Reclaimed Hearts: A second chance, forced proximity romance

Forgotten Wishes

“Declan Storms? The Declan Storms?” Emma screeched while she grabbed plates and I expertly picked up four water glasses with one hand.

She dumped the plates into her plastic bucket while I did the same with the glasses in mine. The lunch rush had just ended and we were exhausted, but still had a few more hours to go. Thankfully, it died down enough where I could tell her what happened on the way over.

“Yup. I literally crashed right into him and flew off my bike.” The two giant bandages on my knees were proof of my encounter. That, plus the ache in my wrists from smashing them into the pavement and now hoisting tray after tray through the restaurant.

“Ouch,” she sympathized, grimacing. She tucked her short, dark hair behind her ears, even though it would fall out a second later like it always did. Especially after she lowered her red heart-shaped sunglasses over her eyes. They were her signature, and she went nowhere without them. It also made it easy to spot her from a distance, considering her size of five-foot one inch did its best to hide her.

She could stand behind me, someone six inches taller, and basically disappear.

“I’ll feel it tomorrow, I’m sure. But back to the craziness. Declan Storms. I managed to not only run him over, but basically jump straight into his arms.”

Emma came to a dead stop, her jaw dropped. “Excuse-moi?”

I shook my head, reaching back to rub at my aching shoulder. From work, not from the crash. “I know. Or, actually, I don’t know. But yeah, I landed with his hands on my hips. And get this—he knows my name.”

Emma giggled, the same one that most girls did when it came to Declan. I rolled my eyes and chucked my table rag at her. “Stop that! It’s so embarrassing! I crashed into the hottest guy on the Cove. I don’t think I actually apologized either, I just stood there, blood dripping down my knees. It wasn’t cute. It wasn’t hot. And then guess what happened?”

All I got was a stare in response, so I continued. “He asked where I worked and said ‘see you later.’ Like, what does that even mean? Also, why do I care?”

“Girl, if I know you, you’ve already made a pro-con list in your head about why you care. Or on your phone. Is it on your phone? Can I see it?” A squeal left Emma’s lips, eliciting side eyes from a few patrons still at the beachside tables. She bounced on her toes and clapped the pads of her fingertips together softly, as not to make a huge commotion.

“Shh!” I chastised, bumping her hip with mine. But the grin on my face also matched hers. Even though I had no idea what Declan wanted with me, it still set off a few butterflies in my stomach. “I don’t have a list. Yet. But even if I did, the first thing on it would be, why me?”

“Why not you? You’re a catch. But…,” Emma said, this time in a softer voice. I shot her a look, but found only seriousness in her features.

My brows slammed down. “But what?”

She shook her head. “Sorry. I’m still on Team Reid. I have this whole elaborate vision drawn up in my head on the reunion between the two of you. He’ll be coming back for the summer, and you’ll see each other from across the room.” She paused, lifting her hands into the air like she was conducting an orchestra. “Cue the romantic music. You lock eyes, then you both start running across—”

“Alright, alright, I get the point. I highly doubt that is going to happen, but whatever. More like, he comes back, hangs out with us on the beach, and we pretend last summer never happened.” A sharp pain hit my gut at that statement. I hated saying it, as I desperately didn’t want it to be true.

Emma shrugged. “Well, if you’re so dead set on being over Reid, then sure. Go for Declan Storms. If you’re worried about Norah, but don’t worry, she’s totally over him. He’s all yours.”

The mention of our friend brought back a memory I didn’t even consider until now—Norah had a massive crush on Declan Storms our freshman year of high school. But if Emma said Norah was over it, then I was sure she was telling the truth. Emma had never spoken a lie in her life, and she wouldn’t start now.

It was the flip-flopping in my heart that confused me. I had never been interested in Declan Storms before. Sure, he was hot. And charming. And not the worst Baysider out there.

But he was still… Declan.

The highest of the Covington Cove High hierarchy. The very top. Someone who could get any girl he wanted with a snap of his fingers. Why on earth would he have been looking at me?

According to the CCHS hierarchy, I was low on the totem pole. There wasn’t anything special about me. I wasn’t into sports. My grades were average at best. And while my hair was pretty fantastic with the natural highlights and ringlet curls—it was probably my best feature—it wasn’t really enough to make me stand out.

In short, there was nothing about me that set me apart from the other dozens of girls in my grade. Nothing particular that would have caught the eye of someone like Declan Storms.

I sighed and plopped onto the bench in front of me. “Are you going to tell Norah?”

Emma shook her head. That was another great thing about having her as a friend—she kept secrets, locked away in a vault until you brought it back up, no matter how long that was. She said her record was almost ten years, and her brother confirmed it, saying Emma kept a secret on who broke a window with a ball when they were, like, six or so.

“What’s wrong?” Emma asked. “Half the girls at school would die to be in your place right now.”

I could name a full laundry list of things that were wrong, starting with the attention from Declan, and ending with a myriad of other things.

“Grace? Or Reid?” Emma offered, naming my ex-best friend and ex-boyfriend. I just shrugged. Both of them were issues, sure. Separate issues that caused separate mental strain when I tried to pinpoint exactly where things went wrong with both of them.

I didn’t have a chance to answer, though, because a swarm of rings hit just then, from our phones and all the ones around us.

At the same time, our manager, Mason, poked his head out and informed us that a party of fifteen was headed our way.

Emma and I gawked at each other and groaned. We had just finished cleaning up from the lunch rush and now it looked like we would be kept busy until the end of our shift.

In a flash, we dug our feet into the sand and muscled our way to the server station to grab menus and silverware.

Two hours later, we were done, and the group was gone. Emma and I cleared the tables as fast as we could.

Sand stuck to my sweaty leg, which meant I would find a ton in my shoes later. We had gone back and forth between the kitchens and the tables a zillion times. Every muscle ached, both from work and my stupidity earlier.

“I can’t believe it,” Zach muttered as he came to help us clean up the remaining dishes. “I just can’t believe it. How many people on this island have lived their entire life with her just… here? And now she’s not?”

I paused and frowned, staring at him like he was speaking another language. He appeared out of nowhere, most likely Mason telling him to come out, and now he was talking to himself?

“Zach? Did someone, um, did someone you know pass away?” I laid a hand gently on his shoulder.

He gave me the same insane look I had given him. “You didn’t hear?”

Glancing up over his head, I caught Emma’s eye, finding her just as confused as I was.

“Guess not. That party kept us busy. Is everything okay?” I asked.

Zach cleared his throat and wiped at his eyes. “I don’t even know why it’s making me emotional. It just feels like the Queen died or something. I didn’t even know her, but I also didn’t know a life without her, you know?”

Shifting the bus bucket over to my other hip, I asked, “Zach? Can you maybe tell us who it was?”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, yeah. Eleanor Covington.”

The world came to a screeching halt.

He was right—it was like when the Queen died. Except, unlike Zach who was trying to justify his feelings because he never really knew her…

I had. Personally.

Emma gasped, her hand flying over her mouth, her eyes wide in shock.

My legs gave out from under me and I dropped to the bench, my bucket ending up in my lap. Emma took it and put it on the table before sitting next to me. “Oh.”

Zach’s eyes narrowed, his head cocked. “Did you, like, actually know her?”

“I did.” I couldn’t even muster a nod or more words than that. “She died today?”

I needed clarification. Having her die on my birthday felt like a double whammy to my heart.

Zach nodded, then took off back toward the restaurant.

Eleanor Covington had been one of the most genuine, nicest people I had ever met. She never looked down on me, never treated me like the girl whose parents just up and abandoned her when she was five.

I had known her my entire life. Grandmum worked at the Covington Mansion, and after my parents left me with her, she had to un-retire and go back to work.

Mom had worked in housekeeping with Grandmum. She and Dad were only eighteen when I arrived, so Mom would bring me to work with her.

Grandmum had done the same once I became her responsibility. I ran around the mansion like it was my own playground while she worked. And every time Eleanor found me, instead of chastising me, she would bring me to a new spot in the mansion and tell me stories of her youth there.

She was the one who let me play in Charlotte’s playroom, a room usually off limits to guests except to look through the door on tours.

Charlotte had been the daughter of the founders, Nathaniel and Genevieve. She had also been Eleanor’s grandmother.

I was in a state of shock. I practically grew up in the mansion, and to this day, when there were big events or they were short staffed, Grandmum brought me in to help with the housekeeping.

Eleanor had watched me grow up. We would have conversations about life on the Cove, how it differed from her generation to mine, and all sorts of things. There wasn’t a time when I went to the mansion that one of us didn’t find the other.

I had seen her just a few short weeks ago.

“Marlowe…” Emma whispered. “Don’t do it.”

I blinked, looking up at her with so much sadness around my heart, it physically hurt.

“Don’t add her to your list. Eleanor didn’t leave you. By what you’ve told me over the years, she loved you. But she died, Marlowe. She didn’t leave you on purpose. I mean, she was in her mid-nineties. It’s not that unexpected, right?” Emma laid a hand on my shoulder, trying to console me, but it didn’t work.

She knew I had a list of people in my dresser drawer at home. A list of people that said they loved me, then vanished from my life.

My parents being the first two on the list.

“It’s… a surprise, that’s all. She was so nice to me. I… I’m going to miss her,” I muttered, staring down at the sand now. “Just a surprise.”

Emma cleared her throat. “Speaking of surprises…”

I glanced up, looking at her, but she jutted her chin toward the restaurant’s back door.

Where Declan Storms stood, a small bouquet of flowers in his hands and a bright, megawatt smile on his face.