinnerorsomething.”RegardlessoftheskewedNightingalesyndromeemerginghere,she’saniceladywhodoesherbestwithlimitedresources.Sheshouldgetsomethanksforthat.
“Yeah,she’dlikethat.”
“She’sgoodpeople.”Tomostkids,momsareagiven.Theyjustassumetheirmomswillloveandtakecareofthem.Nurturethem.Band-Aidsandschoollunchesandallthat.Someofusknowbetter.“Don’tevertakeherforgranted.”
“Youhearfromyourmomlately?”
I’vetalkedtohimaboutShelleybefore,butthequestionstillhitsmesideways.Thinkingaboutherputsmeinaconstantstateofwhiplash.Shesureisn’tbakinganycherrypies.
“Shekeepstexting,wantingtogettogetherandreconnect.Makeamends,orwhatever.ItoldherI’dthinkaboutit,buteverytimeshesuggestsatimeandplacetomeet,Imakeupsomeexcuse.”
“Whatareyougoingtodo?Doyouwanttoseeher?”
Ishrug,scoopingahandfulofwatertodousemyhair.Eventhoughit’snotoverourheadsyet,thesunisalreadyatbakingtemperature.“Idon’tknowhowmanytimesIcanlethermakemethesuckerbeforeIhaven’tgotanydignityleft.”
Rileydragshishandsthroughthewater,aimless.“Iknowit’snotexactlythesamesituationwithus.Minegotsick.Shedidn’tleave.ButI’dgiveanythingtoseeheragain,totalktoher.”
Hisheart’sintherightplace,butIwishhehadn’tsaidthat.“Yeah,it’sreallynotthesame.”Becausemissinghismotherdoesn’tmakehimfeellikeanidiot.
Heplacesbothhandsonhisboardandgivesmeaseriouslook.“IguesswhatI’msayingis,ifyourmomdiedtomorrow,wouldyouregretnotspeakingtoheronemoretime?”
Riley’swordsburrowintomybrainlikeawormeatingthroughanapple.Thequestionfestersforhours,days.Untilfinally,aweeklater,I’msittinginadinerinCharleston,placingbetsagainstmyselfafterfifteenminuteswhetherShelleyisgoingtostandmeup.Thepityingeyesofmyserveraren’tgivingmegreatoddsassherefillsmycoffeemug.
“Youwantanythingtoeat?”asksthewaitress,amiddle-agedwomanwithovergrownrootsandtoomanybracelets.
“No,thanks.”
“Thepiecameinfreshthismorning.”
Enoughwiththedamnpies.“Nope.I’mgood.”
Thirtyminutes.ThisiswhyIdidn’ttellanyone,leastofallCooper.Hewould’vetoldmethiswouldhappen.Afterhekickedmyassandtookmykeystosparemeonemorehumiliation.
IhavenoideawhenIbecamethetrustingone.Thedupe.
I’mabouttothrowafewbucksonthetablejustasShelleydropsintotheboothandsettlesacrossthetablefromme.Blowninlikeagustofwind.
“Oh,baby,I’msorry.”Shepullsherpurseoffhershoulderandpicksupalaminatedmenutofantheheat-and-asphaltsmelloutofherdyedblondehair.Herenergyishecticandfrazzled,alwaysinmotion.“Oneofthegirlswaslatecomingbackfromlunchbecauseshehadtopickherkidup,andIcouldn’tleaveonmybreakuntilshegotback.”
“You’relate.”
Shestills.Pressesherlipstogetherwithacontritetiltofherhead.“I’msorry.ButI’mherenow.”
Now.Thisimpermanentstatebetweenwasn’tandwon’tbe.
“What’llyouhave?”Thewaitressisback,thistimewithanaccusatorycurtnesstohertone.Thiswoman’sgrowingonme.
“Coffee,please,”Shelleytellsher.
Thewomanwalksoffwithagrimace.
“I’mgladyoucalledmeback,”Shelleytellsmeasshekeepsfanningherselfwiththemenu.I’veneverbeenabletoputmyfingeronitbefore,butIjustfigureditout.Herfreneticnaturegivesmeanxiety.Alwayshas.Theperpetualmotionissochaotic.Likebeesinaglassbox.“I’vemissedyou.”
Ipursemylipsforasecond.ThenIletoutatiredbreath.
“Yeah,youknowwhat,beforewegoanothertenroundsonthis,letmesay:You’reabadmom,Shelley.Andit’sprettyshadyhowyou’repittingCooperandIagainsteachother.”Sheopenshermouthtoobject.Istopherwithalook.“No,that’sexactlywhatyou’redoing.YoucametomewithallyourpleasandapologiesbecauseyouknowCooperwon’thearit.YoutakeadvantageofthefactthatI’mthesoftone,butyoudon’tcarewhatthatdoestoyoursons.IfheknewIwashere—Idon’tknow,hemightchangethelocksonme.I’mnotkidding.”
“Thatisn’twhatIwant.”Anypretenseofasunnydispositionfadesfromherface.“Brothersshouldn’tfight.”
“No,theyshouldn’t.Andyoushouldn’tbeputtingmeinthisposition.Andyouknowwhatelse?Wouldithavekilledyoutobakeapieeverynowandthen?”
Sheblinks.“Huh?”
“I’mjustsaying,”Imutter.“Othermomsbakepiesfortheirkids.”
She’squietforawhileafterthewaitressbringshercoffee.Staringatthetableandfoldinghernapkinintosmallerandsmallershapes.Shelooksdifferent,Ican’thelpbutacknowledge.Hereyesareclear.Skinishealthy.Gettingsoberisahellofadrug.
Leaningforwardonherelbows,shebeginsinasubduedvoice.“IknowI’vebeenawfultoyouboys.Trustme,kid,Iknowwhatrockbottomisnow.Gettingthrowninjailbymyownsonwaskindofaneye-opener.”
“Stealingfromyourownson,”Ipointedlyremindher.“Anyway,hedroppedthecharges,whichwasprobablymorethanyoudeserved.”
“I’mnotarguingwithyou.”Shedropsherhead,watchingherfingerspickatthepeelingnailpolishonherthumb.“Sittinginthatcellknowingthatmyownkidhadmelockedup,though…Yeah,thatwasawake-upcall.”Hesitant,sheliftshergazetosearchmine,probablyforsomehintthathercontritionislanding.“I’mtryinghere,baby.Thisismynewleaf.Igotajobnow.Myownplace.”
“Thattree’slookingalittlebarefromwhereI’msitting,Mom.”
“You’reright.We’vebeenherebefore.”
Shesmiles,allheartsickandhopeful.It’ssadandpathetic,andIhateseeingmyownmothersobeaten.Idon’tenjoykickingherwhileshe’sdown.Butwhatelseistherewhenshe’sbeendownsolong,andshe’sgotbothhandsaroundmyankle?
“Ipromise,Evan.I’mreadytobebetter.Igotmyshittogether.Nomoreofthatoldstuff.IjustwanttohavearelationshipwithmysonsbeforeIdie.”
Ihatethat.Itisn’tfair,playingthedeathcardonacoupleorphanswho’vealreadyburiedoneparentinthegroundandanotherinourminds.Still,somethingstrikesachordwithme.Maybebecausethetwoofushavefoundourselvesonentirelydifferentyetsimilarjourneysofself-improvement.MaybeI’masapwhowillneverstopwantinghismothertolovehimandactlikeshedoes.Eitherway,Ican’thelpfeelingshe’ssincerethistime.
“Here’showitis,”Isayslowly.“I’mnotsayingno.”
Hereyes,darkanddauntinglikemine,lightwithrelief.
“I’mnotsayingyes,either.You’regonnahavetodomorethanmakepromisesifyouwanttobepartofmylife.Thatmeanskeepingasteadyjobandyourownplace.Stickingaroundtownforasolidyear.NorunningofftoAtlanticCityorBatonRougeorwhereverelse.AndIthinkweshoulddoamonthlydinner.”Idon’tevenknowwhyIsaythat.Itjustspillsoutofme.ThenIrealizeIdon’thatetheidea.
Shenods,tooeager.Itmakesmenervous.“Icandothat.”
“Idon’twantyoucomingtomeformoney.Youdon’tdropbythehousetosleeponeoff.Matteroffact,youdon’tcomebyatall.IfCooperseesyou,Ican’tbesurehewon’tthinkofareasontohaveyouarrestedagain.”
Shereachesformyhandandsqueezes.“You’llsee,baby.I’mbetternow.Ihaven’tevenhadadrinksinceyouagreedtomeetme.”
“That’sgreat,Mom.Letmetellyousomething,though,thatI’vestartedtofigureoutmyself:Ifthechangeisgoingtostick,youhavetowantitto.Thatmeansdoingitforyourself,notonlybecauseyou’retryingtoimpresssomeoneelse.Change,ordon’t.Eitherway,you’retheonewho’sgottolivewiththeresult.”CHAPTER24
GENEVIEVE
TherearefewthingsIloveaboutthistownmorethanabonfireonthebeach.Coolsandandwarmflames.Thescentofburningpineandsaltair.Thecoastalbreezethatcarriestinyorangeembersintothewaves.Thesethingsfeellikehome.Andnoonedoesitbetterthanthetwins.SummernightsattheHartleyhouseareatraditionintheBay—likeboardwalkcarnivalsandhustlingGarnetfreshmen.
ThepartyiswellunderwaywhenIarrive.HeidiandJayareattachedattheface.Alana’sdancingintheflickeringfirelightwithsomeroughneckdeckhand,whileTatewatchesfromthedistancewithhisfistaroundabeerbottlelikehe’sthinkingaboutcrackingitovertheguy’shead.Mackenzie,who’ssittingbesidethefirewithSteph,waveswhenshespotsmecomingdownfromthehouse.
Justafewhoursago,shecalledtotellmeIgotthejob.I’mofficiallythenewgeneralmanagerofTheBeaconHotel,whichisalittleterrifyingbutalotexciting.IwarnedMacthatalthoughIworkhardandlearnquickly,Idon’tpretendtoknowanythingaboutrunningahotel,andsheremindedmethatuntilafewmonthsago,shedidn’tknowanythingaboutowningone.Besides,I’veneverstoppedtowonderifthelandingmighthurtbeforejumpingoffapieroroutofaplane.Whystartnow?
SowhileI’mnotsureCooperwouldappreciateseeingmehere,IacceptedMac’sinvitationtotheparty.Mynewpositiondoesn’tstartuntiltheendofthesummer,butstill.Youdon’tturndowntheboss.Ormaybethat’sanexcuse.MaybetherealreasonIcametonightisbecauseafterIhungupthephonewithMac,therewasonlyonepersonIcouldn’twaittotell.Ratherthanlingertoolongontheimplicationofthatinstinct,Ijustgotmyselfinthecaranddroveoverhere.
Evanfindsmeacrosstheflamesthroughthemanyshadowedfaces.Henodsformetocomemeethimbythefoldingtableandcoolers,wherethey’vepracticallygotawholeliquorstorestashed.
“Tellmesomething,”hesayswhenIapproach.“Yougetperks,right?Maybeswingapresidentialsuitewithsomeroomservice?Youandmespendaweekendnaked,eatingchocolate-coveredstrawberriesinahottub?”
“IseeMacalreadytoldyou.”
“Yep.Congratulations,MadamGM.”Withanelaboratehandmotion,EvanpresentsmewitharedBlowPop.
Thisassholeisdamnsweetsometimes.Ihatethathedoesn’thavetotryatallinordertoturnmyguttogiddymush.Thatmynervesneverdulltohisdark,mischievouseyesandcrookedsmirk.HethrowsonanyoldT-shirtandapairofjeanssplatteredwithinteriorpaintandplaster,andIgetpositivelyslutty.
“Nowitfeelsreal,”Isaywithalaugh.“Thismakesallthefrettingworthit.”
MybrotherBillywanderspastus,throwingmetheside-eyewhenhenoticeshowcloseEvanandIarestanding.Igiveanodofassurance,makingitclearit’sallgoodhere,andhekeepswalking.
“Letmefixyouadrink.I’vebeenworkingonsomethingspecial.”Evanfillsupacupoficefromthecoolerandstartsassemblingbottlesofingredients.
“Ican’t.”
Hewavesoffmyhesitation.“It’snon-alcoholic.”
WordsIneverthoughtI’dhearcomeoutofaHartley’smouth.Especiallythisone.
Iwatchashecapstheshakerandbeginsvigorouslymixingthedrink.“Honestly,Iwasdebatingnotevencomingtonight,”Iconfess.
Afrowntoucheshislips.“Becauseofme?”
“No,becauseofthis—”Igestureatthebeer-filledcoolersandtableladenwithbooze.“Onthedriveover,IwastryingtoconvincemyselfIcouldhaveadrink.Justone,youknow,totaketheedgeoff.Butthen,alltheseworst-casescenariosflashedthroughmyhead.Onedrinkturnstotwo,andsuddenlysixdrinkslater,IwakeupinafireenginehalfsubmergedintheYMCApoolwiththelightsstillflashingandallamatreadingwater.”Andonlyhalfofthatscenarioishypothetical.
Amused,hepoursthedrinkintothecupofice.“Gen.You’vegottocutyourselfsomeslack.Thiskindofhypervigilanceisn’tsustainable.Trustme.Ifyoudon’tletyourselfhavealittlefunnowandthen,you’regonnaendupburntoutoronabender.Learntoembracemoderation.”
“YougetthatoffaT-shirt?”Iaskinamusement.
“Here.”Hehandsmethefruityconcoction.“I’llbeyourchaperonetonight.Ifyoureachforarealdrink,I’llsmackitoutofyourhand.”
“Isthatright?”HemustthinkI’mnewhere.
“I’msobertonight,”Evansayswithoutahintofirony.“Iplantostaythatway.”
Ordinarily,Imightlaughinhisface.AsoberHartleyatapartyislikeafishoutofwater.Buttakingagoodlookathim,Inotethathiseyesareclearandfocused.Notawhiffofboozeonhisbreath.Hell,he’sserious.IfIdidn’tknowhim,Imightstartbelievinghewassincereaboutbeingreformed.
Iguessthere’sonlyonewaytofindout.
“Okay,”Isay,acceptingthedrink.“ButifIwakeuponastolenJetSkiinthemiddleoftheocean,surroundedbyCoastGuardcutters,youandmearegonnafight.”
“Cheerstothat.”Hehoistsabottleofwatertoclinkwithmyplasticcup.
TurnsoutEvancanmixadecentvirgincocktail.
“Notfornothing,”hesayshesitantly.“Youknowthis‘goodgirl’missiondoesn’thavetoentirelychangewhoyouare,right?”
“Whatdoesthatmean?”I’msomewhattakenaback.NotbecauseEvanmightbelessthanenthusiasticaboutthisnewlifestyle,butthatthere’ssomegenuinedistressinhisvoiceIhaven’theardbefore.
“Ijustthinkit’dbeashameifyouletgrowingupdullyouredges.I’mallforwhatevermakesyouhappy,”hequalifies.“Youdon’tneedtobedrinkingformetoenjoyyourcompany—you’vealwaysbeenfunnomatterwhat.Lately,though,itseemsliketherealGenisslippingaway.Becomingamutedversionoftheincredible,terrifying,vibrantwomanyouusedtobe.”
“YousaythatlikeI’mdying.”Iwon’tlie—ithurtsalittletohearthatfromhim.Thedisappointment,thechordofloss.It’slikeattendingmyownfuneral.
Hiseyesdrop,fingersrunningovertheridgesofthebottleinhishand.“Inasense,maybeitfeelsthatway.AllI’msaying…”Heliftshisattentionagaintome.Abrief,wistfulsmileisquicklychasedoffbyhistypicalirreverentgrin.“Don’tgogettingsoftonme,Fred.”
I’vealwayslovedmyselfbestinEvan’seyes.Theadoringwayhelooksatme:partimpressed,alittleintimidated.Butmoreso,thepersonhethinksIam.Thewayhetellsit,I’minvincible.Thunderandlightning.Notmuchscaresme,andevenlesswhenhe’saround
Iwashdownthethoughtwithanothergeneroussipofmyfauxcocktail.“Wouldn’tdreamofit.”
There’sgottobeawaytodoboth.Straightenoutmymoredestructivetendencieswithoutlobotomizingmyself.Somewhereintheworldarerespectable,functioningadultswho’vestavedoffblandness.
BecauseEvanisn’taloneinhisconcern.I’vefelttheslowslippingofselftoo,theimageinthemirrorbecominglessfamiliarwithtime.Everymorningwakingasoneperson.Thedayspenttearingmyselfoutandup,clawingthroughlayerslikebreakingfreeofmyownskin.AndIhitmypilloweachnightassomeoneelseentirely.Atsomepoint,IbettersettleonapersonabeforeI’mnotmeatall,butanotherdiscardedhuskonthefloor.
“Tellyouwhat,”Evansays.“Nomoreserioustalk.I’vemissedthehelloutofus.Andyoudeservetocelebrate.Sotrustmetostopyoufromfallingintooldhabits,but…”Hisvoiceroughens.“Notallhabitsarebad.Fortonight,let’sjustsaytohellwithitandhaveagoodtime.”
Inotherwords,let’spretendit’stheolddaysandwe’restilltogether.Nomorerulesandboundaries.Feelthemomentandletourinstinctsmoveus.
It’sanattractiveoffer.Andmaybehe’scaughtmeinjusttherightmoodtoaccept.
“Temping…”Itrailoff.
“Oh,comeon.”Hethrowshisarmovermyshoulderandkissesthesideofmyhead.“What’stheworstthatcouldhappen?”
“Famouslastwords.”
Evanshrugs,haulingmetowardthemusicanddancingcouples.“Thereareworsewaystogo.”
Forafewhours,weareether.Evandoesn’tdancesomuchasstandtherepeelingmyclothesoffwithhiseyes.Ilosemyhalf-emptydrinksomewhereinthebeat.I’mhighonsensation.Fabricstickingtomybodyinthehumidity.Sweatdownmyneck.Hishandsfindingbareskinacrossmystomach,myshoulders.Lipspressedagainstmyhair,mycheek,undermyjawuntiltheymeetmyown.Kissinglikeeveryoneiswatching.GrabbingfistfulsofhisshirtandhikingmykneeuphisleguntilIrememberwhereweare.
It’sthemostfunI’vehadwithmyclothesoninalongtime,andallwedoiseverythingwe’veeverdone.Laughingwithourfriendsandkickingupsand.Nothingonfirebuttheburninglogsinthepit,andtheonlyflashinglightscomingfromtheflamesandcellphonecameras.LumberjackJimmyhastrottedouthisax-throwingtarget,andeveryone’splacingbetsaswetaketurnshurlingsharpedgesattheuprightwoodenboard.Atfirstglancetheconceptofmixingmedievalweaponryandalcoholmightappearlikearecipeforanoisyridetotheemergencyroom,butsofar,egoshavetakentheworstdamagetonight
“Youshouldhaveago,”IurgeEvan.Seeingashe’sdeadsober,noone’sgothimbeatforaim.
Withhisarmaroundmywaistaswewatchanothermatchup,Evanstrokeshisthumbunderthehemofmyshirt.Theseductivetouchgetsmedizzierthananythingfromabottle.“What’llyougivemeifIwin?Andfeelfreetobeaslewdasyou’dlike.”
“Myrespectandadmiration,”Ideadpan,tohisutterdejection.
“Mmm-hmm,that’sjustasgoodasablowjob.”
WhenJimmyaskswho’sgoingnext,Evanstepsuptothelanetotakeanaxinhand.SomeonegrabsCoopertogetaloadofthis,andthemassofinterestedspectatorsswells.Theygivehimawideberth,though.BecauseEvanHartleywithanaxisaboutasclosetodeathasanyonegetswithairintheirlungs.
Untilthesharp,shrillwailofasirenspooksthecrowd.Themusiccutsoutabruptly.Firelightrevealsacoptrudgingthroughthesand.Hebarksordersintoabullhorn,sendingthoseofquestionableparolestatusscatteringintothedarkness.
“Party’sover,”heannounces.“Youhavethreeminutestoclearthepremisesorbesubjecttoarrest.”
Forasplitsecond,Iholdoutsomefainthopeit’sHarrisonhavingalaugh.Butthenthecop’sfaceisrevealedfromtheshadows.
DeputyRandall.
Ofcourse.
EvanjerkshisheadatCooper.Stillgrippingtheax,EvanstrutsuptoRandallwithhisbrother,shruggingoffmyweakattempttostophim.I’malreadyfeelingmypocketformykeysandwonderingifMacwillunderstandwhenIhavetomissafewdaysofworktoskiptownanddriveEvanovertheborder.
Asifsharingmypropheticvision,Maccomesuptotakemyarmaswefollowourmentotheconfrontation.
“What’sthedeal?”Cooperasks,doinghisbesttocontrolthedeepstreakofHartleycontemptforlawenforcementfromseepingintohisvoice.
“Everyone’sgottogo,”Randallinformstheentirecrowd.
“Thisisprivateproperty,”Evanshootsbackwithnosuchrestraint.IknowwithoutadoubtthatrightnowimagesofRandallcorneringmeinabarandtryingtofeelmeuparespinninginhismindasheholdsthesmoothwoodenaxhandleinhisfist.
“Yourpropertyendsatthegrass.Thissandhereisapublicbeach,boy.”
Evancockshishead,lickinghislips.Themadmanthrillhegetsfromtastinghisownblood.
“What’stheproblem?”CoopertakesastepforwardtoputabitmoreofhisbodybetweenEvanandRandall.“Don’ttrytotellmeyougotanoisecomplaint.Allourneighborsarerighthere.”
Withoutaflinch,Randallspitsoutaflatresponse.“Youdon’thaveapermitforthisbonfire.It’sagainstcitycode.”
“Bullshit.”Thinonpatience,Evanraiseshisvoice.“Peoplehavebonfiresallthetime.Noone’severneededanydamnpermit.”
“Thisisharassment,”Coopersays.
Lookingbored,Randallreachesintohisshirtpocket.“Mybadgenumber’sonthecard.Feelfreetofileacomplaint.”HeflicksitatCooper,wholetsitfalltothesand.“Callitanight,ortakearidewithmetothestation.”
Evanpicksupthebusinesscard.“Don’twanttobelitterbugs,dowe,deputy?”
Withthat,theparty’sover.Meanderingtowardthehouse,peoplebegintodisperse.EvanandCooperretreat,albeitreluctantly,topackupthedrinks.Witharegretfulshrug,Macgoestobreakdownthechairsandfoldingtable.Meanwhile,IhavenoideawhereIleftmypurse.I’mhuntingforit,sayinggoodbyeasfriendspassme,whenInearlybumpintoRandall,who’sblendingintothenightinhisdarksheriff’suniform.
“Thatdidn’ttakelong.”Hesneers,armscrossed,thatunearnedsenseofsuperioritybearingdownonme.
“What?”Idon’treallywantaresponse,soItrytododgehim,butRandallstepsintomypath.
“Harrisondidn’tstandachance,eh?Barelygothisfootinthedoor,andyou’realreadysteppingoutonhim.”
“Whatisthatsupposedtomean?”He’sgotmezerotofedupinnotimeflat.Idon’tlikewhathe’sinsinuating,andI’mnotabouttoentertainhisgarbageonmyhometurf.We’renotinpublic.Outhere,allsortsofthingscanhappen,andnoonewouldsayaword
“Meansyou’renotfoolinganyone,sweetheart.Leastofallme.”Randallleansin,growlingwordscoatedinthesicklystenchofgasstationcorndogsandcoffee.“You’restillalyinglittleslut.Outtoruinanotherman’slife.”
“I’msorry.”Evancomesstridingupbesideme,theaxslungwithonehandoverhisshoulder.“Ididn’tquitecatchthat.”HetiltshiseartoRandall.“You’llneedtospeakup.Saythatagain?”
“It’sfine,”Isay,grabbingEvan’sfreewrist.IfIwasworriedaboutbecomingafugitivebefore,I’mdownrightconcernednow.“Walkmetomycar?”
“Goon,boy.”Randallmoveshisrighthandtorestonhisgun.Thestrapontheholsterisunbuttoned.“Givemeareason.”
EvanflashesawildsmileI’veseenahundredtimes.Rightbeforehetookarunningleapoffaclifforunloadedapaintballgunatapolicecruiser.It’sasmileloadedwiththeserenityofmadnesssaying,watchthis
“Yeah,yousee…”Evanadmirestheax,turningitinhand.“Asarespectedbusinessownerandupstandingmemberofmycommunity,I’dneverrunafoulofalawman.”Heflickshisthumbnailacrosstheblade.
It’sthenIrealizethisconversationhasattractedanaudience.Asmallercontingentthantheabortedparty.Infact,withCooper,Wyatt,Tate,andBilly,theremnantsaremadeupalmostexclusivelyofcertifiedmembersfromtheFuckAroundandFindOutSociety.
“Butyoucomeatmeandminesideways,”Evansays,notahintofhumorinhisgravetone.“Youbettercometodance.”
Forsecondortwo,Randallappearstocontemplatetheoffer.Then,sizinguptheopposition,hethinksbetterofit.Hebarksafinalorderintothebullhorn.“Threeminutesareup.Clearout.”
Hedoesn’twaitforcompliancebeforetrudgingbackthroughthesandandtallgrasstotheroadandhiswaitingcruiser.Idon’treleasemybreathuntilIwatchthetaillightsblinkredandthendisappear.
FollowingEvanuptothehouse,I’mstillabitwindedbythewholeordeal.Somehow,he’sstillgottheax,whichhetossesonthedresserwhenweenterhisbedroomupstairs.Ihaven’tbeeninhereinayear,anditfeelsoddlylikesteppingintoamuseumofmyownlife.Memoriesoneverywall.
“What’sthatlook?”hesays,pullingoffhisshirtandtossingitinthehamper.Mythroatgoesdryasmyattentionisdrawntothelinesofhischest,thedefinedmusclesofhisabs.
“Itstillsmellsthesame.”
“Hey,Ididlaundryyesterday.”
Irollmyeyes,takingatriparoundtheroom.“Notlikethat.Imeanitsmellsfamiliar.”
“Youokay?”
“Foraminutethere…”I’mdistractedasIwanderthebedroom.He’sneverbeenthesentimentaltype.Therearenophotographstackedtothewall.Nooldconcertticketsorsouvenirs.Wasn’tmuchintosportseither,sononeofthoselittlegoldmen.“Ithoughtyoumightfindauseforthatax.Youimpressedmebackthere.”
Mygazeconductsafinalsweep.Hisroomisjustautilitariancompositeofsomebasicfurniture,TV,gamesystem,andthecontentsofhispocketsonanygivendaytossedonthenightstand.Exceptforonefrillontopofhisdresser:adecorativeglassdish,likesomethinganoldladywouldputpotpourriin,filledwithyears’worthofBlowPops
Thisjerkissodamnsweetsometimes
“Whichpartimpressedyou?”heasks.
Iturntofindhimleaningagainsthisbedroomdoor.Legscrossed,handsshovedinhispockets.Jeansridinglowonhiships.Everythingabouthimdemandstobeconsumed.AndI’mlockedinherewithhim.
“Iadmiredyourrestraint.”Idon’tknowwhattodowithmyhandsnow,soIrestthemontheedgeofhisdesk,hopup,andsitonthem.
“Icouldn’trememberifwewerestillplayingtheoppositegame.ButI’llgohunthisassdownifwe’renot.”
“No,youdidgood.”
Heraisesaneyebrow.“Howgood?”
“Areyouleaningagainstthatdoorbecauseyou’reafraidI’llleave?”
“Doyouwantto?”
WhenEvanlooksatmefrombeneaththosethick,darklashes,allfullofmemoriesandhunger,IforgetwhatI’mdoing.Alltherulesandhesitationsflyoutthewindow.
“No,”Iadmit.
Hepushesoffthedoorandstalkstowardme,plantinghishandsonthedeskoneithersideofme.Reflexively,Iopenmylegsforhimtostandbetweenthem.Ifixateonhismouth.Onthewarmthradiatingfromhisbodyandthewaymylimbsgrowrestless.WhenIthinkhe’sgoingtokissme,heturnshisfacetobrushhislipsagainstmytempleinstead.
“I’vemissedyou,”hesays,moreagroanthanwords.
“I’mrighthere.”
Mypulsethrobsinmyneck,inmypalms,thephantomechoofmythumpingheartresonatingacrosseverynerveending.I’mallbutchokingontheanticipationofsomethingtohappenanduncertainwhatitshouldbe.BecauseImademyselfapromise.Rightnow,though,Ican’tforthelifeofmethinkofagoodreasontokeepit.
Withthelightesttouch,Evan’shandsslideuptheoutsideofeachleg,overmyknees,thighs.“I’vegotitbad,Fred.”Hisvoicecomesouthoarse.“ThewayIseeit,youbettersendmetoacoldshowerbeforethisthinggetsserious.”
Ibitemyliptosmotherasmile.“Serious,huh?”
Hegrabsmyhandandplacesitonhischest.“Asaheartattack.”
Hisskinundermypalmishottothetouch.Inthequietpartofmymind,Iknowhe’sdangerous.Buttherestofit,theloud,screamingvoicebetweenmyears,tellsmetodragmyhandsdownhischest.Toundothezipperonhisjeans,reachintohisboxerbriefs,andwrapmyfingersaroundhisthick,throbbingerection.
EvansucksinabreathwhenIstrokehim.Helooksdown,watchingme,hisabdomenclenching.“Goodchoice.”
Withoutwarning,hedrawsmyhandawayandspinsmearound.Igriptheedgeofthedesktosteadymyselfashehastilytugsmyshortsdowntoexposemybareass.Hesqueezesmywarmfleshwithonehand,humminganappreciativesound.Ihearadraweropenandshut,followedbytheripofacondomwrapper.Hisfingersslidebetweenmylegs,findingmewet,andthenIfeelhimrubhimselfagainstmyfeverishskinasheleansovertowhisperinmyear.
“Idon’tmindifyouwanttobeloud.”
Athrillshootsthroughme.
Heleavesakissonmyshoulderashedragshiserectionalongmyachingcore,beforeslowlypushinginsideme.Withonehandonmyhip,andtheotherknottedinmyhairtopullmyheadbackwardandarchmyback,Evanfillsmecompletely.MynailsbitetheworndesktopasIpushback,takinghim.Theexquisiteachefogsmyvisionandquickensmypulse.
“Fuck,Gen.”Hegrindsoutthewords.Laysanotherkissatmytemple.
IbreatheouthisnamebecauseIcan’ttakethestaticanticipationamomentlonger.Ijustwanthimalready.Ineedhimtoputmeoutofmymisery.
Evanglideshishandupmyspine,undermyshirt,tounhookmybraandletitslidedownmyarms.Igrabhishand,guideittomybreast.Still,hestubbornlyrefusestomove.
“Whyareyouteasingme?”Idemand.
“BecauseIneverwantthistoend.”Histhumbbrushesovermynippleinthemostfeatherlightofcaresses.
Igroanmydesperationandbuckagainsthim,grindingonhisdick.
Chucklingsoftly,hebringshisotherhandupandclaspsbothbreastsnow.“Better?”
“No,”Imumble.“You’restillnotmoving.”Andthefeelofhisentirelengthlodgedinsideme,completelymotionless,isanewformoftorment.Nooxygenisreachingmylungs.Myskinisonfire,andI’mclosetoself-combusting.
“Breathe.”Hisvoiceissoftinmyear,hisfingersplayingwithmynipples.“Takeabreath,baby.”
Imanageashakyinhale,andjustastheairfillsmylungs,Evanwithdrawsslowly.I’mmid-exhalationwhenheslidesbackin,sendingawaveofsensationthroughmybody.
Myheaddropsbackonhisshoulder,experiencingeveryinchofhim.Pleasuretinglesinmynipplesandtightensmycoreashemovesinsideme,slowanddeliberate.WhenIcan’tquelltheneedalone,Imovehisrighthandbetweenmylegs.
“I’mclose,”Iwhisper.
“Already?”
“Feelstoogood.”Araggedbreathslipsout.“Missedhavingyouinsideme.”
Thatearnsmeasatisfiedgrowl.Herunshisfingerovermyclit.Gentleatfirst,thenmoreinsistentwhenImoanforhim.Itisn’tlongbeforeI’mshaking,leaningagainsthimforsupportastheorgasmsweepsthroughme.
“You’regorgeouswhenyoucome,”heraspsagainstmyneck.
Astinyfluttersofpleasurecontinuetodanceinsideme,Evanbendsmeoverthedesk.Hetakesmyhipswithbothhandsandpumpsintomewithstrong,forcefulthrusts.Justtherightintensity.Havingmelikeit’shislastnightonEarth.
Itwistmyheadtolookathim,flooredbytherawneeddarkeninghiseyes,theblissed-outhaze.Whenourgazeslock,hestills,groaningthroughhisclimax.Herunshishandsupmyback,soothingmymuscles,layingkissesacrossmysensitiveflesh.I’msatedandspent,panting,whenhestepsawaytothrowoutthecondom.
“I’mgonnagrabaGatorade,”hesays,bitinghislipashestaresatme.“Thenwe’redoingthatagain.”CHAPTER25
EVAN
“Sothere’ssomethingIneedtotellyou,”Shelleysaysafterourwaiterseatsusatatableoverlookingthewater.Itwasherchoicetohavedinneratthisupscalerestaurant,andasIpickupthemenuandgetalookattheprices,I’malreadyassumingI’llbetheonefootingthebill.
Morethanthat,I’mnowsuspiciousashell,becauseanytimemymotherstartsasentencewith“there’ssomethingIneedtotellyou,”it’susuallyfollowedbytheconfessionthatshe’sskippingtownagain,orshe’sbrokeandneedscash.ThisisonlythesecondtimeI’veseenhersinceagreeingtogiveheranotherchance;lastweekwehadlunchnearthebudgethotelwheresheworksinhousekeeping.Shedidn’thitmeupformoneyduringthatmeetup,butIshouldn’thavepresumedit’dbealastingtrend.
Catchingmywaryexpression,shequicklywavesahandtodismissmyconcerns.“No,no,it’snothingbad.Ipromise.”Butshedoesn’telaborate.Hercheeksturnalittlepink.
“Whatisit?”Ipush,onlytobeinterruptedbyourserver,whoreturnstotakeourdrinkorders.
Shelleyrequestsasparklingwater.Iaskforapaleale,whichcouldendupbeingariskymovedependingonShelley’snews.Thispastweek,though,I’vebeentestingmyselftoseeifIcanlivethatcheesymottoIgaveGenatthepartylastweek:Learntoembracemoderation.I’dneverpushalcoholonGenevievewhenshe’shellbentonsobriety,but,personally,I’dliketobeabletohaveabeerortwoatpokernightwithoutworryingabouttakingittoofar.
“YouknowhowI’vealwaysloveddoingmyhairandmakeupandthatkindofstuff?”Shelleyshiftsawkwardlyinherchair,onehandfidgetingwithherwaterglass.“Prettygoodatittoo.”
“Yeah…?”Idon’tknowwhereshe’sgoingwiththis.
“So,well,IwastalkingtoRaya…youknow,thatcoworkerIwastellingyouaboutlastweek?”
Inod.“Right.Thechickwiththepsychotoddlerwhokilledtheirgoldfish.”
Shelleysputterswithlaughter.“Evan!Itoldyou,baby,thatwasanaccident.Cassidy’sonlythree.Shedidn’tknowfishcan’tbreatheoutofwater.”
“Soundslikesomethingapsychopathwouldsay.”
Mymomletsoutaloudsnortthatcausesthecoupleintheneighboringtabletoglareatuswithdeepfrowns.Thewomaniswearingastringofpearlsandahigh-neckedsilkblouse,whiletheman’srockingapolka-dotascot.I’msurprisedtheydon’tgoalloutandshushus.Theylooklikeshushers.
ShelleyandIexchangeaneyeroll,amomentofsharedhumorthatmakesmefalterforabeat.Thisisawholenewmother-sonexperienceforus.Imean,havingdinneronthewaterfront,exchangingconspiratoriallooksabouttheuptightpatronsnexttous.Laughingtogether.It’ssurreal.
YetIdon’tentirelyhateit.
“Anyway,”Shelleysays,pickingupherglass.Shetakesaquicksip.“NotsureifImentioneditbefore,butRayahasasecondjob.Worksatahairsalonontheweekends.Andyesterday,shetellsmehersalon’sopeningasecondlocationandisgonnahaveabunchofchairsavailabletorent.”
“Chairs?”
“Yeah,that’showitworksintheindustry.Thestylistsrentthechairfromthesalon.”Shetakesabreath.“IthinkIwannadoit.”
Iwrinklemybrow.“What?Becomeahairdresser?”
Shelleynodsearnestly.
“Okay.Don’tyouneedsomekindofdegreeforthat?Oracertificateattheveryleast?”
Hercheeksturnevenredder.IfI’mreadingherright,shelooksembarrassed.“I,um,enrolledincosmetologyschool.Feesforthefirstsemesteraredueattheendoftheweek,andIstartnextMonday.”
“Oh.”Inodslowly,waitingfortherest.
Iwaitfor:ButI’malittleshortonfunds,baby,socanyou…?
Or:I’mgonnahavetoquitthishousekeepinggigtofocusallmyattentiononschool,whichmeansI’llneedaplacetocrash…?
Istareatherandwait…butitdoesn’tcome.
“What?”Shelley’sfaceturnsanxious.“Whatisit,baby?Youthinkit’sabadidea?”
“No.Notatall.”Iclearmythroatandtrytopasteonanencouragingsmile.“Itsoundsgreat.It’sjust…”
Shegivesaknowinglook.“YouthoughtIwasgonnahityouupforcash.”
“Uh.Well.Yes.”
Regretflickersthroughhereyes.“Imean,youhaveeveryrighttothinktheworstofme.Butletmetellya,whenyou’renotblowingeverypaycheckonbooze?Thesavingsareoutofthisworld.”
Igrinwryly.“Ibet.”
“I’vegotenoughsavedupforthefirstsemester,”sheassuresme.“Andtheclassesareatnight,soIdon’thavetoquitmygigatthehotel.It’sallgood,baby.Ipromise.”Shepicksuphermenu.“Whatlooksgood?I’mthinkingthemussels.Mytreat,bytheway.”
Luckily,herheadisburiedinthemenu,soI’mabletowipetheshockfrommyfacebeforesheseesit.Forgetsurreal—thisisdownrightmiraculous.Whoisthiswomanandwhathasshedonewithmymother?
Icontinuetobattlemyastonishmentasweorderourmealsandproceedtoenjoyareallynicedinner.I’mnotna?veenoughtodiverightintotheShe’sChangedcamp,butI’mwillingtodipinatoeortwo.Theconversationflowseasily.There’snotension,nouncomfortablesilences.TheonlytimewecomeclosetooneiswhenshebringsupCooper,butIbrushoffthesubjectbysaying,“Let’snotgothere,”andwemoveon.
“Youdidn’ttellmeGenevieveisbackhome,”Shelleysays,hertonetentativeasshewatchesmedevourmysurfandturf.
“Yeah,”Ianswerbetweenbites.“Shecamebackforhermom’sfuneralandstuckaroundtohelpRonanoutatthestoneyard.”
“Iwassorrytohearabouthermomma.Iknowtheyweren’tclose,andGodknowsLauriewasn’ttheeasiestwomantogetalongwith,butitcan’tbeeasyforGenevieve.”
“YouknowGen.She’sresilient.”
Shelleysmiles.“Oh,thatgirl’safighter.”Sheeyesmefromacrossthetable.“Yougonnamarryher?”
Thequestioncatchesmesooff-guardIchokeonascallop.Coughingwildly,Iscrambleformywaterglass,whilethejerkcoupleatthenexttablegloweratmeforthedisruption.
“Gee,”IcroakafterI’veclearedtheobstruction,gloweringrightbackatthem.“Sosorrytodisturbyouwithmynear-deathexperience.”
Thewomanhuffsandhonest-to-Godclutchesherpearls.
Mymomistryingnottolaugh.“Evan,”shewarns.
Igulpdownsomemorewaterbeforepickingupmyforkagain.“Toansweryourquestion,”Isay,loweringmyvoice,“I’mprettysureGenisn’tinterestedinmarryingme.”
“Bullsh—nonsense,”Shelleycorrectsherself,shootingaglanceatthejudgeytable,becauseGodforbidweupsetthePearlClutcher.“Youtwoaremeanttobetogether.Iknewfromthesecondyoustarteddatingthatyou’dgetmarriedsomedayandlivehappilyeverafterandallthat.”
“Uh-huh.I’msureyouknewfromthesecondwestarteddating.”
“It’strue,”sheinsists.“Askyouruncle.ItoldLevimyprediction,andhedidthatthinghedoes—youknow,thathalfsigh,halfgrumble—becauseheknowsmypredictionsalwayscometrue.”Shesmilessmugly.“IcalleditwithLeviandTim,muchashehatestoadmitit.AndIknewitwithyourbrothertoo,whenImethisnewgirlfriend.Markmywords,he’sgonnamarryher.”
Idon’tdoubtthatCooperandMacareendgame.Butthatdoesn’tmeanI’mreadytoacceptthatmymom—whocouldn’tkeepherownmarriagetogether,nottomentionallhersubsequentrelationships—issomekindofloveclairvoyant.
“Idon’tthinkGen’sasconfidentasyouareinourfuture,”Isayruefully.
Hell,IcanbarelyconvinceGentospendthenight,letaloneagreetodatemeagain.Sincethebonfire,she’sbeenoveratmyplacenearlyeverynight.IfIdidn’tknowanybetter,I’dthinkshewasusingmeforsex.Butit’salotmorethanthat.Shedoesn’tbailthemomentwerecoverfromourrespectiveorgasms.Shestaystocuddle.ShetakesDaisyforwalkswithme.Sheevendroppedoffdinnerformeacoupletimes.
ButwheneverIpushhertodefinewhatthisis,sheclamsup.Tellsmenottooverthinkit.Soofcourse,allIdoisthinkaboutit.
“Thengiveherconfidence,”Shelleysayswithashrug.“Youwantherback,yeah?”
“Ohyeah,”Isigh
“Thenkeepworkingatit.”
“Trustme,I’mtrying.”NowIgroan.“Butshemadeitclearshe’snotlookingtobemygirlfriendagainandthatallwe’redoingisfucking.”
“Ahem!”comesanincensedcry.It’sHusbandPearlClutcher.“Isittoomuchtoasktoenjoyourmealswithoutbeingsurroundedbyfilthylanguage?”
Iopenmymouthtoretort,butmymotherbeatsmetoit.
Eyesgleamingwithirritation,sheaddressestheothertablebyjabbingafingertowardtheman.“Hey,mister,youwannatalkaboutfilth?You’vebeencheckingoutmyracksincethemomentIsatdown.Andyou”—shedirectsthatatthewife—“don’tthinkIdidn’tseeyouslippingyourphonenumbertothathandsomeyoungstudofawaiterwhenyourhubbywasinthejohn.”
Isnickerintomyhand.
“Now,I’mtryingtohaveaconversationwithmyson,sohow’boutyoutwoNosyNelliesfocusonyourownboringlivesandmindyourowndamnbusiness?”
Thatshutsthembothup.
Shelleyliftsabrowwhensheseesmegrinning.“What?Imight’veturnedanewleaf,butyoucan’texpectmetoalwaysturntheothercheek.EvenJesushadhislimits,baby.”
I’mfeelingoddlygiddyasIcrossthebridgeanddrivebacktotheBayafterdinnerwithShelley.Ican’tlie—thatwasn’tawful.Infact,I…trulyhadagoodtime.Whowould’vethought?
TheinstincttotellmybrotheraboutitissostrongthatIendupveeringofftheroadhome,turningleftinsteadofright.No,Ican’triskseeingCooperrightnow.He’lljustaskwhyI’minsuchagoodmood,atwhichpointI’llhavetolie,andhe’llseethroughtheliebecauseoftwintelepathy,andthenwe’llgetinafight.
SoIdrivetoGen’shouseinstead.Parkingonthecurboutfront,Ihopoffmybikeandfishmyphoneoutofmypocket.IshootoffaquicktexttoGen.
Me:I’mstandingoutsideyourplacelikesomelovesickstalker.Debatingwhethertothrowrocksatyourwindoworjustknockonthefrontdoor.
Sherespondsalmostinstantly.
Her:Usethedoor,youheathen.We’readultsnow,remember?
Igrinatthephone.True.Butthisisdefinitelyafirst,Ireflect,asItreadupthefrontwalktothedoor,whichswingsopenbeforeIcanringthebell.I’mmetbythesightofGenevieve’sdad,whostartleswhenhefindsmestandingthere.
“Evan,”hesaysgruffly,noddingingreeting.Hisgazetakesinmyoutfit.“Youwearingkhakis?”
“Uh.Yeah.”Ishovemyhandsinthepocketsofsaidkhakis.“Ihadathinginthecity.”
Henodsagain.“Gen’supstairs.Iwasjustheadingouttomeetyouruncleforabeer,actually.”
“Oh,nice.TellhimIsaidhey.”
“Renosarelookinggreat,”Gen’sdadadds,gesturinginthevaguedirectionofinside.“Thenewkitchencabinetsturnedoutnice.”
“Thanks.”Ifeelalittleburstofpride,becauseIinstalledthosecabinetsmyself.
“Anyway.”Ronaneyesmeagain.“GladyouandGenaregettingalongagain.”Heclapsmyshoulderbeforestridingofftowardthepickuptruckinthedriveway.
Iletmyselfin,halfexpectingoneofGen’smillionbrotherstointerceptme,butthehouseisquietasIheadforthestairs.LasttimeIwashere,theplacewasjam-packedwithmournersandreverberatingwithhushedconversation.Tonight,allIheararethecreaksandgroansoftheoldhouse,includingtheveryloudprotestofthesecondstepfromthetopwhenIwalkoverit.GenandIalwaysmadesuretoskipoveritwheneverwesnuckinaftercurfew,buttonightthere’snoneedforstealth.
Gen’slyingonhersidereadingabookwhenIenterherroom.Mygazefeastsonhersexybodyandthecurtainofblackhaircascadingoveroneshoulder.Shelooksupatmyentrance.
“Areyouwearingkhakis?”shedemands.
“Yup.”Ithrowmyselfonthebed,causingherpaperbacktobounceonthemattress.
Shegrabsitbeforeitfallsovertheedge.“Jerk.”
Grinning,Iclaspbothhandsbehindmyneckandgetcomfortable.Gensmilesinamusementasshewatchesmekickoffmyshoesandstretchoutmylegs.I’mtoodamnbigforthisbed,myfeethangingofftheend.
“You’reinagoodmood,”sheremarks.
“Iam,”Iagree.
“Areyougoingtoelaborate?”
“HaddinnerwithShelleytonight.”
“Youdid?”Gensoundssurprised.“Youdidn’tmentionanythingaboutitwhenwespokethismorning.Wasitalast-minutething?”
“Notreally.”
“Sowhydidn’tyoutellme?”WhenIshrug,shepokesmeintherib.Hard.“Evan.”
Iglanceoverather.She’ssittingcross-leggedbesideme,herastuteblueeyesstudyingmyface.“Idon’tknow.IguessIdidn’tsayanythingjustincaseshebailed.”
Gennodsinunderstanding.“Ah.That’swhyyoukeeptellingmeaboutthesemeetingsafterthefact.Youdon’twanttogetyourhopesupbeforehand.”
Shegetsit.
“Honestly?”Isayquietly.“EverytimeIdrivetoCharlestontoseeher,I’vegivenitfifty-fiftyoddsonwhethershe’llshow.”Alumpformsinmythroat.“Sofarshehasn’tmissedadate.”
Genmovesclosertocurlupbesideme,restingherpalmonmyabdomen.Thesweetscentofherhairwaftsuptomynose.“I’mglad.AndIhopetoGodshekeepsitup.Mymom’sgone,butyoursstillhasachancetoredeemherself.”
Iwrapmyarmaroundhershoulderandplantakissatopherhead.“Iranintoyourdadatthefrontdoor,bytheway.Hewashappytoseeme.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Faceit,Fred.Yourdad’salwayslovedme.”
“There’snoaccountingfortaste.”
“Hesaidhe’sgladyouandIaregettingalongagain.”Islidemyhanddowntolightlypinchherass.“So,thewayIseeit,allthat’slefttodonowismakeitofficial.”
“Or…”
Shetrailsoffenticinglyandrollsover—directlyontopofme.I’msemi-hardalmostinstantly,andhertinysmiletellsmeshenotices.
“Wecanquittalkingandtakeadvantageofthisemptyhouse,”shefinishes,andthenshe’sliftingmyshirtupandkissingmychest,andmybrainshort-circuits.
Agroanslipsoutwhensheundoesthebuttonofmykhakis.
“Gen,”Iprotest,becauseIknowshe’stryingtodistractmewithsex.Andit’sworking.
Shepeersupatmewithbig,innocenteyes.“It’sokay,baby.Idon’tmindifyouwanttobeloud.”
She’sthrowingmyownwordsbackatme,utteredthenightofthebonfirebeforeIspenthoursmakinghergaspandmoanandscream.Iwasrelentlessinmyseductionthatnight.Butnowit’smyturntobeweakandhelpless,tofightforcontrolassheleavesatrailofhotkissesalongmystomachonherwaydownsouth.
Whenshetakesmycockinhermouth,Igiveuponresisting.There’snobetterfeelingintheworldthanhavingGenswallowmeup.Shecurlsonedelicatehandaroundmyshaftandsucksmedeep,whileherotherhandstrokesmychest,hernailsscrapingalongmysensitizedflesh.
Igiveanupwardthrust,pleasuregatheringinsideme,pulsequickeningwitheachlanguidswipeofhertongue.AndasItanglemyfingersinherhairandrockagainstherwet,eagermouth,Itellmyselfthatwecantalkafter.Later.Whenmyheartisn’thammeringagainstmyribs,andmyballsaren’tdrawntightwithneed.
Butwenevergetaroundtohavingthattalk.CHAPTER26
EVAN
Weekslater,IlieinmybedwhileGenisgettingdressed.It’spastnoon,thetwoofushavingsleptinafterstayinguplatewithMacandCooperinaMarioKartdeathmatchthatdamnnearcametoblows.Girlsaresuchsorelosers.
“ItoldyouIshouldhavegonehomelastnight,”shegrumbles.
“Youseehowscrewedupthisis,”Ianswer,watchingassheshimmiesatinypairofcutoffshortsupherlong,tanlegs.I’mstillherewithasemiandshe’srunningofftohim
“Andifyou’dletmegohomelastnight,wewouldn’tbehavingthisconversation.”Shetiesherhairupinaponytailandwalksovertosiftthroughthesheetsforherphone.
“Stay.”
Genliftsherheadtoglareatme.“Stopit.”
“I’mserious.Blowhimoffandletmegodownonyouinstead.”
“Isn’tyourLittleBrothercomingoverforabarbecuetoday?”
“Yeah,inlikeanhour.ThinkofalltheorgasmsIcangiveyouuntilthen.”
Shefindsherphonetuckedundermybackandsnatchesit.
Iblinkinnocently.“How’dthatgetthere?”
Genrollshereyesbeforestraighteningupandhuntingforhershirt.“Youknewthiswasthedeal.StopactinglikeIchangedtherules.”
Thedealbeingthatforthelastseveralweeks,GenandIhavebeengoingatitlikeit’stheendoftheworld,whileshe’sstilldatingDeputyDumbfuck.Nowshe’sjumpingoutofmybedandrightintohiscar.Howisthishappening?
“GuessIthoughttheremayhavebeensomeimpliedamendmentstothatdealafteryoubeggedmetospankyoulastnight,butsure.”
Shepauses,afterpullinghertopon,todirectafrownmyway.“Andifyouwanttokeepthosespankingprivileges,mindyourmouth.”
Fornogoodreason,anunbiddenimageofhergoingdownonthedweebinhiscruiserflashesbehindmyeyes.MydickgoessoftasIshakethethought.ThisiswhyIdon’task.Verylittlecouldstopmefromrunninguponhimatthegasstationandflickingalitmatchhisway.
Andyet…“Areyousleepingwithhim?”Ifindmyselfblurtingout.
Genlooksatme,tiltingherheadwithsympathyasshecomestositontheedgeofthebed.Shebrushesherlipsovermineinafleetingcaress.“No.”
Atleastthere’sthat.
“Wehaven’tevenkissed.”
Relieffloodsmychest.“Sothenwhatareyougettingoutofit?”
Withafrustratedsigh,shestandsandgrabsherkeysfromthenightstand.“Let’snot,okay?”
“I’mserious.”Isitup.“Whatareyougettingoutofit?”
Shedoesn’tanswer,andthat’swhenIrealizeshedoesn’thaveto.Ialreadyknowtheanswer.Webothdo.There’sonlyonereasonshe’scontinuingtodateHarrisondespitethefacttheyhaven’tsomuchaskissed—it’sherwayofkeepingthatfinalbitofdistancebetweenus.Keepingmeatarm’slength.
NowI’mtheonesighinginfrustration.“What’sitgoingtotaketomakethisofficialbetweenus?I’mdonemessingaround.”
“Done,huh?”
“YouknowwhatImean.”Iknowthischickwellenoughtounderstandanultimatumisthequickestwaytodriveheraway.Andthat’sthelastthingIwanttodo.
Wemight’vehadarockystartwhenshefirstmovedbacktotheBay,butthepathissmoothnow.It’sasifallthebadpartsofus,thefightingandjealousyandchasinghighs—it’smorphedintosomethingelse.Somethingsofter.Don’tgetmewrong,thepassion’sstillthere.Thesoul-deepneedtobetogether,tolayourselvescompletelybareandraw,isstrongerthanever.Butthere’ssomethingdifferentaboutusnow.Abouther.Aboutme.
“Iwantusbacktogetherforreal,”Itellher.“What’stheholdup?”
Genleansagainstmydresserandstaresatthefloor.Thesummer’salmostover,andstillthisquestionhangsbetweenus.AllthistimeIthoughtwewereofthesamemind,movinginthesamedirection—together.Now,everysecondshespendsdecidingwhatnottosay,thefracturegetswider.
“Youstilldon’ttrustme,”Ianswerforher.Mytoneisgrim.
“Idotrustyou.”
“Notenough.”Frustrationjamsinmythroat.“WhatdoIhavetodotoprovemyself?”
“It’shard,”shesays,anguishdrawinglinesacrossherface.“Ihavealifetimeofinstinctaboutyouthatsaysthere’snowayEvanHartleygavehimselfacompletepersonalitymakeoverinonesummer.Yeah,youdidn’tchaseRandalloffwithanaxandyou’renotgettingwastedeverynight,butIguessI’mstillhesitanttobelieveyou’vechanged.Feelstooeasy.”
“Hasitoccurredtoyouthere’ssomethingmoreimportanttomeinthisroomthandrinkingandfighting?”
“Iknowyouwantthistowork.”Mostoftheagitationleaveshervoice.“Butyou’renottheonlyoneIhavedoubtsabout.EverydayIquestionwhetherIcantrustmyself.HowmuchI’vereallychanged.Putthetwoofusbacktogether,andmaybewerealizethisconditionistemporaryandweenduprightbackinouroldroles.”
Igotoher,holdingher.Becauserighthere,thetwoofus,istheonlythingthat’severmadesensetome.Andwhatevershetellsherself,Iknowshefeelsittoo.
“Trustme,baby.Giveusachancetobegoodforeachother.HowamIevergoingtoconvinceyouwecanifyouwon’ttry?”
Herphonebuzzesinherpocket.ShegivesmeacontriteshrugasIreleasehertoanswerit.
“Trina,”shesays,wrinklingherforehead.
Ihaven’theardthatnameinawhile.Trinawenttohighschoolwithus,thoughshewasmoreafriendofthegirlsinourcrewthanofCooperorme.IfIrememberright,shemovednotlongaftergraduation.ButherandGenusedtobetight.Twopeasinachaospod.
“She’sintownfortheweekend,”shereadsaloud.“Wantstograbadrink.”Genswipesherfingeracrossthescreentodeletethetext,thenshovesthephonebackinherpocket.
“Youshouldgo.”
Sheletsoutasarcasticlaugh.“Pass.Lasttimeshecamehomeforavisit,Igotpiss-drunkandstormedintoDeputyRandall’shouseinthemiddleofthenighttoscreamathiswifeaboutwhatacreepshemarried.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
Anideaspringstomymind.“Goanyway.”
Herskepticalgazesaysthere’dbetterbemoretothatsuggestion.AndasIrollitoverinmyhead,theplanstartstomakemoresense.Maybethethingsheneedstofinallytrustherselfistheonlythingshefearsmorethanme.Thethingthatdroveheroutoftowninthefirstplace.
“Treatitasatest,”Iexplain.“Ifyoucanbehaveyourselfaroundthegirlwhoonceslippedacidtothegirls’volleyballcoachinthemiddleofamatch,I’dsayyouconqueredyourdemons.”
Sure,itmightbealittlehairbrained,butI’mdesperatehere.Onewayoranother,IneedtogetGenonmyside.Thelongerwestaytrappedinrelationshiplimbo,themoreshegetsusedtotheideaofusnotbeingacouple.Andthefurtherawaysheslips.
“Atest,”sheechoesdubiously.
Inod.“Thefinalexamtoyourjourneyofreform.ShowyourselfyoucanspendaneveningwithTrinaandnotburnanythingdown.”
Hesitationlingersonhergorgeousface,butatleastshe’snotshootingdowntheideaoutright.“I’llthinkonit,”shefinallysays.Then,tomychagrin,sheheadsoutmybedroomdoor.“Talktoyoulater.Harrison’swaiting.”
Rileyshowsuparoundoneo’clockwitharackofmarinatedribsandanotherhomemadepiecourtesyofAuntLiz.Godblessthatwoman.Ileadhimouttothebackdeck,mymouthwateringasIinhalethearomaofmeatandpastry.Mytwofavoritethings.
“How’syourweekbeen?”Iaskhimasweprepthebarbecue.
Heshrugs.“Meh.”
“Youlookingforwardtoschoolstartinginafewweeks?”
“Whatdoyouthink?”
Igrin.“You’reright.Dumbquestion.”Ialwayshatedittoo,watchingwithdreadasthecalendarnearedcloserandclosertoSeptember.
“But,”hesays,brighteningslightly,“Hailey’sfamilyiscomingbackandthey’llbeheretillLaborDay.”
“Hailey…That’sthegirlwhosenumberyougotatBigMolly’s,right?”Rileywentoutwithherafewtimesoverthesummer,buteverytimeIaskedfordetails,he’dclammedup.
Today,he’sabitmoreforthcoming.“Yeah.We’vebeentextingsinceshewentbackhome.”Heshoveshishandsinthepocketsofhisboardshorts,thenremovesthemandstartsfidgetingwithapairofmetaltongs.
“What’sgoingon?You’reactingallbouncy.”
“Bouncy?”
“Fidgety.Whatever.Areyounervousaboutseeingher,isthatit?”
“Sorta?”
“Butyouguyshavealreadygoneoutbefore,”Iremindhim.“What’stheretobenervousabout?”
“Weplayedminigolfandwenttothemoviesacoupletimes.Oh,andicecreamontheboardwalk.So,like,fourtimes.Butwenever—”Hestopsabruptly
Inarrowmyeyesathim,butheavoidsmygaze.He’santsyagain,nowpretendingtocheckthetemperatureonthebarbecuelikesomegrillingexpert,whenwebothknowhe’snevergrilledanythingadayinhislife.
“Youneverwhat?”Thenitdawnsonme.Istifleacurse.“Awman,nope,don’ttellme.Idon’tneedtohearabouthowyou’replanningonhavingsex.Yourauntwouldmurder—”
“Jeez!”heyelps.“We’renothavingsex,youidiot.”
I’mswampedwithrelief,althoughatadintriguedbythegenuineshockonhisface,asifhecan’tfathomtheideaofsleepingwiththechick.Riley’sfourteen,theageIlostmyvirginity,butIsupposenoteveryoneisanearlybloomerlikeIwas.
“Ijustwannakissher,”headds,theconfessioncomingoutasanembarrassedmumble.
“Oh.Oh.Okay.”Kissing?Icanhandleachataboutkissing.There’snowayAuntLizcanbemadatmeforthat,right?“Well.Judgingbyyourtomatoface,Itakeityou’veneverdoneitbefore?”
Heawkwardlyjerkshisheadfromsidetoside,areluctantno
“Dude,youdon’tneedtobeembarrassed.Lotsofguysyouragehaven’tkissedanyone.”Ileanagainsttherailingofthedeck,slantingmyhead.“Sowhatdoyouwanttoknow?Howmuchtongueistoomuchtongue?Whethertograbherboobswhenyoudoit?”
Hesquawksoutalaugh,butsomeoftheblushhaslefthisface.Relaxing,hewandersovertostandbesideme.Themouth-wateringsmelloftheribscookingonthegrillfloatstowardus.
“I’mjust,like,notsurehowtogoforit.Like,doIsaysomethingbeforehand?”Herubshisforeheadwiththebackofhishand.“WhatifIleaninandshe’snotreadyforit,andourheadssmashtogetherandIbreakhernose?”
Ichokedownalaugh,becauseIknowhewouldn’tappreciatebeinglaughedatduringsuchasensitivetopic.“I’malmostcertainthatwon’thappen.Butyeah,youdon’twanttojustgoforitwhileshe’smid-sentenceoranything.There’sathingcalledconsent.So,readthemoment,youknow?Waitforalullintheconversation,gaugeherexpressionandlookforthesignals.”
“Whatsignals?”
“Like,ifshe’slickingherlips,itusuallymeansshe’sthinkingaboutkissingyou.Ifshe’sstaringatyourmouth,alsoagoodsign.Actually,that’sthewayin,”Itellhim,pushingawayfromtherailingandheadingforthecoolernearthedoor.“Alright,listenup.Thisiswhatyougottado.”
Hetrailsafterme,acceptingthesodaIhandhim.FormyselfIgetabeer,twistingoffthecapandtossingitintheplasticbucketonthedeck.Ireturntothewoodenrailingandhopuptositatopit.
“Soattheendofthedate,”Icontinue,“orinthemiddle,orwheneveryougatherupthecouragetodoit,thisiswhatyoudo—youstareatherlips.Forlikefiveseconds.”
Rileysputtersoutalaugh.“That’ssocreepy!”
“It’sreallynot.Stareatherlipsuntilshegetsallawkwardandsays,whyareyoulookingatmelikethat?Orsomevariationofthatquestion.”Whenheopenshismouthtoprotest,Iinterject,“Trustme,she’llsayit.Andwhenshedoes,yousay,becauseIreallywanttokissyourightnow—canI?Sonowshe’sprepared,right?Andbasedonherresponse,yougofromthere.”
“Whatifherresponseisno?”
“Thenyouhandletherejectionlikeaman,tellheryouhadagreatsummerwithher,andwishherluckonherfutureendeavors.”
Ican’thelpbutmarvelatthesheermaturityI’mexuding.IfonlyGenwereheretoseeit.
“Butforwhatit’sworth,achickdoesn’tgooutwithsomeonefourtimesifshe’snotinterested,”Iassurehim.
“Truth,”Cooper’svoiceechoesfromtheslidingdoor.“Foronce,mybrother’snottalkingoutofhisass.”
Riley’sgazesnapstothedoor.Hisjawfallingopen,heglancesatCooper,thenme,thenCoopagain,andfinallyme.“Holyshit,youdidn’ttellmeyouguyswereidentical,”heaccuses.
Irollmyeyes.“Isaidweweretwins.Figuredyou’dextrapolatefromthere.”
Grinning,CoopextendsahandtowardmyLittleBrother.“Hey,I’mCooper.It’snicetofinallymeetyou.”
Riley’sstillblinkinglikeanowl,astoundedatourtwinship.“Wow.It’sscaryhowalikeyoulook.Ifyouweren’twearingdifferentclothes,Idon’tthinkI’dbeabletotellyouapart.”
“Notmanypeoplecan,”Isaywithashrug.
“Whataboutgirls?Like,yourgirlfriends?Didtheyevergetyouguysmixedup?”He’sutterlyfascinated.
“Sometimes,”Coopanswersashegrabsabeerforhimself.Hestridestowardthebarbecue,liftsthelid,andgroanshappily.“Ohman,thoseribslookamazing.”HeturnsbacktoRiley.“Seriousgirlfriendsusuallyknowthedifference,though.Mygirlsaysshecantellusapartbyourfootsteps.”
“Idon’tbelievethatforasecond,”Icrack,sippingmybeer.Yes,Maccantellusapart,butfromthesoundswemakewhilewewalk?Icallbullshit.
Coopflashesasmugsmile.“It’strue.”
Beyondhisshoulder,IglimpseMacthroughtheopenslidingdoors.Shejustenteredthekitchenandisremovingitemsfromthefridge.Thenshestartspreparingasandwichatthecounter,herbacktous.
Islideofftherailing.“Irequestpermissiontotestthattheory.”
Cooperfollowsmygaze,smirks,andnodsmagnanimously.“Goforit.”
UtilizingthestealthmodeI’dperfectedafteryearsofsneakinginandoutofhousesandgirls’bedrooms,Icreepintothekitchen.Macisfocusedonarrangingcheeseslicesonherbread,singingsoftlytoherself.OnlywhenI’mcloseenoughthatshewon’thavemuchtimetoturnaround,Iwalknormallyandcomeupbehindher.
Wrappingbothhandsaroundherwaist,Inuzzleherneckandspeakinmyperfect,uncannyCoopervoice.“Hey,babe,yourasslooksgoodenoughtoeatinthoseshorts.”
Anoutragedcryfillsthekitchenasshespinsaroundandtriestokneemeinthegroin.“Whatthefuck,Evan!Why?”
Luckily,Icaptureherkneewithbothhandsbeforeitconnectswiththefamilyjewels.ThenIdartbackwardandraisemyhandsinsurrender.Fromthedeck,loudlaughtergreetsmyears.
“Toldyou!”Coopercallsout.
“Whatiswrongwithyou!”Machuffs.
“Itwasjustanexperiment,”Iprotest,keepingmydistance.“Question,though.Howdidyouknowitwasme?”
“Yourfootsteps,”shegrowls.“Youwalklikeit’sagame.”
“Whatdoesthatevenmean?”
“Evan,pleasegetoutofmysightbeforeIpunchyouinyourstupidface.”
Igobackoutsidewithadefeatedsagtomyshoulders.“ShesaysIwalklikeit’sagame,”Iinformmybrother,whonodsasifthatmakesanygoddamnsense.
Riley,asusual,isinhysterics.SeemslikeallIdoismakethiskidbustoutinlaughter.
Butmaybethat’sagoodthing.
Itendsupbeingagoodday.Goodfood,goodcompany,goodeverything.EvenCooperisinhighspirits.Hedoesn’tgetonmycaseaboutGenorwhateverelsedisappointshimaboutme,notevenonce.He’s,dareIsayit,downrightchipper.HeandMacfaceoffagainstmeandRileyinagameofbeachvolleyball,andwhenLizcomestopickRileyuparoundfouro’clock,helooksbummedtoleave.
Butinmylife,“good”isafleetingconcept.WhichiswhyI’mnotsurprisedwhenlater,whileI’monthebeachwithMacandCooperwatchingDaisychaseseagulls,I’mfacedwithanewdilemma.
Shelley’sblowingupmyphoneaboutrandomstuffinbetweentryingtosetupanotherdate.Iusuallydon’tspendmuchtimeonmyphone,soansweringthebarrageoftextshasCoopereyeingmeinsuspicion.NormallyI’djustturnitoffandignorethemessagesuntillater,butI’vefoundShelleygetsimpatient.IfIdon’tanswer,shegoesintoapanicspiral,thinkingI’veblownheroff.I’mworriedshemightimpulsivelydriveouthere,andIcan’thavethat.
It’sstillweird,spendingtimewithherlikeanormalmom-and-sonduo.Talkingaboutourdaysandpopculture.AllthewhiledelicatelytryingtoavoidmentionofCoopertostaveofftheinevitablequestionofwhenhemightjoinusatoneofourmeetups.Ihatelyingtomybrother,butCooper’salongwayfromreadytoknowaboutanyofthis.
PlayingwithDaisy,heshoutssomethingatmeaboutpizzafordinner.Inodabsently,whileShelleyistellingmethere’sastraycathangingaroundoutsideherwork,andshe’sgottenitinherheadshe’sgoingtotakeithome.Whichmakesmethinksheprobablyshouldhavehadtopracticewithapetbeforehavingtwins,butwhatthehelldoIknow?
Achewed-up,sandytennisballsuddenlylandsinmylap.Thenablurofgoldenfurisflyingatmyface.Daisybarrelsintometosnatchtheballbeforerunningawayagain.
“Hey!Whatthehell?”Isputter.
Cooperstandsoverme,allpuffedupandbothered.“YoutalkingtoGen?”
Notthisagain.“No.Fuckoff.”
“You’vebeenhunchedoverthatthingeversinceRileyleft.Whoisit?”
“Sincewhendoyoucare?”
“Leavehimalone,”shoutsMac,who’sstilltossingtheballwithDaisyatthetideline.
Cooperdoestheopposite—heyanksthephonefrommyhand.Instantly,I’monmyfeet,wrestlinghimforit.
“Whyareyousuchadramaqueen?”Igetonehandonthephonebeforehesweepsmylegandweenduprollingaroundinthesand.
“Growup,”Coopergruntsback.Hedigshiselbowintomykidney,stillreachingforthephonewhilewetossaround.“Whatareyouhiding?”
“Comeon,quitit.”MacstandsoverusnowwithDaisybarkinglikeshe’swaitingtogettaggedin.
Fedup,Ithrowsandinhisfaceandclimbtomyfeet,brushingmyselfoff.IshruginresponsetoMac’slooksofexasperation.
“Hestartedit.”
Sherollshereyes.
“You’reuptosomething.”Shakingsandoutofhishair,Cooperstandsupandsnarlsatmelikehe’sreadyforroundtwo.“Whatisit?”
“Eatshit.”
“Quitit,willyou?”Mac,everthepeacemaker,utterlyfailstogetthroughtohim.“You’rebothbeingridiculous.”
Idon’tparticularlycarethatCoop’ssuspiciousorannoyed.It’swhatever.Buthe’sgotthisperpetualsenseofentitlementtoknowandhaveanopiniononeverythingIdo—andI’msooverit.Overhimactingouthishang-upsonme.MytwinbrotherplayingapoorapproximationofafatherIneveraskedfor.
“Canwemoveon?”Macsaysinfrustration,glancingbetweenthetwoofus.“Please?”
Butit’stoolatenow.I’mpissed,andtheonlythingthatwillmakemefeelbetterisrubbingitinhisself-righteousface.“It’sShelley.”
Coopercomesupshort.Hisfaceisexpressionlessforamoment,asifheisn’tsureheheardmeright.Thenhesmirks,shakinghishead.“Right.”
Ithrowmyphoneathim.
Helooksatthescreen,thenatme.Allhumoranddisbeliefhasbeenreplacedbycold,quietrage.“Yourbrainfalloutofyourhead?”
“She’sgettingbetter.”
“JesusChrist,Evan.Yougethowstupidyousound?”
Ratherthananswer,IglanceatMac.“ThisiswhyIdidn’ttellhim.”
WhenIturnback,Cooper’supinmyface,allbutstandingonmytoes.“Thatwomanwasreadytorunoffwithourlifesavingsandyoujust,what,gocrawlingbacktoMommythefirstchanceyouget?”
Isetmyjawandbackawayfromhim.“Ididn’taskyoutolikeit.She’smymother.AndI’mnotkidding—she’smakingarealeffort,man.Shehasasteadyjob,herownapartment.Sheenrolledinbeautyschooltogetherhairdressingcertificate.Hasn’thadsomuchasasipofboozeinmonths.”
“Months?You’vebeendoingthisbehindmybackformonths?Andyouactuallybelievehercrap?”
Iswallowatiredsigh.“She’strying,Coop.”
“You’repathetic.”Whenhespitsoutthewords,it’slikehe’shadthemsittinginhismouthfortwentyyears.“Thetimeforgettingoveryourmommyissueswaswhenyoustoppedsleepingwithanight-light.”
“Dude,I’mnottheoneflyingoffthehandleatthementionofher.”
“Lookatwhatyou’redoing.”Headvancesonme,andItakeanotherstepback,onlybecauseIwasjustpraisingmyself-restrainttoGenearlier.“Onedrunk,deadbeatwomanwalksoutonyou,soyougofallinlovewithanotherone.Man,youcan’thangontoeitheroneofthem,andyouneverwill.”
MyfistitchestoputadentinCooper’sface.Hecansaywhathewantsaboutourmother.He’searnedhisangerthehonestway.ButnoonetalkslikethataboutGenwhileI’maround.
“Becauseyou’remyblood,I’mgoingtopretendIdidn’thearthat,”Itellhim,myvoicetightwithrestraint.“Butifyoufeellikeyougottoomanyteethinyourmouth,goaheadandtrythatshitagain.”
“Hey,hey.”MacwedgesherselfbetweenusandmanagestowalkCoopbackacouplepaces,thoughhisglarestillsayshe’sthinkingaboutmyoffer.“Bothofyoutakeitdownanotch.”SheputsbothhandsonCooper’schestuntilhedropshisgazetohers.Afewbreathslater,she’sgothisattention.“Iknowyoudon’twanttohearthis,butmaybegiveEvanthebenefitofthedoubt.”
“Wetriedthatlasttime.”Heflickshisgazetome.“How’dthatturnout?”
“Okay,”shesaysquietly.“Butthisisnow.IfEvansaysShelley’smakinganeffort,whynottrusthim?Youcouldgohavealookforyourself.Ifyou’dbeopentomeetingher.”
HetearsawayfromMac.“Oh,fuckoff.Bothofyou.Thisgangingupstuffisn’tcutemostofthetime,butaboutthis?”CooperlevelsMacwithawitheringglare.“Mindyourgoddamnbusiness.”
Atthat,hestormsoff,marchingbackuptothehouse.
Unfortunately,thisisn’tthefirsttimehe’slosthiscooloverShelley,andit’snotlikelytobethelast.Machasmoreexperiencewithhistantrumsthansheshould.Whichistosay,sheisn’tfazed.
“I’llworkonhim,”shepromisesmewithasadsmilebeforegoingafterhim.
Well.Noonewalkedawaybloody.Wemightcallthatasuccess,underthecircumstances.
Idon’tholdoutmuchhopeforMac’smission,though.Cooper’sbeenburnedonetoomanytimes,soIcan’tsayhisreactionisentirelyunwarranted.Inourfamilyhistory,Shelley’sdonemorewrongthanright,theworstofitpracticedonCoop,ashewasalwaystheonetryingtoprotectmefromherlatestbetrayal.Hisself-imposed,older-by-three-minutesbigbrothercomplexinsisteditwashisjobtoshieldmefromtheawfultruth:thatourmomwasunreliableatbestanddownrightmaliciousatworst.
SoIgetit.BecausenowitfeelslikeI’vebetrayedhim,thrownallthebrotheringbackinhisfacetotakeherside.Butthethingis,whilehereachedhistoleranceforheralongtimeago,I’vestillgotsomeleft.AndIhavetobelievepeoplecanchange.Ineedtobelieveit.
Otherwise,whatthehellamIdoingwithmylife?CHAPTER27
GENEVIEVE
Trinaisapieceofwork.Wemetindetentioninthesixthgradeandbecamefastfriends.SheenjoyedskippingclassandsmokingcigarettesinthebaseballdugoutasmuchasIdid,soreally,itwasinevitablethatwe’dcrosspaths.AndwhileIhavemoregoodmemoriesofTrinathanbad,I’mstillnervouswhenIwalkintothebartomeether.Evenwhenwewerekids,shealwayshadaninfectiousqualityabouther.Likeshewashavingsomuchfun,youwantedinonwhatevershewasgettingupto.Insatiableandalluring.
Evan’sright,though.IfIcansurviveTrina’stemptations,I’llmostdefinitelybecured.
“Damnit,Gen.”
Windingthroughthecrowdedhigh-toptables,Iturnatthefamiliarvoice.Trinasitsatatableagainstthewall,anemptyhighballandabottleofbeerinfrontofher.Shehopstoherfeetandgivesmeatighthug.
“Ihopedyou’dgottenhideoussincethelasttimeIsawyou,”shesays,brushingmyhairoffmyshoulder.“Wouldithavekilledyoutosproutsomeheinouszitsfortheoccasion?”
“Mybad,”Ilaugh.
“Sitdown,slag.”Shelooksovermyshoulderandwavesforawaitress.“Catchmeup.Whatthehellhaveyoubeenupto?”
Wedidn’treallytalkafterIleftAvalonBay.AsIdidwithmostofthistown,Iquitcoldturkey.Otherthansometextshereandthere,I’dkeptmydistance,evenmutingheronsocialmediasoIcouldn’tbetemptedbyherexploits.
“Asitturnsout,Istartanewjobsoon.Cooper’sgirlfriendisreopeningTheBeaconHotel.I’mthenewmanager.”
“Forreal?”She’sincredulousatfirst.Then,apparentlyrealizingthereisn’tapunchlinecoming,shethrowsbackaswigofherbeer.“ThatmeansthenexttimeIcometotown,you’rehookingmeupwitharoom.Ithinkmeandmydearmotherhaveexceededourquotaofqualitytime.”
Igrin.“Didn’tyougetinlastnight?”
“Exactly.”Hereyeswiden.“Shit,I’msorry.Iheardaboutyourmom.Youokay?”
Itseemslikeagesagonow,thoughit’sonlybeenafewmonths.TheremindersofMomarefewerandfurtherbetween.“Yeah,”Isayhonestly.“I’mgood.Thankyou.”
“I’dhavebeenatthefuneralifI’dknown.ButIonlyheardrecently.”
Idon’tthinkshemeansthemto,butthewordscomeoutlikeanaccusation.She’dhavebeenthereifI’dbotheredtotellher,isthesubtext.IfIhadn’tallbutghostedherayearago.Butthat’sprobablymyownguilttalking.
“It’sfine,really.Wasmostlyafamilything.Shedidn’twantabigfuss.”Leastofallfromherkids.
Trinagetsamenacingglintinhereyeasshesipsherdrink.“YouseeingmuchofEvanlately?”
Iswallowasigh.Forjustonenight,can’tsomethingbeaboutanythingbuthim?Myhead’sbeenonbackwardssinceIcamebacktotown.I’mmyfavoriteselfwhenI’mwithhim—andalsomyworst.Everythingatbothextremeswrappedupinthisvolatilecocktailwebecome.
“Sometimes,Iguess.Idon’tknow.It’scomplicated.”
“You’vebeenusingthatsamelinesincewewerefifteen.”
AndIdon’tfeelmuchbetterequippedthanIwasthen.
“Sowhat’sup?”Withanothermouthfulofbeer,sheplastersonherusualirreverencewhenshereadstheheavinessclosingin.“Youbackforgoodnow?”
“Looksthatway.”It’sstrange.Idon’tremembermakingthedecisiontostay.Itjustsnuckuponme,thetiesreattachingovernightwhileIslept.“Dad’ssellingthehouse,soIneedtofindanewplacesoon.”
“I’vegivensomethoughttostickingaroundtoo.”
Isnortalaugh.“Why?”
Trinaalwayshatedthistown.Orrather,thepeople.Shelovedherfriendsfiercely,thefewshekept.Beyondthat,she’dhavelitamatchandneverlookedback.OrsoIthought.
We’rebrieflyinterruptedwhenthewaitressfinallymakesittoourtable.Shelooksyoungandflustered,anewhirestrugglingthroughthewaningweeksofthesummercrush.IorderaclubsodaandignoreTrina’sjudgmentaleyebrow.
“Idon’tknow….Thisplaceisadrag,”shesays.“Butit’shome,Iguess.”There’ssomethinginthewayhergazedriftstothesoggycoaster,thewayherfingernailpicksatthecorners,thatsuggestsadeeperexplanation.
“Howarethings?”Iaskcarefully.“LAnotagreeingwithyouthesedays?”
“Eh,youknowme.I’vegotafour-secondattentionspan.IthinkmaybeI’veseenanddoneeverythingworthdoinginthatcity.”
OnlyfromTrinawouldIbelievethat.“Youstillworkingatthedispensary?”TheleastsurprisingpartofherWestCoastmovewasgettingajobdoingstuffthat,aroundhere,stillgetsyouthrowninjail.
“Sometimes.Alsobartendingalittle.AndthisguyIknow,he’saphotographer,Ihelphimoutnowandthen,too.”
“Thisguy…”Iwatchasshedodgeseyecontact.“Isthatathing?”
“Sometimes.”
TheconundrumofTrinaisabitterone.FewothersIknowmanagetosuckasmuchoutofeveryminuteoftheirlivesasshedoes—eyesopenandarmswide,tryanythingonce,twiceasmuch—andyet,atthesametime,besoutterlyunfulfilled.There’saholeinthebottomofhersoul,whereeverythinggoodleaksoutandalltheworst,thickest,blackestmuckclingstothesides.
“He’sanartist,”shesaysbywayofanexplanation.“Hisworkisimportanttohim.”
Whichisthekindofthingpeoplesaywhenthey’remakingexcusesforwhytheirneedsaren’tbeingmet.
“Anyway,Ididn’ttellhimIwascominghere.Probablystillhasn’tnoticedmystuffisgone.”
Awaveofsympathyswellsinmychest.Ifeltlikethatforalongtime.Ikeptgraspingforanythingatalltosatisfyme,whetheritwasgoodformeornot.HowcouldIknowunlessIfoundoutformyself,though?Ittakesalotoftrialanderrortorealizeallthegoodadviceweignoredalongtheway.
Whenourdrinksarrive,shedrainsthelastofherpreviousbeerandgetsastartonthenext.“Enoughchat,”sheannounces,runningahandthroughherhair.She’swearingitshorterthesedays,whichgivesherevenmoreofatoughgirlvibe.“I’mboredwithmyself.”
“Okay.Howshallweentertainourselves?”
“IfIrememberright,youowemearematch.Rack’emup,West.”
Ifollowhertothepooltable,wherewesplittwogamesandcallitadraw.Fromthere,webarhopdowntheboardwalk,withTrinaingestingaquantityofshotsandbeersthatwouldkillamantwicehersize.
It’sarelief,actually.Atasteoftheoldlifewithouttheaccompanyingblackout.Andit’sincrediblethethingsyounoticewhenyou’renotwasted.LiketheguywhohitsonTrinaatthesecondbar.Shethinkshe’stwenty-five,butreally,he’spushingfortywithaspraytan,Botox,andatanlinefromhismissingweddingring.Still,he’sgoodforacoupledrinksbeforesheinstigateshimuptothekaraokemicforshitsandgiggles,asifhe’sherpersonalcourtjester.I’dfeelbadforthedudeifIwasn’tsurethere’sakidathomesomewhere,whosecollegefundwillbealittlelighterafterthismidlifecrisis.
“Hewasnotforty,”sheinsiststooloudlywhenIinformher,aswetrudgedowntheboardwalkinsearchofournextvenue.“Itwasthelighting!”
“Babe,hehadwhitechesthairs.”
Trinashudders,atrembleofrevulsionthatvibratesthrougheachlimb.ShemakesadrygaggingnoisewhileIhowlwithlaughter.
“No,”shemoans.
“Yes,”Iconfirmbetweengiggles.
“Well,wherewereyou?Tellagirlnexttime.Throwupsomehandsignalsorsomething.”
“What’ssignlanguageforpendulous,saggingtesticles?”
Nowwe’rebothdoublingoverinhysterics.
Theboardwalkatnightisadragstripoflightsandmusic.Shopswithneonsignsandbrightwindowdisplays.Peoplepouringoutofbarswiththecompetingsoundtracksminglinginthehumidsaltair.Patiorestaurantsburstingwithtouristsandsouvenircups.Everydozenstepsorso,ayoungguyisbarkingabouttwo-for-onedrinksorfreecover.
“Livemusic,”oneofthemsays,shovinghisarmouttogiveTrinaapalegreenflyerforthemusicvenuearoundthecorner.“Nocoverbeforemidnight.”
“Areyouinaband?”Aflickerofinterestbrightenshereyes.
Trinahasthiswayabouther.Flirtatiousinavaguelythreateningmanner.It’shystericalwhenshe’shadalittletodrink.Whenshe’shadalot,it’snotdissimilartoalitfirecrackerthat’sstalled.Youstandthere.Waiting.Watching.Certainthemomentyoutrytointervene,it’llexplodeandtakeyourfingersandeyebrowswithit.
“Uh,yeah,”hesays,hidinghisfearbehindanalertsmile.Someguyslikethehot,scaryones,andsomehaveasenseofself-preservation.“Iplaybass.”
He’scute,inaDisneyChannelpunkrocksortofway.Thekidwhogrewupwithparentsthatencouragedhiscreativeendeavorsandputoutaplateoffresh-bakedcookieswhilehedidhomework.I’llneverunderstandthewell-adjusted.
“Oh.”Trina’scarnivorousgrinflattenstoagrimace.“Well,noone’sperfect.”
Wetaketheinvitation,nonetheless,ifonlybecauseit’stheclosestrestroomthatdoesn’trequireapurchaseinadvance.Together,TrinaandIstandinlinedownadingyhallwaycoveredinframedconcertphotographsandgraffiti.Itsmellsofcheapliquor,mildew,andperfume-scentedsweat.“Yourealizeyou’veprobablyjinxedthatpoorguy,right?”Itellher.
“Please.”
“Seriously.Youjustputtenyearsofbadmojoonhim.WhatifhewassupposedtobecomethenextgreatAmericanbassist?Nowhe’sgoingtoendupvacuumingbaseboardsattheSpitShinecarwash.”
“Theworldneedsbassplayers,”shesays.“ButIcan’tberesponsiblefortheirmisplacednotionsoffuckability.”
“PaulMcCartneyplayedbass.”
“That’slikesayingSantaisfuckable.That’snasty,Gen.”
Sixwomenstumbleoutofthesingle-toiletrestroom,sloppyandlaughing.TrinaandItakeourturn.ShesplasheswateronherfacewhileIpee.
Afterwe’vebothfinishedupandwashedourhands,Trinapullsasmallcompactoutofherpurse.Underitisalittleplasticbaggieofwhitepowder.Shedipsherfingerintogathersomeinhernailandsnortituphernose.Takesanotheruptheothernostril,thenspreadstheexcessonherteeth,suckingthemdry.
“Wantabump?”Sheoffersthecompacttome.
“I’mgood.”
Cocainewasnevermyvice.Ismokedplentyanddranklikeasailor.Droppedacideverynowandthen.ButIwasnevertemptedbytheharderstuff.
“Oh,comeon.”Shetriesshovingitatme.“Ihaven’tsaidanythingallnight,butyoursobrietyisstartingtobecomeabuzzkill.”
Ishrug.“Ithinkyou’vegotenoughbuzzforbothofus.”
Bigsaucereyespleadwithme.“Justonelittlehit.ThenI’llshutup.”
“Butthenwho’sgoingtostopyoufromgoinghomewithsomemiddle-agedcarsalesman?”
“Youmakeagoodpoint,West.”Backingoff,shesnapsthecompactshutanddropsitinherpurse.
Toeachtheirown.Trinagetsnojudgmentfromme.Weallhaveourcopingmechanisms,andI’minnopositiontofaultanyonefortheirs.Justnotmybag
“Sothisstraight-edgething,”shemusesasweexittherestroomandscoutagoodtablefortheshow.“Youseriousaboutthat?”
Wespotatwo-seaterhigh-topbesidethestageandmakeabeelinetosnagit.
Inodslowly.“Yeah,Ithinkso.”
I’mratherproudofmyself,infact.Awholenighttogether,andI’veyettohoponatableorstealapedicab.I’mstillhavingagoodtime,notoncemissingadrink.That’sprogress.
Liftingaflaskfromherpurse,Trinanods.“Cheerstothat,then.Mayyourliverbringyoumanyyearsofhealthandprosperity.”
Hell,ifTrinacanacceptthenewme,maybethere’shopeyet.MaybeIreallycanmakethischangestick,andI’mnotsimplyfoolingmyself.
Ourpartyswellsduringtheconcert.Agroupoffriendswewenttohighschoolwithwanderbyourtableandpullupafewstools.Some,likeColbyandDebra,Ihadn’tseeninyears.Whenthesecondactofthenightturnsouttobea’90sone-hit-wondercoverband,theentireplacegoesbonkers,everyonesingingslurred,slightlywronglyricsatthetopsofourlungs.We’reallbreathlessandhoarsebythetimeTrinaandtherestofthegroupgooutsidetothesmokingpatio,whileIbabysitherpurseatthebarandorderaverybigglassoficewater.IpulloutmyphonetofindamissedtextfromEvanearlierinthenight.
Evan:Youhaven’taskedforbailyet.Goodsign?
Ihavetoadmit,hewasright.MeetingupwithTrinaturnedouttobeanaffirmingexperience.HardlythecatastropheI’dworkedituptobeinmyhead.ButI’mdefinitelynotgoingtotellhimthat.Evandoesn’tneedanyegostrokingfromme.
Me:We’reon95withaone-eyedbountyhunterandhispetwolverinehotonourtrail.Sendsnacks.
WhenIfeelahandtapmeontheshoulder,I’mimpressedEvanmanagedtotrackusdown.ButthenIturnaroundandammetwiththedark,pleatedpolyesterofasheriff’sdeputyuniformandthepotbellyofRustyRandall.
“GenevieveWest.”Hegrabsmywristandroughlyjerksitbehindmyback.“You’reunderarrest.”
Myjawdrops.“Seriously?Forwhat?”
I’mpulledoffmystool,strugglingtofindmyfeet.Peoplearoundusretreat,sometakingouttheirphonestorecord.Cameraflashesblindmewhilemybrainstutterstounderstandwhat’shappening.
“Possessionofacontrolledsubstance.”Hewrenchesmyotherarmbehindmyback,wheremetalcuffsbiteintomyskin.DeputyRandallgrabsTrina’spurse,pickingthroughit,untilhepullsoutthecompactandopensittorevealthebaggieofcocaine.
“That’snotevenmypurse!”Ishout,myheadspinningwiththeinstincttorunorfightor…something.Ilookdesperatelyatthedoortothesmokingpatio.
Wrappinghishandaroundmybiceps,heleansclosetomyearandwhispers,“Should’velefttownwhileyouhadthechance.”CHAPTER28
GENEVIEVE
Outside,I’mpushedupagainstthesideofRandall’scar,myfacetothewindow,whileherunshisfat,sweatyhandsdownmyarms,ribs,andlegs.
“You’rejustlovingthis,”Isaythroughgrittedteeth.“Pervert.”
Hetakesmyphone,keys,andIDfrommypocketsandthrowsthemontheroofofthecarwithTrina’spurse.“Knowwhatyourproblemis,Genevieve?Youdon’tappreciatediscretion.”
“Thehelldoesthatmean?”
“Itwasonlyamatteroftimebeforeyouscrewedupagain.”HisfingerscombthroughmyhairasthoughI’vegotsomeneedlesandmaybeabowieknifestashedinthere.“Itoldyou,I’vegoteyeseverywhere.”
“Thenyoursnitchesareevendumberthanyouare.”
Hechucklescruelly.“Yetyou’retheoneincuffs.”
Ashefinishespattingmedown,I’mtryingtofigureouthowsomeonewouldhaveknownaboutthecoke.ThepersonTrinaboughtitfromintown?Aluckyguess?Eitheroptionfeelsequallyunlikely.Butthen,whoknowstheshadydealsRandall’scut?Themanisascorruptastheycome.
Itoccurstome,then,thatatanypointinthenightwhenTrinaandIwereseparated—whileoneofuswenttothebarforanotherroundortotherestroomalone—shemighthavedoneabumpinfrontofanynumberofwitnesses.Itonlytakesoneofthemtohaveseenustogether.
HegrabsaplasticbagfromthetrunkofhiscruiserandthrowsmystuffandTrina’spurseinside.Then,withasickgrin,heopensthereardoorandpushesmyheaddowntoshovemeintothebackseat.
“Sorryaboutthesmell,”hechirps.“Haven’thadachancetocleanitoutafterthelastguythrewup.”
AslongasIlive,I’llrememberhissadisticsmileasheslamsthedoorshut.Andifit’sthelastthingIdo,I’llgettowipeitoffhissmugface.
Atthesheriff’soffice,Isitinaplasticchairagainstawalldownanarrowhallwaywiththedrunkanddisorderlies,prostitutes,andotherpissedoffvictimsoftonight’sdragnet.
“Hey!”Thefratboywithabloodynoseattheendoftherowshoutsatapassingdeputy.“Hey!Yougetmydadonthephone.Hearme?Mydad’sgonnakickyourass.”
“Man,shutup.”Afewchairsdown,thetowniewithablackeyestaresupattheceiling.“Noonecaresaboutyourstupiddaddy.”
“You’resodead.Everyoneofyouidiotsaresodead.”Thefratboyrattlesaroundinhischair,andIrealizetheyhavehimcuffedtoit.“Whenmydadgetsdownhere,you’llallbesorry.”
“Dude,”thetowniesays.“I’malreadysorrynow.IfIhavetokeeplisteningtothispussywhine,someonejusthandmeagun.I’llpistol-whipmyself.”
I’mtired,hungry,andI’vehadtopeesincethemomentRandalltossedmeinthecruiser.Myfootbounceswiththeanxietyofwaiting.Mymindrunsamileaminute,picturingTrinawalkinginsidetofindmeandherpursegone,andwonderingifshe’sfiguredoutwhat’shappened.Iponderthechancesshe’llhavegottenintouchwithmydadoroneofmybrothers,consideringherphoneislikelysittinginanevidencelockerrightnow.ThenIrealize,ifshehasfigureditout,she’snotcomingbackforme.She’sgettingthehelloutofthestatebeforethecopspullherdriver’slicenseoutofthatpurseandgolookingforhertoo.
“You’redoingfine.”ThewomaninasequintanktopandminiskirthasanalmostZen-likequalityaboutherasshesitsbesideme,utterlyrelaxed.“Don’tworry.It’snotasscaryasitlooksonTV.”
“Whendowegettocallsomeone?Wegetaphonecall,right?”Ironically,asmanytimesasI’vegottenmyselfinandoutoftrouble,I’veneversatinthispolicestationbefore.Givenmypreviouslifestyle,Iprobablyshouldhavemadeagreaterefforttounderstandthefinerdetailsofthecriminaljusticesystem.
Inresponse,thewomantiltsherheadbackandcloseshereyes.“Getcomfortable,sweetie.Thiscouldtakeawhile.”
“Awhile”isanunderstatement.Ittakesmorethananhourjusttogetfingerprinted.Anotherhourforphotographs.Anotherhourofwaitingsomemore.Itfeelslikeeverydeputyinthestationcomesbytoleeratme,eachonewithalookofamusementorsmugsatisfaction.Irecognizesomeofthemwho’dwaggedtheirfingersandsneeredatmewhenIwasinhighschool.Theyleavemewithavisceralsenseofthepowerlessnessofincarceration,andI’monlysittinginawell-lithallway.Withinthesewalls,theyhaveallthepowerandwehavenone.We’reguiltydegeneratesbecausetheysayso.Unworthyofrespectorbasichumandecency.It’senoughtoradicalizeeventhesoftestsuburbanite.
There’sanotherhourofpaperworkandmoresittingaroundbeforewe’refinallyplacedinholdingcells.Menandwomenseparated.MywristsaresoreandbruisedwhenItakeaseatonabenchbesideasleepinghomelesswoman.Inthecorner,ablondetourist,probablyaboutmyage,criessilentlyintoherhands,whileherfriendsitsbesideherlookingbored.Themetaltoilet-sinkcomboonthefarwallsmellslikeeverybarbathroomintheBayflushesintoit,curingmeofanythoughtsofhavingtogo.
Sometimeinthemiddleofthenight,mynamesnapsmeoutofmymeditationonthestainsonthefloor.
Iglancetowardtheironbarsandalmostburstintotears.It’sHarrison.Inuniform.
Becausethisnighthasn’tbeenmortifyingenough.
Reluctantly,Igomeethimatthefrontofthecell.“Thisisfitting,huh?Likeablinddategameshowreveal.”
“IheardyouwerehereandcameassoonasIcould.”Thepoorguyappearsgenuineinhisconcern.“Youalright?Anyonemistreatingyou?”
Idon’tknowifhe’saskingaboutthepeopleinsidethiscellorout.“I’mfine,giventhecircumstances.”Ismilewryly.“Don’tsupposeyouwanttoaccidentallydropakeyandwalkaway.”
“Okay,”hesays,hisvoiceloweringtoastagewhisper.“ButyouneedtomakeitlookconvincingsoIcantellthemyouoverpoweredmewhenItriedtostopyou.”
“Seriously,though.Howdoesthiswork?Ihavemoney.Ifyoucanpostmybailorwhatever,I’llpayyouback.Theyhaven’tevenletmecallsomeoneyet.”
Helooksawaywithasighoffrustration.“Thesheriff’soutoftownatsomefamilything,sonoone’sinabighurrytopushpapers.”
MeaninganyhopeIhadthatSheriffNixonmightrealizeI’minhere,andatleastletmydadknow,isrightoutthewindow.Itwasn’tasurething,butHalNixonandDadplayinamonthlypokergameandhavegottenchummyoverthepastcoupleyears.Ithoughtmaybe,ifIwasextremelylucky,Nixonwouldletmepleadmycasethatthiswholethingisamisunderstandingblownsidewaysbyavindictiveasshole.
“Can’tpostbailuntiltheyfilethearrest,”Harrisoncontinues.“Idon’tknowwhattheholdupisonphonecalls.I’llseeaboutthat.”
“Ididn’tdoit.”Ilookhimsquareintheeye.“ThisisRandallagain.Yousawhim.He’sgotavendetta.”
“We’llgetthisstraightenedout.”Conflictandindecisioncontorthisface.
NotthatI’mfeelingespeciallymagnanimous,givenmycurrentsituation,butI’vehadsometimefordeepcontemplationlately,andIcanappreciatethatthefragileworldviewofarookiecopisperhapsabitshakenwhenconfrontedwithsuchblatantshitfuckery.Thesearehispeople,afterall.
Mytonesoftens.“Itwassweetofyoutocheckonme.EvenifitwasjusttoconfirmI’mstuckhere.”
Histenseposturerelaxes.“I’msorry.Ifeellikethere’smoreIshoulddo,butIreallydon’tholdalotofcardshere.”
“Tellyouwhat,”Isay,stickingmyhandthroughthebarstoholdhis.“Whentheygivemethechair,Iwantyoutobetheonetothrowtheswitch.”
“Jesus.”Harrisoncoughsoutadisturbedlaugh.“You’resomethingelse.”
WhichisanicewayofsayingI’mbetterinsmalldoses.“Yeah.Igetthatalot.”
“I’mgoingtoseewhatIcanfindout.I’lltrytomakeitbackifIcan.Youwantmetocallanyoneforyou?”
Ishakemyhead.AsmuchasIwantoutofhere,it’llbeworseifDadgetsthecallfromHarrisoninsteadofme.Besides,I’vejustgottenusedtothesmellinhere.
“Goon,Deputy.Getoutofhere.”
Withalastregretfulnod,hewalksaway.
Harrisonneverdoesfindhiswayback.Instead,it’sasleeplessnightandanimpatientmorningbeforeI’mallowedtomakeaphonecall.
“Dad…”TheembarrassmentIfeelwhenheanswers,knowingwhatIhavetosaytohim—I’vehadallnighttoagonizeoverit,andit’sstillworsethanIanticipated.“Listen,I’matthesheriff’soffice.”
“Areyouokay?Whathappened?”Dad’sconcernripplesovertheline.
Ihatethis.Standingataphoneonthewallwithalinebehindme,Ietchnervouspatternsintothechippingpaintwithmythumbnail.MystomachchurnsqueasilyasIforcemyselftosaythewords.
“Iwasarrested.”
He’squietwhileIrushtoexplain.Thatthepursewasn’tmine.ThatRandall’sgotitoutforme.AndthemoreItalk,theangrierIget.AllofthisstartedwhenIwouldn’tacceptthesexualadvancesofamarriedmanwithabadge.Forsolong,Ifeltguiltyforwreckingthatfamilywithmydrunkenintrusion,butithitsmenowthatIdidn’tdothattohim.Hedid.Hesetthisentireyear-longchainofeventsinmotionbecausehe’sasick,pettyperson.IshouldhavekickedhiminthescrotumwhenIhadthechance.
“Iswear,Dad.Itwasn’tmine.I’lltakeadrugtest.Anything.”Myheartclenchestightagainstmyribcage.“Ipromiseyou.Thisisn’tlikebefore.”
There’salongsilenceafterI’vestoppedtalking,duringwhichIstarttopanic.Whatifhe’shaditwithmyshit,andthisisonetimetoomany?Whatifheleavesmeinheretolearnalessonheshouldhavetaughtmealongtimeago?Givesuponhisworthless,waywarddaughterwhowasgoingtorunoutonhimandthefamilybusinessanyway.
“Yousureyou’reokay?”heasksgruffly.
“Yeah,I’mokay.”
“Alright,good.Hangtight,kiddo.I’monmyway.”
It’sonlyminutesbeforeadeputycallsmynameandopensthecell.Asheescortsmefromtheholdingareaandthroughthebullpenofdesks,I’mrelievedthatRandallisn’tskulkingaroundsomewherewaitingforme.Afterourfirstrun-inwhenIreturnedtotheBay,Iunderstoodthathehadanaxtogrind.WhenheshoweduptohassleHarrisonandIafterourdate,Ipreparedmyselfthathewouldbecomeaperpetualannoyance.Butthiswasadrasticescalation.Andwhoknowswhatelseisinstoreforme?Thistime,hethrowsmebehindbars.Nexttime,maybeheisn’tsatisfiedwithconventionalmeansofretribution.I’dhatetoseewhathappenswhenhedecidestobecreative.
Thedeputyopensanofficedoorandpointsmeinside,wherethesheriffissittinginapoloshirtbehindhisdesk.Myfatherstandsfromhischairandgivesmeatightnod.
“Good?”hesays.
“Fine.”AsfineasIcanbe,anyway.WhenInoticethepaperbagandcupofcoffeesittingonthecornerofthedesk,Iquirkabrow.“Thatforme?”
“Yeah,Ibroughtyousomething,”Dadsays.“Figuredyoumightbehungry.”
Itearintothebagandpracticallyinhalethetwogreasysausage-and-eggsandwiches.Idon’ttasteanyofitwhenIwashitdownwithhotblackcoffee,butIfeelbetterimmediately.Theexhaustedhazehasbeenchasedaway,mybellynolongerfightingitself.ThoughnowIreallyneedtopee.
“Letmesay,”SheriffNixonspeaksup,“I’msorryaboutthiswholemix-up.”
That’sastart.
“Ihadalookatthepurse,”hecontinues.“TheID,creditcards,andotherpersonalitemsclearlyallbelongtoayoungladynamedKatrinaChetnik.”
Ilooktomyfather.“That’swhatItriedtotellhim.”
Dadnods,thennarrowshiseyesatthemanbehindthedesk.“Sittingnexttoapurseatacrowdedbarain’tacrime.Correct?”
“No,itisn’t.”Tothesheriff’scredit,helooksirritatedwiththewholescenariotoo.AnnoyedtohavebeendraggeddownhereonaSundaytoclearthismessup.“We’llmakeanefforttolocatetheowner.”
MeaningTrina’sproblemsarejustbeginning.ButIcan’tsayIcaremuchaboutthat.Afterspendinganightinjail,I’mnotabouttoruninterferenceforher.Sheknewtherisks.Inhindsight,itwasshittyofhertoleavemesittingtherewithhercokeinthefirstplace.
There’sasharpknockonthedoor.Amomentlater,RustyRandallenters.Apparentlycalledinfromhome,he’sdressedinaT-shirtandjeans,andIdotakesomesmalljoyintheideahewaswokenbyanurgentcalltellinghimthebosssaidgetyourassdownhere
Randallappraisesme,thenmyfather.Nothingaboutthesceneappearstojostlehimintheslightest.Withhishandsonhiships,hestandsinthecenteroftheroom.“Youneededtoseeme,sir?”
“Rusty,we’llbesendingMs.Westhomewithoursincereapologiesforhertrouble.Youcantakecareofthepaperwork.I’llwanttoseeareportonmydeskbyEOB.”
“Fine,”hesays,voicetight.
“Anythingyou’dliketosay?”thesheriffprompts,cockinghishead.
Randalldoesn’tsomuchasblinkinmydirection.“Iactedonprobablecauseforthearrest.Myactionswereentirelyappropriate.Ofcourse,Irespectyourdecision,andwillhandlethatpaperworkatonce.”
Coward.
Butwebothknowhe’dsoonerwaxhislegsthanapologizeoradmithewaswrong.Doesn’tmakemuchdifferencetome,though,becauseIcouldn’tcarelesswhatthatmanthinks.
“Ronan,”SheriffNixonsays,“goandgetherhome.AndMs.West…”Heregardsmeforamoment.“Idon’timagineI’llseeyouinhereagain.”
I’mnotsurehowmuchIshouldreadintohisremark.Whetherhemeanshe’llseetoittherearen’tanyfurtherdirtyarrests,orthatheexpectsI’vebeenscaredstraight.Eitherway,no,Idon’tbelievewe’llbeseeingmuchmoreofeachother.NotifIcanhelpit.
“Notachance,”Iagree.
Despitehavingmynamecleared,theridehomeonlyexacerbatesmyshame.Imighthavebeenwrongfullyarrested,butmydadstillhadtocallthesherifffirstthinginthemorningtogethisonlydaughteroutofjail.Itwashumiliatingforme,soIsuspectitwasnopicnicforhim,either.
“I’msorry,”Isay,cautiouslystudyinghisprofile.
Hedoesn’trespond,intensifyingmyguilt.
“IgetthatwhatIdoreflectsonyouandthebusiness.Andeventhoughthedrugsweren’tmine,andIwasn’tusing,Istillplacedmyselfinthatsituation.IknewTrinahadthecokeandIshouldhavewalkedaway.’Causelet’sbehonest,acoupleyearsago,itwouldn’thavebeenunheardofthatthepursewouldhavebeenmine.”
“Firstofall,”hesays.“I’mnotmad.”
Hewatchestheroadashisjawworks,likehe’stryingtoarrangehisthoughts.
“Sure,you’vemadesomemistakes.Acoupleyearsisalongtime,though,andyou’renotthatgirlanymore.”Hisvoicesoftens.“I’dhavegonedowntherenomatterwhatyoutoldme.You’remydaughter,Genevieve.”Dadglancesatme.“Butlet’sbeclear.Ihadnodoubtyouweretellingthetruth.Don’tthinkIhaven’tnoticedthechangesyou’vemade.Theymatter.”
Emotionclogsmythroat.ItsuddenlyoccurstomethatI’vespentsomuchtimetryingtoconvincemyselfIwasforreal,Imissedwhenotherpeoplestartedtobelieveit.Mydad.Myfriends.Evan.
Ispeakthroughthelumpthreateningtochokeme.“Ididn’twantyoutothinkthiswasmeactingoutorbacksliding.ThatbecauseofMomorwhatever…”Thethoughtdiesonmytongue.Hedoesn’tacknowledgethementionofher,whichIimmediatelyregret.“Butthat’snotthecaseatall.I’mtryingsohardtobeabetterperson,totakemyselfmoreseriouslyandhaveothersdothesame.Iwouldneverjeopardizethat,especiallynowthatI’vegotanewjobstartingsoon.”
Dadnodsslowly.“Right.Idon’tknowifIsaidthiswhenyoutoldmeaboutthehotel,but…I’mproudofyou,kiddo.Thiscouldendupbeingabigcareerforyou.”
“That’stheplan.”Igivehimafaintsmile.“Andno,youdidn’tsayanythingaboutbeingproud.IfIrecallcorrectly,yousaid‘congratulations’andthenkindofgrumbledabouthowShanewillmakeaterribleofficemanager.”
Hechucklessheepishly.“Idon’tlikechange.”
“Whodoes?”Ishrug,adding,“Don’tworry,we’renotgoingtoletShaneanywherenearthatoffice.IalreadypromisedI’llhelpyouinterviewcandidates.We’llfindanevenbetterofficemanagerthanme.”
“Doubtit,”Dadsaysgruffly,anddamnedifthatdoesn’tmakemyheartexpandwithpride.Mythroatclosesupalittletoo.
“Hey,atleastmyreplacementwon’thavearapsheet,”Isaytolightenthemood.
“What’sthedealwithRusty,anyway?”myfatherasks,glancingoversuspiciously.“Hehaveitoutforyouforsomereason?”
Sighing,Itellhimthetruth.Mostofit,anyway;therearestillsomethingsIwon’trepeatinfrontofmyfather.Buthegetsthegist.HowRandallaccostedmeinthebar.Howangerandtoomuchtodrinkdrovemeintohislivingroomtotraumatizehisfamily.Thethreatsandrun-inssincethen.
“Heblamesmefordestroyinghisfamily,”Iadmit.“Tosomeextent,Ididtoo.”
“Thatmandidittohimself.”Dad’sfeaturesarecoldandunforgiving.Randall’snotgoingtowanttobumpintohiminadarkalleyanytimesoon.
Werideinsilenceforawhile.Idon’tinterruptwhatfeelslikehisattempttoprocessalltheinformationIjustgavehim.AtwhichpointIrealizewe’retakingthelongwayhome.Mypalmsgodamp.Iguessthisisthetalkwe’vebeenputtingoffsinceIreturnedhome.
“You’rethemostlikeyourmother,”hesayssuddenly.Hiseyesremainsquarelyontheroad.“Iknowyoutwodidn’tgetalong.ButIswearyou’rethespittingimageofherwhenshewasyounger.Shewasawildthing,backthen.”
Isettlebackinmyseat,staringoutthewindowatthelittlepassinghouses.Flickering,blurryimagesofmymothercometomind.Theygetfuzzierwitheverypassingday,thedetailsfading.
“Havingafamilychangedher.IthinkIchangedherfirst,ifI’mhonest.I’vebeenwonderingalotlately,youknow,ifIbrokeherspirit—wantingtohaveabigfamily.”
Mygazefliestohis.“Idon’tunderstand.”
“Shewasthisenergetic,livelywomanwhenImether.Andlittlebylittle,shedimmed.Idon’tevenknowhowmuchshenoticeduntilthelightwasallbutgone.”
“Ialwaysfigureditwasus.”Myvoicecracksslightly.“Iassumedshedidn’tlikeus,thatmaybewedidn’tturnoutthewayshehoped.”
Dadtakesadeepbreath,whichheexpelsinagust.“YourmomsufferedaroughboutofpostpartumdepressionafterKellan.ThenwefoundoutshewaspregnantwithShane,andthatseemedtohelpsome.Foralittlewhile.Truthis,Idon’tknowifshewantedsomanykidsbecauseIdid,orifshehopedthenextonemightsnapheroutofit.Thenextonewouldcomealongandfixher.”Heglancesatme,fullofremorseandsadness.“WhenshehadCraig,somethingchanged.Thedepressiondidn’tcome.Whateverhormonesorchemicalsaresupposedtokickinthathelpwomenbondwiththeinfant—well,itfinallyhappened.Andthatonlymadeherfeelguiltier.She’dtriedsodamnhardtobondwiththerestofyouandwasconstantlyfightingthedepression,thedarkthoughts,andthenwithCraigitwassuddenlyeasy,and—”
Heexhalesaraggedbreath,gazestillfixedontheroadahead.Bythetimehespeaksagain,I’mholdingmybreath.Onpinsandneedles.
“Christ,Gen,youhavenoideahowmuchitrippedherapart,havingthateasyrelationshipwithhimwhenherrelationshipswiththerestofyouweresodifficult.Hergreatestfearwasbeingabadmom,anditcrippledher.Shecouldn’tgetpasttheideashewasscrewingyoukidsup.Idon’tknoweverythingthatwentoninLaurie’shead,butyou’vegottounderstanditwasn’therfault.Whateveritis,youknow.Thechemicalsinherbrainorwhatever.Shehatedherselfthemost.”
Myeyesfeelhot,stinging.Ineverthoughtaboutitthatway.Itwasn’tsomethingwetalkedaboutinourfamily.Itfeltlikeshehatedus,sothatwasthetruthwebelieved.OrIdid,atleast.Notoncediditoccurtomeitwasanillness,somethingshewasincapableofcontrollingandevenashamedof.Itmusthavefeltsomucheasierforhertostoptrying,tobackawayfromthefearofbreakingherkids.But,God,howmuchweallsufferedforit.
Nothingchangesourchildhood,theyearslostwithoutamother.Thepainandtormentofgrowingupbelievingthattheactofbeingborn,adecisionwehadnopartin,wasthereasonshehatedus.ButDad’spainedconfession,thisnew,sadpieceofknowledge,changesalotofhowIfeelabouthernow.HowIlookbackonher.
AndhowIlookatmyself.CHAPTER29
EVAN
There’ssomethingintheair.I’vegotacrewatastorm-damagedhousewe’rerenovatingforaflipper,andsincelunch,theguyshavebeenactingweird.Ikeepcatchingfurtiveglancesandwhisperedconversations.PeoplegoingsilentwhenIwalkintoaroom,yetfeelingtheireyes,everywhere,watchingme.It’screepyiswhatitis.Thescenebeforethepodpeopleturninunisonanddescendtoassimilatetheirhaplesstarget.SweartoGod,ifanythingtriestoprobemeorvomitdownmythroat,I’mswingingasledgehammerandaimingfornutsacks.
Inthesecond-floormasterbath,Icatchmyshiftchief,Alex,hunchedoveraphonewiththeguywho’ssupposedtobeinstallingthenewtub.
“Grady,I’mprettysureyoubilledusforsomethinglikethirtyhoursofovertimeonthatPoppyHilljob,”Isayloudly,andthetubguystartlesanddropshisphoneintohispocket.“HowdoyoufigureLevi’sgonnareactwhenItellhimyou’reupherestandingaroundonyourphonewithyourdickinyourhand?”
“Igotyou,boss.Noproblems.Gonnahaveallthis…”Gradygesturesatthetub,sink,andtoiletlefttoinstall.“Gonnagetitwrappedbytoday.Don’tworry.”
Amazinghowagreeablepeoplebecomewhenyournameisontheirpaychecks.
Tomyshiftchief,ayoungguyIvouchedfortogetthisjob,Igiveanodtofollowmedownthehall.AlexandIstepintooneoftheemptybedrooms,whereInarrowmyeyes.“Whatthehellisgoingonwitheveryonetoday?”
Hehesitatestoanswer,takingoffhisbaseballcaptoscratchhisheadandthenadjustandreadjustit,hopingperhapsImightforgetmyquestioninthemeantime.Itsetsmyteethonedge.
“Whatisit,forchrissake?”Idemand.
“Yeah,um,so…”Oh,fortheloveofGod.“Well,wordisGenevievegotarrested.Forlikecocaineorsomething.”
“What?”Acoldtiderushesthroughmylimbs.“When?”
“Lastnight.Imean,therumorisshewascaughtmovingakiloofcoketoanundercoveragentontheboardwalk,butthat’sjusttalk.ThewayIhearditfrommycousinwhowasworkingbarbacklastnight,somecopcameinandfounddrugsinherpurse,onlyshewastellinghimitwasn’therpurse.Anyway,thatgirlTrinawaslookingforheralittlewhileafterthat.”
Damnit.
“Weweren’tsureyouheard,”Alexcontinues.“Sotheguys—”
“Yeah,fine.”Iwavehimoff.“Justgetbacktowork.Andtellthemtoputtheirdamnphonesaway.Nobody’sgettingovertimeforscrewingaround.”
Trina.
Ofcourse.
Ishouldhaveseenthiscoming.Iknowaswellasanyonetheshitthatgirlgetsupto.Angerburnsmythroat,mostofitself-directed.WhatpartofdrivingGentowardherdidIthinkwouldendanyotherway?EspeciallywithDeputyRandallskulkingaroundtryingtopinsomethingonGen.IfI’dgivenevenasinglethoughttoGenevieve’sbestinterestinsteadofmyown,Iwould’veseenthiscoming.
Fuck.
Nowondersheranawayfromme.Thisturnofeventswassopredictable,Gentriedeverythingshortofbeatingmebackwithabaseballbattokeepmeawayfromher.Andasitturnsout,withallmyeffortstoproveshewasoverreactingandthatnothingbadwouldcomeofusbeingtogether,IprovedherrightthefirstchanceIgot.Iwassowrappedupinpleadingmycase,changinghermind,thatIdidn’tgiveasinglethoughttotherepercussionsifitwentbadly.
Whatkindofassholeissodamnselfish?
Thisisn’taminorconsequenceeither.Genwascuffed.Probablyperpwalkedoutofthebarinfrontofhalfthetownandahundredtourists.Paradedthroughthepolicestationanddegradedbythesamejerkswho’vebeentellinghershewasnogoodherwholelife.Shemusthavebeentearingoutofherskin.
AndIputherthere.
IspentallthistimetryingtoconvinceherthatI’dbegoodforherandmakeherlifebetter.Whatagoddamnjoke.
It’shoursbeforeIcanleavethejobsitetoseeGen.ThroughoutthedayIagonizedoverwhethertocallher,buteventuallydecidedhavingthisconversationoverthephonewasmoreinsultingthanwaitingtodoitinperson.OrmaybeI’macowardwhohopedthedelaywouldhelpmefigureoutwhattosaytoher.
AsI’mpullinguptoherhouse,I’mstillataloss.
Gen’slittlebrotherCraiganswersthedoor.Withaknowinglookthatsaysgoodluck,henodsupstairs.
“She’sinherroom.”
Iknockacoupletimes,thenletmyselfinwhenthere’snoanswer.Gen’sasleeponherbedinpajamasandabathrobe,hairstillwet.Thelargestpartofmewantstoleave.Lethersleep.ThelongerIcanputthisoff,themoretimeIhavetocomeupwithsomethingsufficienttosay.Butthensheopenshereyestofindmestandinginthedoorway.
“Sorry,”shesaysdrowsily,gatheringherselftositupagainstherheadboard.“Ididn’tgetmuchsleepintheclink.”
“Icango.Comebacklater.”
“No.Stay.”Shedrawsherkneesuptomakeroomforme.“Itakeitthewholetownknowsbynow?”
Shedoesn’tlooksobad,allthingsconsidered.Abitgroggyandpalefromexhaustion,butotherwiseunscathed.Itdoesn’thelpthelumpofguiltstuckinmythroat,though.
“Youokay?Hetryanythingwithyou?”BecausethrowingaMolotovcocktailthroughRandall’sbedroomwindowmightgoalongwaytoimprovingmymood.
Sheshakesherhead.“Itwasfine.NotmuchworsethantheDMV,honestly.”
“That’swhatyou’vegot?Anightintheslammerandyou’redoing’90ssitcomhumor?”
Aweaksmilecurvesherlips.Itbreaksmyfuckingheart.“I’mthinkingabouttouringtheprisoncircuitwithsomenewmaterial.”
“HaveyouheardfromTrina?”
“Nope.”Genshrugs.“Iwishherwell.Ifshe’ssmart,she’swellintoMexicobynow.”
WhenIopenmymouthtospeakagain,shecutsmeoff.
“Canwenottalkaboutit?Later,fine.Rightnow,Idon’twanttothinkaboutitanymore.It’sbeenalongday.”
“Yeah,ofcourse.”
Takingmyhand,shepullsmetositbesideheragainsttheheadboard.“Hey,Ineversaidthis,butthehouselooksgreat.Youguysdidastellarjobontherenovations.I’malmostsadit’sover.”
“Iamgonnamissyouwanderingaroundthehouseinskimpysilknighties,watchingmeworkupasweat.”
Gensnorts.“Youhaveanactiveimagination.”
“Oh,wereyounotthereforthat?Musthavebeensomeotherleggybrunettewithnicetits.”
Herelbowjabsmyribs.“Imeantnowthatit’sover,Dad’sgoingtoputthehouseonthemarket.Thiswon’tbemyroomformuchlonger.Andtheplaceissonicenow,it’sashametoleave.”
“Alotofgoodmemoriesinthisroom.”Climbinginherwindowaftereveryone’sgonetobed.Sneakingheroutofit.
“KellanandShanetriedsmokingsomeoldpottheyfoundhiddenunderthefloorboardsinShane’scloset.”Thistimewhenshelaughs,itreacheshereyes.Thesoundiscomfortinganddebilitatingallatonce.“Theywerethrowingupforhours.Shanesworehewasgoingblind.”
Iwanttolaughwithherandreminisceaboutallthestuffwegotawaywithinthishouse.Everytimeweheldourbreathunderthecovershavingsexwhileherentirefamilysleptafewfeetaway.Constantlyinfearformylifethatoneofherbrotherswouldbargeinandbreakmydickoffifhefoundmeontopofher.
ButallIcanthinkaboutisthatifcircumstancesweredifferent,shemight’vebeenfacingseriousjailtimebecauseofme.
Onlynowdoesitoccurtomethatsomeofthosememories—runningfromcopsorwhoeverwepissedoffthatnight,stumblingindrunkatfifteen,gettinghighandblowingoffclass—aren’tascuteastheyseemedinhighschool.
“Dadwantsmetolookathouseswithhim.WithMomgone,he’sfeelingalittleoverwhelmedwiththedecisions.”
Thewordsbarelyreachmyears.Athoughtspiraldropslikeaheavyblanketontopofme,mymindweightedwithallthewaysIhaven’tconceivedofyetthatI’llruinthisgirl.Shewashappywhenshecameback.Maybenotrightaway,thankstothefuneralandeverything.ButwhenIcomparethepersonwhoshowedupatthatfirstbonfiretothepersonsittingnexttomenow?Shelooksburntout.Driedup.AcouplemonthsaroundmeandI’vealreadysuckedthelifeoutofher.
AndnomatterwhatIdotothinkmywayoutofthis,Icomebacktooneundeniableconclusion:Ididthistoher.Andifgiventhechance,I’lldoitagain.
“Actually,acoupledaysagoIdrovebyahouseonMallard.Thatblueonewiththepalms.It’sanewerhome.Ilookeditupon—”
“Gen.”Ilaunchtomyfeet.“Look,youwereright.”
“Huh?”
Agitatednow,Ipacetheroom.HowdoIdothis?Idon’twanttocomeoffasanasshole,butmaybeit’swelltoolateforthat.
“Evan?”Hervoicerippleswithworry.
“Ishouldhavelistenedtoyou.”
Fuck,whydidn’tIlisten?Shegavemeadozenopportunitiestorespectherwishesandkeepmydistance.Iignoredeveryoneofherwarningsandwentstraightoffacliff.Slowly,Iturntofaceher,alltheguiltandregretbubblingupandspillingover.Whatdidsheeverdotodeserveme?
“I’msorry,Fred.”
Alarmgrowsinherexpression.“Aboutwhat?”
“Youwereright.Thiscan’twork.Youandme.”
“Evan.”Awarylookofdisbeliefsucksthecolorfromherface.“Thisisbecauseoflastnight?Youdidn’tputthecokeinTrina’spurse.Youdidn’tsicRandallonme.Noneofthatisyourfault.”
“ButItalkedyouintogoing.That’sonme.”Myvoicerisesofitsownvolition.ItfeelslikeIdon’thavecontrolofmyownmind.Thefrustrationrunningawaywithme.TheangeratmyselfthatIletthishappen.“I’mnogoodforyou.I’msorryittookmesolongtofigurethatout.”Iswallow.Ithurtstodoso.“Youneedtostaythehellawayfromme.”
“Youdon’tmeanthat.”Genjumpsoffthebed.“Igetthatyoufeelresponsible,butitwasnotyourfault.”
“Don’tdothat.”Ipullmyselfawaywhenshereachesformyarm.“You’vebeenmakingexcusesformemywholelife.”
Sherollsherheadinfrustration,huffingoutabreath.“That’snotwhatI’mdoing.IwasonlynervousaboutgoingoutwithTrinabecauseIdidn’tthinkIcouldresistgettingtrashedaroundher.Youhadmorefaithinme,andyouwereright.Ididn’tdrinkatalllastnight.Sheofferedmesomeofhercoke,andIdidn’ttakeit.Therestofthenightwasmychoice.Istuckaround.Iletherleaveherpursewithme.AtanypointIcouldhavesaidnoandgonehome.”Fightflashesacrossherface.“You’vebeentakingbulletsformemywholelife.ButI’mallgrownupnow,Evan.Idon’tneedamartyr.”
Iappreciatewhatshe’stryingtodo,butIcan’tlether.Thisishowhabitsstart.Sheforgivesmethistime,andthenext.Andthenext.Untilinchbyinch,shebackslidesintoalltheself-destructivepatternsshe’sworkedsohardtobreak.Shealwayswasthebestpartofus.
Iloveher.I’dratherneverseeheragainthanbethereasonshehatesherself.
“Youshouldstickitoutwithyourcop,”Itellher,myvoicecrackingslightlybeforehardeningwithresolve.“He’sadecentguy,andhe’llbendoverbackwardtomakeyouhappy.BetterinfluencethanI’lleverbe.”
“Evan.”
Iwatchtherealizationcementinhereyes.Watchasshegraspsforsomelevertopulltomakethisstop.ThenIturnmybackonher.
“Evan!”
I’moutthedooranddownthestairs.Practicallyrunningtomybike.IhavetogetoutofherebeforeIlosemynerve.Iknowshe’slookingatmefromherbedroomwindowwhenIspeedawayfromthecurb.TheachebeginsbeforeI’vereachedtheendoftheblock.BythetimeIgethome,Ican’tfeelanything.NotsureI’mevenawake.
It’sdarkwhenItakeaseatonthebackdecklater.Cloudsblockthestarsandmaketheskyfeelsmallandtooclose.Thecricketsongsandkatydidsroarinsidemyskull.Thisisshellshock.I’mnotfullypresentintheaftermath.
Acoldbeerlandsinmylap.Besideme,Cooperpullsupachair.
“YoucheckonGenevieve?”heasks.
Itwistopenmybeerandtakeaswig.Idon’ttasteathing.“ThinkIbrokeupwithher,”Imumble.
Hestaresatthesideofmyface.“Youokay?”
“Sure.”
TurnsoutIcould’vesavedeveryoneallsortsofgriefifI’dlistenedtobothofthem.Coopdoesn’tknowhisheadfromhisassholewhereGenisconcerned,butasmuchasIhatehissecond-guessing,hedoesknowme.
“I’msorry,”hetellsme.
“She’snotabadgirl.”Peoplehavealwaysgivenherahardtimeforthecrimeoftryingtoenjoyherlife.Maybeit’sbecauseherlustforitsparkedenvy,longing.Mostpeoplearetooafraidtotrulyexperiencetheirlives.They’repassengersorpassiveobserverstoaworldhappeningaroundthem.ButnotGen.
“Iknow,”Coopsays.
Whensheleftayearago,itneverreallyended.Nothingwassaid.Shewasgone,butweremainedfrozeninplace.Evenafterit’dbeenmonthsandeveryonetoldmetotakethehint,Icouldn’tletgoofwherewe’dleftoff.Itwasonlyeveramatteroftimebeforeshecamehomeandwepickedupagain.Exceptitdidn’thappenthatway.Shechanged.AndthoughIhadn’tnoticed,sodidI.Wetriedtoshoveourselvesbacktogether,fillinthesameblankspaces,butwedon’tfitthesamewayweusedto.
“Youloveher?”
Mythroatclosesuptothepointofsuffocation.“Morethananythingintheworld.”
She’stheone.Theonlyone.Butit’snotenough.
Cooperletsoutabreath.“Iamsorry.WhatevermybeefiswithGen,you’remybrother.Idon’tlikeseeingyouhurting.”
HeandIhavebeenthroughalotwitheachotherthispastyear.Findingonereasonoranothertobeatodds.It’sexhausting,honestly.Andlonely.Nightslikethisremindmethatwhateverelsehappens,it’sjustthetwoofus.
“We’vegottodoabetterjobofbeingbrothers,”Isayquietly.“IknowthisthingwithMomgetsyoumad,butdowehavetocometoblowsaboutiteverytimehernamecomesup?Man,Idon’twanttokeepthisstufffromyou.Idon’tlikelyingaboutwhereIamorsneakingawaytotakephonecallssoyoucan’thearme.IfeellikeI’mtiptoeingaroundmyownhouse.”
“Yeah,Igetit.”Cooptakesanotherswigofhisbeer,thenturnsthebottlebetweenhispalmswhilethebreezekicksupandblowsinsaltairfromthebeach.“I’vespentsolongbeingmadather,IguessIwantedyoutobeupsetatherwithme.Kindalonelyoutinthecold.”
“I’mnottryingtoleaveyououtinthecold.Iknewyouweren’treadytoletherbackin.That’scool.Itoldhernottoexpectanything.Hell,Iwarnedheryou’dtelltheFBIshehadJimmyHoffaburiedinherbackyardifshecamearoundhere.”
Hecoughsoutastifflaugh.“Notabadidea.Youknow,ifneeded.”
“Anyway,Ididn’taskyoutoseeherbecauseIknowhowbadshemessedyouuplasttime.I’dwantedyoutogiveherachanceandshe’dbetrayedyou.Bothofus.Yeah,Iwasworriedshe’dmakemeasuckeragain.Stillam.I’mnotsurethatfeelinggoesawaywhenitcomestoShelley.ThisisjustsomethingIneedtodo.Forme.”
“Iwasthinking.”Hisattentionisdrawntohislap,wherehepicksatthemeltinglabelfromthesweatybottle.“MaybeI’dbewillingtoconsidermeetingupwithher.”
“Seriously?”
“Oh,whatthehell.”Cooperdownsthelastofhisbeer.“AslongasyouandMacarethere.What’stheworstthatcanhappen?”
Iwouldn’thaveputmoneyonsuchadramaticchangeofheart.IdoubtitwasanythingIsaid;morelikelyMacworkedonhim.Butit’sallthesametomeeitherway.Wedon’thavemuchofafamilyleft.Itgotevensmallertoday.I’mjustheretryingtocobbletogetherasmuchasIcanoutofthebitsandpieces.Ifwecanstopfightingaboutthisonething,it’llgoalongway.
“I’llsetitup.”
“Tellingyounow,though,”hewarns.“Ifshecomeslookingforakidney,I’mgivingheroneofyours.”CHAPTER30
GENEVIEVE
I’vebeensittingonthefloorinthesameplaceIlandedwhenEvanwalkedout.Staringatthepatternsinthecarpet,thescuffsonthewall,tryingtounderstandwhatjusthappened.Icrawlbackintobed,turnthelightout,andhugtheblanketstightaroundmyshoulderswiththesceneplayingthroughmymind.Hiscolddetachment.Theway,evenwhenoureyesmet,heseemedtolookthroughme.Untouchable.
Didheactuallybreakupwithme?YesterdayIwould’vesaidhewasn’tcapableofsuchacruelandsuddenturn.
Mymemoryoftheconversationwejusthadisfragmented,asthoughIwasn’tentirelypresentforit.NowI’msewingclipstogetherandstillcan’tfathomhowIendedupaloneinthedarkwithanachetearingatmychest.
ItwasonethingwhenIleftlastyear.Hewasstillhere.Thewaywethinkofhomeaspermanent.Safeinamemory.Unmovable.
ThenIcameback,andIthoughtIcouldkeephimthere.Perfectandpreserved.Alwaystheboywithmoredaringthansense.IfIdidn’tletmyselftakehimseriouslyorseehimasawholecomplexperson,Iwouldn’thavetoanswerthehardquestionsaboutwhatthesefeelingswereandwhattodowiththem.Whathappenswhenthepartygirlandthebadboygrowup.
Nowhe’sstolenthatpossibilityfromme,madethehardchoiceforusboth.ExceptIwasn’tready.TimeranoutandI’mleftsittingherealone.
Why’dhedothistome?Makemecareabouthimalloveragain,testeveryboundaryandknockdowneverywall,ifonlytowalkawaynow?
Ithurts,damnit.
MorethanIthoughtitcould.
Andmymindwon’tstoprunningoverwhat-ifsandifonlys.WhatifIhadn’tbeensoobstinateatthestart?IfIhadn’tsetupquitesomanyhurdlestoarelationship?IfonlyI’dbeenmoreopen,wouldwehavehadthisallfiguredoutbynow?
Idon’tknow.
Noneofithelpsmesleep.I’mstillstaringattheceilingwellafteroneinthemorning.Andthat’swhenanoiseoutsidestartlesme.
I’mnotsurewhatitisatfirst.Apassingcarwiththeradioon?Theneighbors?Forthebriefestmoment,mypulselurcheswiththethoughtitmightbeEvanclimbinghiswayup.
Suddenlysomethingsmashesagainstmybedroomwindow.
Loudandpiercing.I’mfrozeninpanicforasecondbeforeIturnonmybedsidelampandruntothewindow.ThereIseethefoamingliquidsheetingdownthewindowpaneandthebrownshardsofglasslitteringthesill.Abeerbottle,fromthelooksofit.
“Youfuckingslutbitch!”
Below,RustyRandallstandsunsteadyonmyfrontlawn,hisoutlinebarelyvisibleintheouteredgeofthestreetlamp’sglow.Hestaggers,shoutingalmostincoherentlyexceptforeveryotherwordorso.
“Bitchex-wife…”Hegrowlssomethingabout“won’tletmeseemydamnkids”and“myowndamnhouse.”
Onthebed,myphonelightsup,andImakeamaddashforit.
Kayla:Iknowit’slatebutIwantedtowarnyou.Rustywashere.He’sdrunkandangry.Stayawayifyouseehim.
Kayla’shouseisjustdownthestreet.Aquickwalkonhisbelligerencetour.Onemorestoponthemidnightgrievancestroll.Tonight,ofallnights,I’mnotinterestedinentertaininghisrage.
Luckily,Idon’thaveto.
“Whatthehellwasthat?”Craigbargesintomyroomrubbingcrustoutofhiseyesashecomestostandbesidemeatthewindow.“Isthattheonewhoarrestedyou?”
“Youdidthis!”Randallshoutsagain.“Youfuckingbitch!”
CraigandIbothturnourheadswhenwehearthestairscreakfollowedbythefrontdooropening.Thefloodlightsfromthefrontporchpopon,lightingRandallonthefrontlawn.Asecondlater,ourdadwalksoutinshortsandaT-shirtwithapump-actionshotguninhishands.
“Oh,shit.Dad’spissed,”Craigbreathes.
He’snottheonlyone.Morefootstepsfollow,downthestairsandoutthedoor.ThenBilly,Shane,andJaywalkouttostandbehindourfather.Six-foot-fiveJayhasabaseballbatslungoverhisshoulder.Ididn’tevenknowheandShanewereheretonight.Kellanmust’vekickedthemoutagainforachick.
RandalldrunkenlygrumblesatDad.Ican’thearthemwell,butbythegesticulations,Icatchthegist.
“Idon’tcareaboutabadge,”Dadsays,raisinghisvoice.“Yougetthehelloffmyproperty.”
WhenRandalldoesn’tmovequickenough,Dadpumpstheshotguntoreiteratehisdemand.
ThatgetsRandallbackpedaling,growlingalongthewaytohiscar.TheFuckAroundandFindOutSocietyremainsundefeated.
CraigandImakeourwayouttotheporchintimetoseehistaillightspass.
“Thatguy’sarealweirdo,”Jaysays,struttinginlikehejustchasedofftheBritishArmysingle-handedlywithhisLouisvilleSlugger.
“Shouldhaveputoneinhisass,”ShanelaughsasDadcomesinandsafelystowstheshotgun.
“He’sdrivingdrunk,”Craigpipesup.“Weshouldtellthesheriff.”
“I’llcallhim,”Dadsaysbeforeglancingatme.“Youokay,kiddo?”
“Yeah,good.”Iflickonthelivingroomlights,andweallcongregateonthesofas.
“Wewerewatchingupstairs,”Craigtellsthem,abigdumbgrinonhisface.“Ithoughtforsureyouweregoingtoshootthatguy.”
Dadleansagainstthebackofhisrecliner,grimacing.
Ifightarushofguilt-tingedanger.“I’msosorry,Dad.Ihadnoideahe’dshowuphere.Kaylatextedmeafterhewasalreadyouttheretotellmehe’dbeenbyherplacetoo.Guessshewouldn’tlethimin.”
“Uh-huh.”Afterabeat,hewalksaroundtositinthebigleatherchair.“IthinkI’mgonnastayupforalittlewhile.Makesurethatnumbskulldoesn’tgetanydumbideas.”
“What’sthatguy’sdeal?”Craigsearchesallofusforananswer.“Imean,somethinghappened,right?”
Billymeetsmygaze.
Itwasbadenoughhavingthatconversationwithmyfather.NowayI’mrehashingitformyyoungestbrother.
“Youknuckleheadsgetonbacktobed,”Dadtellstheboys.
“Ican’tsleepnow.”Shaneallbutbouncesattheendofthesofa.“I’mhyped.I’llstayuptoo.Sitonthefrontporchwiththeshotgunincasehecomesback.”
Jayrollshiseyes,thengivesmeasympatheticnod.“Let’sgo.”
“Oh,comeon.”Craighuffsatbeingdismissed.“Inevergettohearthegoodstuff.Gen?”
Hesearchesmeforsupportorpermission,butIjustshrugandsay,“I’lltellyouwhenyou’reolder.”
Heflipsuphismiddlefinger.“Aw,you’renofun.”
JayyanksCraigbythearmandthenwranglestheothers,pushingBillyandShaneupthestairs,whilecooing,“Bedtime,kiddos.”Whichgetshimmoremiddlefingersanda“fuckoff”fromBilly.
IremainwithDad,watchinghimcautiously.Tohiscredit,he’dremainedremarkablycordialoutthere,giventhataderangedmanwasscreamingobscenitiesathisdaughterandhurlingbottlesagainstthehouse.Whilehisclenchedfistsandwhiteknucklessuggesthe’dliketoreachfortheshotgunagain,hegivesuponlyathreateningthroatclearingashereachesforhisphone.
“I’mgoingtohaveatalkwiththesheriff.”Dadrisesfromhisreclinertokissthetopofmyhead.“Gotobed,kiddo.I’mtakingcareofit.”
Sometimes,agirljustneedsherdad.Asfarastheygo,mine’sprettyalright.CHAPTER31
EVAN
Idreamabouther.Oneofthosehalf-awakemeanderingsofthemindaftermyeyeshaveblinkedopenacoupletimestoclenchshutagainagainstthespillofsunlightacrossmyface.It’snotsomuchadreamasamemoryofsomethingthatneverhappened,indistinctandevaporatingbeforeIcanconsciouslyholdontoit.Butwe’retogether,andwhenmybrainfinallyrocksmeawake,I’mremindedthere’snosleepingthisoneoff.Ilethergo.AnddreamsareallIhaveleft.
Rollingover,Igrabmyphonefromthenightstandtocheckthetime.ThescreenisfulloftextsfromGen.Ittakesmeaminutetogetuptospeed,notunderstandingwhatI’mreadingbecauseI’mseeingitinreverseorder.Onlythemostrecentshowupfirst,soIscrolluptoreadthemproperly.
Gen:Randallshowedupherelastnight.
Gen:Screamingonmyfrontlawn.
Gen:Threwabeerbottleatmywindow.
Thatoneslapsanylingeringgrogginessfrommyhead.
Gen:Dadchasedhimoffwithashotgun.
Gen:Please,weneedtotalk.
I’moutofbedandthrowingonthefirstshirtandpairofshortsIfind.
Gen:Iwouldn’taskifitwasn’timportant
Gen:Thingshavechanged.Meetmeatourspotassoonasyougetthis.Youowemethatmuch.
Already,I’mregrettinghowIwentatheryesterday,especiallyconsideringeverythingshe’dalreadybeenthrough.Icouldhavedoneitbetter.Gently.Nowshesoundslikeshe’safraidI’dignoreher,andthat’sneverwhatIwanted.Distance,yeah.Enoughforbothofustogetusedtotheideaoflivingourownlives.Soshecouldgetonwithherswithoutinterferencefromme.Butthinkingshe’dhavetobegformyhelpwhenshe’sintrouble?That’sanawfulfeeling.
I’moutthedooronlyminuteslater,peelingoutofthedrivewayonmymotorcycle.WhenIarriveatthenarrowpaththatcutsthroughthetreestothehiddenbeach,Genisalreadythere,wearingapairofcutoffsandalooseredT-shirt.She’sonablanketjustabovethetideline,staringatthewaves.
“Hey,”Isay,announcingmyselfasIapproach.“Youokay?Whathappened?”
Shedoesn’tstand,butencouragesmetosit.“I’mfine.Goodthingwedidn’thaveanyloosepaverslyingaroundorwemighthavehadyououtinstallingnewwindows.”
“I’mserious.”Isearchherface,butsheseemsokay.Justalittletired.“Yourmessagessounded—”
“Right.”Sheducksherhead.“Sorry.Didn’tmeantoscareyou.”
“It’sfine.”WhenGenwon’tlookatme,Ibowtomeethereyes.“Imeanit,it’scool.Youneedme,I’mhere.Noproblem.”
Afterabreath,hershouldersrelax.Herfingerdrawsaimlesspatternsinthesandassheexplainswhatexactlywentonlastnight.Findingtherantinglunaticinheryard.RonanWestwalkingouttomeethimlikeDirtyHarry.
“SothenDadcalledthesheriffandtoldhimtogethisassdowntothestation.Theybroughtmeinatthecrackofdawntofilloutapetitionforarestrainingorder.WehungaroundforawhilemakingaformalpolicereportwhileSheriffNixonhadRandallbroughtin.Hewasarrestedfordrunkdriving,andtheyputhimonleave.”Aglintofvindicationlightsherexpression.“Theyhavetodoawholeinternalinvestigationthing,butDadsayshe’sgettingcanned.”
“Good.”It’sabouttime.Igetwhyitdidn’tgothatwayinthefirstplace,butatleastsomething’sfinallybeingdoneaboutthatguy.Hopefully,itbringsGensomepeaceofmind.“Doyouseenowthatnoneofhisproblemswereyourfault?”
Sheslidesmeasarcasticside-eye.“Yeah.”
“Feelbetter?”
“Ifthiskeepshimaway,sure.I’mhonestlytiredofthinkingabouthim.”
“He’sgottenmoreofyourtimethanhedeserved.”
“Exactly.”
I’mgladshetoldme,andI’mrelievedthatshe’salright.IfI’dheardaboutitthroughtherumormill,Iwould’vebeenmakingapassbyRandall’shouse,andthenthere’dbenobodytotalksomesenseintome.Anyway,shedeservestocatchabreak.Thisthing’shadaholdofherformorethanayear.
AsmuchasIwantto,Idon’tknow,consoleher,keephercompany,thelongerwesithere,thelessIknowwhattosayorhowtoact.Ibasicallydumpedherlastnight,soIcan’timagineshewantsmehereanylongerthannecessary.
“Yeah,soI’llheadout.”Iclimbtomyfeet.“Leaveyoube.”
Shejumpsupafterme.“I’mnotdone.Ididn’tcallyououtherejusttotellyouaboutRandall.”
Myheartclenches.I’mnotsureIcangoanotherroundaboutustoday.Lastnightwasbrutal.Evennow,I’mnotsurehowImanagedtowalkoutoftherewithoutlosingmynerve.Ifwehavetorehashthewholeargument,Ican’tbecertainmyresolvewillhold.I’veneverbeengoodatsayingnotoher.
“IstoppedforcoffeewithHarrisononthewayhere.”
Well,then.Thereitis.
Iswallowthehystericallaughterthatbubblesinmythroat.WasIreallyjustthinkingshe’dcomehereaskingmebackwhenIallbutshovedheratanothermanyesterday?Idiot.Gen’sgoteverythinggoingforher.Shedoesn’tneedmydumbassmakingthingsharder.Butthisisgood,actually.Ittakesallthewishfulthinkingandfoolishnotionsrightoffthetable.
“He’sastand-upguy,”Itellher
“Heis.”
“Stilladoofus.”Alright,maybeIcan’thelpmyself.“Buthe’snice,polite.Probablysortshislaundryaccordingtothecareinstructions,soyouwon’thavetoworryabouthimshrinkingyourclothes.”
Gensmirks,bitingherlipassheturnsherhead.“Youaresoweirdsometimes.”
“Yourkidsaregoingtobeshort,though.He’sgotkindofanodd-shapedheadtoo.Thatmightbehereditary.Youshouldprobablyputtheminkarateorsomething.Getthemintoboxing.Withacraniumlikethat,they’regonnaneedtoknowhowtodefendthemselves.”
Exasperated,sheshakesherhead.“Willyoustop?”Still,she’sbeaming.“ItoldhimIcouldn’tseehimanymore.”
Ourgazeslock.“Whywouldyoudothat?”
“Because.”Gen’ssmileissoinfectious,Ican’thelpbutmimicher.“ItoldhimIwasinlovewithEvanHartley.”
Icanfeelmyheartbeatinmyface.YetsomehowIstillmanagetoplayitcool.“That’ssostrange,’causeIknowthatguy.”
“Uh-huh.”There’sabizarregleaminhereyesthat’salmostgotmefrightened.“Tookmealittlewhile,butasitturnsout,I’vebeeninlovewithhimforalongtime.”
Partofmewantstothrowherovermyshoulderandtosscautiontothewind,butweendeduphereforareason.
“WhataboutTrina’scoke?Youspentthenightinjailbecauseofme,”Iremindher.“IfRandallhadn’tbeentheonewhoarrestedyou,oryourdadwasn’tfriendswiththesheriff,maybethewholethingdoesn’tgoawaysoeasy.”
“No,see.”Sheholdsonefingerintheair.“I’vedecidedIrejectyourpremise.”
She’ssocutesometimes.“Really?”
“Indeed.”Shenodssharply.“Ialreadytoldyou,I’mgladIwentoutwithTrina.YousaidIneededtoseethatIcouldgooutandhaveagoodtimewithoutlosingcontrol.AndIdid.Iprovedalottomyselfthatnight.LikeIsaidbefore,nothingabouthowitendedwasyourfault.”
WhenmyexpressionrevealsI’mlessthanconvinced,shedigsin.
“YouandIcouldgobacktosingledigitstryingtotaketheblameforeverythingthateverhappenedtoeitherofus.It’sazero-sumgame.Noneofitisuseful.”
“Itworriesmethatyou’restartingtomakesense,”Isay,smotheringagrin.
“IhadtoconvincemyselfI’dreallychanged.Tome,thatnightshowsIhave.AndIdiditwithyouinmylife.Youknowwhatelse?You’vechangedtoo.FormostofthetimeI’veknownyou,you’vehadthischiponyourshoulder.Fightingthewholeworldonathousandfronts,alwaysreadytothrowapunchbeforeitthrewoneatyou.Idon’tseethatanymore.Likeitornot,Evan,you’vemellowedinyouroldage.”
“Jesus…”Igrabmychest.“Rightfortheheart,Fred.”
Sheshrugsatme.“It’scalledgrowth.Getoverit.”
Idon’tknowwherethisnewenergyiscomingfrom,butIdon’thateit.She’salive,happy.Glowingwiththatoldfireandverve.Likeshecouldturnsandtoglasswithawink.
“We’vegrownasacouple,”shecontinues.“ButI’mhopingwecangrowalittlemore.”
Thisfeelslikebeingblindfolded,asifshe’swalkingmearoundinthedarkandI’mfollowingher,alittleterrifiedandexpectant.She’suptosomething.Somethingbothterribleandexciting.It’slikethatfirsttimewatchinghertakearunningleapoffthepier,butthistimeshe’sgotmebythehand.
“I’vebeensittinghereforawhile.AndIwasthinking…”Genstepscloserandputsherhandsagainstmychest.Mymusclesquiverbeneathherpalms.Webothknowwhathertouchdoestome.“Ithinkyoushouldprobablymarryme.”
Mymouthgoesdry.“Thatright?”
“Makeawholebunchofbabies.”
“Anentirebunch?”Ican’tfeelmyfingers.Thesoundsoftheoceanturntoasharpringinginmyearsasmychestexpandswitharushofpure,unfilteredjoy.
“I’llrunMackenzie’shotel,andyoucanbethestay-at-homedadraisingoursevenkids.”
Goingquietforabeat,Genlooksupatmethroughthicklashes.
ThensheholdsoutaredBlowPop.
“Ifyouwant,”shesaysimpishly,thoughherexpressionconveysuttersincerity,“thisismeasking.”
I’mnotevensureifI’mstillstanding.ButI’mnotamoron,either.“Yeah,Iwant.”
Fingerstuggingmyshirt,sheleansuptopressherlipstomine.I’mstillhalfstunnedforafewsecondsbeforemybrainrebootsandIwrapmyarmsaroundher,kissingherdeeply.Thisamazing,absurdwomanwhohasnoideawhatshe’sgettingherselfinto.
“You’regoingtogetsickofhowmuchIloveyou,”Itellher,brushingherhairoffhershoulders.“Totallydisgustedwithit.”
“I’lltakethatbet.”Shetipsherheadtosmileatme,thentriestokissmeagain.
“Listen.”Iholdherstill.“Don’tgetmewrong,Ilovethisplan.Whateveryouhadforbreakfast,let’sstickwiththat.Butwhatabout…”Hell,Idon’tknowhowtosayit.“Youknow,yourdad.Andyourbrothers.I’mprettysuretheyhaveaholedugsomewherewithmynameonit.”
“Whataboutyourbrother?”shecounters.“Whocares.They’llcomearoundortheywon’t.You’rewhatIwant.TheonlythingI’veeveraskedfor.IthinkI’mkindofentitledatthispoint.”
“Well,IhaveafeelingCooperwillcomearoundsoonerthanyouthink.”
Forthefirsttimeinmylife,Icanpicturemyfuturemorethanafewdaysout.Asenseoffamilyandsecurity.Permanence.MeandGen,marriedandblissfullyhappy.I’mcatchingglimpsesofwhatwakinguptosomeonefeelslike,knowingtheyaren’trushingtosneakoutwiththeirshoesintheirhands.
“Seriously.We’redoingthis?”Iaskroughly.“Becauseifyouthinkyouhadtocomeupwithsomegrandgesturetogetmeback,youcouldhavejustshownmeyourtits.Iwould’vecavedrightaway.Noquestion.”Ichewontheinsideofmycheek.“Idon’twantyoutothinkweneedtogetmarriedtoprovethisisreal.”
Sheflashesacockygrin.“Trustme,I’veknownI’vehadyouwhippedsinceseventhgrade.”
“See.”Withmyarmsaroundher,Islidemyhandsintoherbackpocketstograbherass.“Youthinkthat’saninsult,butIdon’tmindabit.Mymasculinityisentirelyintact.I’dfollowthisassanywhere.”
Thistimewhenshetriestokissme,Ilether.Shedoesmeinwhenshebitesmylip.Bythen,I’vegotnosenseleft.Instead,Iwrapmyarmsunderherthighstoliftheruparoundmyhipsaswekiss.
HowdidIeverthinkIcouldlivewithoutthis?Herskinundermypalms.Hertasteonmytongue.ThewaymyheartbeatsalmostpainfullyfastwhensheweavesherfingersintomyhairandpullsThiswoman.
AsGenbeginstobreatheharder,slidinghertongueinmymouthtotanglewithmine,Ishovemyhanduphershirttograbahandfulofherbreast.Shearchesintomyhand,grindingherselfonme.I’mhardandpushingagainstthezipperofmyshortsasshescrapesherteethagainstthestubbleonmychinandrunshertonguedownmyneck.
“Wait.”Shelowersherlegstostand.“Getinthebackseatofmycar.”
Istareather.“Youknow,ifacopcomesby,thistimewe’llbothendupspendinganightinjail.”
“Maybe.ButI’lltakemychances.”Sheplantsasweetkissonmycheek.“Gottabeabadgirlsomeofthetime,right?”
Goodenoughforme.BecauseI’lltakeheranywayIcan.
Forever.EPILOGUE
GENEVIEVE
I’vegotmyheadinthetwins’linenclosetlookingforanoutdoortableclothwhenI’mjoltedbyapairofarmscomingaroundmefrombehind.Evan’slipsbrushmyneck.Hishandstravelupmyribs,undermyshirt,tosneaktheirwaypastmybraandcupmybreasts.Ifeelhiserectionpressingagainstmyass
“Iwantyou,”hebreathes.
“Soyoukeepsaying.”Thisisthefourthtimethisafternoonhe’scorneredmesomewherearoundthehousetomakehisintentionsclear.“Dinnerwillbereadysoon.”
Onehandslidesdownmystomachandintomyshorts.“Iwanttoeatnow.”
Ahotshiverrollsthroughme.Heisn’tplayingfair.Sincewemadetheengagementofficial,wecan’tkeepourhandsoffeachother.Evan’snewfavoritegame—whichI’vebeenlessthansincereaboutdeterring—isseeinghowclosehecangettooutrightseducingmeinpublicbeforeIcallatime-out.
Sofar,prettydamnclose.
“HaveImentionedIloveyou?”hewhispers,hisfingersslippingbetweenmythighs.“Especiallythispart.”
“Especially?”Iyankhishandfreeandturntofacehim,eyebrowraised.
“Equally.Imeantequally.AsIloveallthe…”Hiseyesdragovermybody.“Partsofyou.”
“Justforthat”—Ireachundermyshirtandunclaspmystraplessbra,lettingitdroptothefloor—“I’mnotwearingabratodinner.”
“Whoops.”Macappearsaroundthecornerofthehallway.Shepauses,thenspinsonherheel.“Carryon.Notevenhere.”
Withadevilishgrin,Evanbendsdownandpicksupmybra.Heshovesitinhisbackpocket.“I’mkeepingthis.”
Amongthestrangerthingshe’sdone,thisisupthere.“Why?”
“You’llfindout.”
Fartoohappywithhimself,hesauntersoff.
OnceI’vefoundthetablecloth,IheadbacktothekitchenwhereMacisplacingtraysoffoodonalargerservingtraytocarryoutside.ItosstheclothatEvanandorderhimtogosetthetableonthedeck.
“Sowhat’sthescore?”Macasksme.
“Honestly,I’velostcount.”Ispoonthepotatosaladintoabigbowlthenpulltheroastedcarrotsoutoftheoven.
We’rehavinganalfrescobuffet-styledinnertonight.Severalofourfriends,alongwithRileyandhisaunt,arealreadyoutsidemillingabout.Stephkeepsjokingthatit’sourengagementdinner,butit’sreallynot.Moreofaspur-of-the-momentsuggestiononthepartofEvan,whoseimpulsivetendencieshaven’tcompletelyabated.
Hebumpsintomewhilepullingutensilsoutofadrawer.“I’mwinning.”
“I’mgonnasaythisagain—”Cooperannounces,comingtostandinthemiddleofthekitchen.
“Coop,stop.”Macrollshereyesasshepicksupatrayladenwithvarioussalads.
“No,I’dliketoreiterate.IfIfindoutanyonebutmeishavingsexonmybed,I’msettingtheirsonfireinthebackyard.”
“Dude.”Evanlaughsathim.“Seriously,whatmakesyouthinkI’dwanttoblowaloadinyourroom?I’veheardwhatyougetuptointhere.”
Forthat,hegetsaswiftsmacktothearmfromMac.
“Justsoyouknow,”CoopershootsbackasEvanispickingacucumberspearoffthecuttingboardtopopinhismouth.“I’vehadsexwithheronthatcounter.Soenjoy.”
“Jesus.”Evanshudders.“Iknowyouconfusemewithamirror,butwedon’tactuallyshareadick,man.Keepittoyourself.”
Lately,mostoftheribbinghascomeatourexpense.Justalittlegood-naturedteasingaboutournewlyengagedbliss.Thatwe’retooyoungtogetmarriedand,beforeweknowit,we’llbothbeboredwitheachotheranddrowninginbabydiapers.Still,itdoesn’tfazeus.LikeEvantoldCooperwhenweannouncedit,weknowwe’reforever.We’vealwaysknown.
AsMacandEvandriftontothebackdeck,IsetmyovenmittsonthecounterandgiveCooperasidelongglance.Hecocksabrowwhenhenotices.“What?”hesaysdefensively.
Myansweringsmileissaccharine.“Stillhaven’tgottenmyapologyfortheday.”
“Fuck’ssake.Areyouseriouslygoingtoholdmetothat?”
“Suream.”
Afewdaysago,CooperandItookawalkonthebeachandhadalongoverduechat.Anditdidn’teventakeanyurgingfromEvanorMackenzie.Myfuturebrother-in-lawandIwerematureenoughtoknowweneededtosquashthebeef.SoIapologizedforbeingabadinfluenceonEvaninthepast,whileCooperapologizedforconfrontingmeoutsidemyplaceofbusinessandtellingmewhatahorriblepersonIwas.Hethenofferedmetheprivilegeofhisfriendshipagain,towhichI’dlaughedandinformedhimifhewantedtheprivilegeofmyfriendship,hewouldneedtoapologizetomeeverydayuntilthewedding.Wheneverthat’llbe.We’reonDayFournow,andI’mhavingablast.
“Fine.”Cooperletsoutanannoyedbreath.“I’msorryfortellingyoutofuckoffandsayingweweren’tfriends.”
“Thanks,Coop.”Iwalkovertorufflehishair.“Appreciateit.”
Macreturnstowitnesstheexchange,laughingunderherbreath.“Cuthimsomeslack,Gen.Hepromisedtobenicefromnowon.”
Ithinkitover.“Fine.Ireleaseyoufromyourapologyobligations,”ItellCooper.
Herollshiseyesandheadsoutsidetoassisthisbrother.
“Needsomehelp?”Alanaappearsattheopenslidingdoor,uncharacteristicallyeagertohelpout.Shepracticallygrabsthepotatosaladbowlfrommyhand.
Istareather.“Whyareyoubeingweird?”
Besideme,MacpeerspastAlana’sshouldertowardthedeck.“She’savoidingWyatt,”Macsupplies.“He’sglaringdaggersatusrightnow.”
Idon’tknowwhethertolaughorsigh.Whereasmylovelifefinallystraighteneditselfout,Alana’sseemstobegrowingevermorecomplicated.“Whatdidyoudotohimthistime?”Iaskher.
Shescowlsatme.“Nothing.”
Macliftsabrow.
“Fine.”Alanahuffs.“I’mgettingmyleftwristinkedformybirthdaynextweek.SoIhadatattoodesigned.”
I’mconfused.“And?”
“BysomeoneotherthanWyatt.”
Igasp.“No!”
EvenMac,who’sonlylivedintheBayforayearorso,graspstheimplicationsofthat.Wyattisthebestartistintown.Goingtoanybodyelseforatatissacrilege.
“I’mallowedtousesomeoneelse,”Alanaargues.“Preferablysomeonewhodoesn’tthinkthey’reinlovewithme.”
“Guessyoucan’tgotoTateeither,then,”Maccracks,andsheandIgiggle.
Alana’smouthtwistsinanotherscowl.Sheswiftlysetsdownthepotatosalad.“Youknowwhat?I’mnothelpinganymore.Ihateyouboth.”
Shestompsoff,leavinguslaughinginherwake.Throughtheslidingdoor,IseehermarchpastWyatttojoinStephandHeidiontheothersideofthedeck,whereshetriestocamouflageintotherailing.
“Oh,thetangledwebsweweave,”Macremarks,stillchuckling.
Westepoutsideandstartarrangingtheservingdishesonthetable.Anotherfoldingtablehasanarrayofdrinks,andafewcoolersofbeersitonthefloornearby.Coopergoestocheckthemeathe’sgrillingonthebarbecue,whileEvanwandersoutwithastackofnapkinsandplacesthemnexttothepileofutensils.
“Where’sRiley?”heasks,glancingaround.
Inodtowardtheyardbelow,whereRileyandTateareonthesandengagedinananimatedconversationaboutsailing.Riley’sauntLizstandsafewfeetaway,checkingherphone.
“Hetoldmehehasacrushonagirlinhisbiologyclass,”IwhispertoEvan,noddingathissurrogatebabybrother.
“Oh,Becky?Yeah,Iknowallabouther.”
“Becky?No,hesaidhernamewasAddison.”Myjawdrops.“OhmyGod.He’sturningintoalittleplayer.”
Evangrinsproudly.“Good.Lethimplaythefieldabit.He’stooyoungtosettledown.”
Isigh,abouttoofferacomeback,whenaflashofmovementcatchesmyperipheralvision.Iturntowarditandsuckinabreath.
“Whatthehell,”IhissatEvan.
He’sstillallsmiles.“Harrison!”hecallstothekhaki-and-polo-claddeputywhoapproachesthedeckfromthesideoftheHartleyhouse.“Gladyoucouldmakeit!”
HeinvitedHarrison?Andhe’sactuallycallinghimbyhispropernameinsteadofsomepassive-aggressivetaunt?
“Evan,”Igrowlsoftly.“Whathaveyoudone?”
“Chill,baby,”hewhispersback.“Justthinkofmeasthelovefairy.Spreadingallthelovearound.”
Whatintheactualfuck.I’vebarelyregisteredtheabsurdityoftheremarkbeforeEvanisgone,saunteringdownthestepstowardthenewarrival.Ifindmyfootingandhurryafterhim,preparedtododamagecontrol.Justhowmuchofitwillberequired?Undetermined.
IreachthemintimetowitnessEvanclapHarrisonontheshoulderandsay,“Beenwantingtointroduceyoutwoforages.”
Youtwo?
IblinkinsurpriseasmycrazyfiancéushersHarrisonovertoRiley’sauntandstartsmakingintroductions.HarrisonandAuntLiz?That’sjust…genius,Irealize.Asmyinitialsurprisewanes,itoccurstomethatthismightbethegreatestmatchmakingschemeinhistory.I’malmostdisappointedIdidn’tthinkofitfirst.
“Lizis,like,thebestnurseever,”Evanisraving.“Atleastthat’swhatIhearinallmynursingcircles.”
Ichokedownalaughandaddtothepitch.“Harrisononcecarriedagatordownfromaroofwithhisbarehands,”IinformLiz.
Evan’sbrowsraise.“Seriously?Dude.Ineedtohearthisstory—”
“Anothertime,”Ichirp,latchingahandontohisarm.“Weneedtofinishbringingthefoodoutfirst.’Scuseus.”
Withthat,weleaveaslightlydazedHarrisonandanamused-lookingLiztotheirowndevices.
“Damn,Mr.LoveFairy,”Imurmuraswereturntothekitchen.“Thatwassomegoodthinking.They’retheperfectmatch.”
Evannodsvigorously.“Right?”
I’mgrabbingthelastofthecondimentsfromthefridgewhenthedoorbellrings.
“I’llgetit,”hesaysbeforedartingoff.
Isetdowntheketchupandmustardbottles,thenwipemyhandsandgotoseewho’satthedoor.
StandinginthedoorwayisShelleyHartley.Ihaven’tseenEvan’smotherin…Idon’tknowhowmanyyears.Shelooksgood,though.Likeshe’stakingcareofherself.Herhairisnolongerdyedblonde,buthernaturaldarkbrown.Herskinlookshealthy,andherjeansandtanktopactuallycoveralltheimportantbits.
LasttimeIaskedEvanabouther,he’dsaidhewasn’tquitereadytospringheronme.Untilnow,itseems.
“Ibakedapie.”Sheholdsupatinwrappedinfoil.Thenhersmilefalters.“Okay,that’salie.Iboughtitatthegrocerystoreandrewrappedit.Butit’sastart,right?”
Evanisclearlytryingnottolaugh.“That’sgreat,Mom.”Hegivesherakissonthecheekandinvitesherin.“Weappreciateit.”
Cooper’sstandinginthelivingroomassheenters.Heofferstotakethepiefromher.Whilehedoesn’tentirelymanageasmileorakissforhismother,hegivesheranod.“Thankyou,”hesaysbrusquely.“Thatwasthoughtful.”
Bythereliefonherface,it’smorethanShelleyhopedfor.
“Mom.YourememberGenevieve.”Evancoaxesmeforward.
“OfcourseIdo.Andohmygoodness,you’vegottensogorgeous.”Shepullsmeintoatighthug.“Evantoldmeabouttheengagement.I’msohappyforyoutwo,”shegushes,holdingmeoutwithherhandsonmyarms.Sheglancesathersonwithanoddlysmugsmile.“See,baby?Didn’tItellyou?Mylovepredictionsalwayscometrue.”Sheturnsbacktome.“Ialwayslikedyoutwotogether.Evenwhenyouwerelittle.Isaid,he’sgoingtomarrythatgirlsomeday,ifheknowswhat’sgoodforhim.”
Igetatadchokedup.“That’sreallysweet.”
“Man,yourkids,”sheexclaims,eyeshuge.“Suchbeautifulkidsyoutwoaregonnahave.Ican’teven.”
Shelleyisalreadyplanningplaydateswithhergrandkidsbeforewe’veevensetadateforthewedding.Notthatwe’restalling,butwiththegrandopeningatTheBeaconcomingup,schedulingisanightmare.
Anyway,Ithinkmydadisstillindenialaboutthewholething.AlittleupsetthatIaskedEvantomarrymewithouttalkingtohimfirst—andalotscaredthathisonlydaughterisn’tfiveyearsoldanymore.Badenoughhe’slosingCraigtocollegenextweek.BillyandJayinsisthe’llworkhiswaythroughthegriefprocessintimeforthewedding.Well,that’sifEvansurvivestheritualhazingShaneandKellanhavepromisedtoexecuteuntilhecracksorgoesintohiding.ButIhavefaithEvancanholdhisown.Onewayoranother,we’remashingthesefamiliestogether,andconsequencesbedamned.Kickingandscreamingifneedbe.
Afterthegreetings,weallgooutsideandstartloadingupourplates.It’sasuper-casualaffair.HarrisonandLizseemtohavehititoff,sobusytalkingandsmilingthatthey’reignoringtheirfood.Heidiandafewothersgatherattherailingtoeatstanding.Rileyscarfsdownhotdogsandcoleslawonthedecksteps.
Meanwhile,thetwinssitatthetable,withmeandMacattheirsidesandtheirmomsittingacrossfromthem.Evansqueezesmyhandunderthetable.He’dbeenanxiousthepastcoupledays.Tense.Ihadn’tunderstoodwhy,butnow,seeingthecontentmentinhiseyes,Irealizethisisabigmomentforhim.HavingShelleyandherboysatthesametablehasbeenalongtimecoming.Despitethedifferentroadswe’vetakentogethere—andbecauseofthem—we’veallfoundoursecondchances.
Acoolbreezewaftsoverthedeckandfluttersournapkins.Theseason’schangingintheBay,summer’salmostover.Myarmsbreakoutingoosebumps,andatinyshivertravelsdownmyspine.It’sthenIrealizemyshirtfeelsabitdrafty.IglanceuptoseeEvan’ssmuggrinandrememberI’mnotwearingabra.Atmyfirstdinnerwithhismother.Andmynipplesarehard.
Evandrawsatickmarkintheair.
Iwalkedrightintothisone.“Soit’sgoingtobelikethat,huh?”Igrumbleundermybreath.
Hepullsmyhanduptokissmyknuckles.“Always.”ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Somestoriesarehardertowritethanothers,andsomeareanabsolutejoytoputdownonthepage.Thisbookfallsintothelattercategory—IlovedeverysecondofwritingBadGirlReputationandbreathinglifeintoGenevieveandEvan.Theirstoryisoneofredemption,forgiveness,secondchances,andthedifficultiesthatcomewithsheddingyourpastandtryingtobeabetter,healthierversionofyourself.I’msothankfulforeveryonewhohelpedmeshapetheAvalonBayworldandbringthisbookintoyourhands:
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