Chapter Henry

Henry

“Want to do something wild?” Piper asks.

We’ve just left Going Coconuts, a diner Piper suggested, where we ended up with a spread of desserts: apple pie à la mode, bread pudding, an enormous chocolate brownie with pecans, and two spoons.

Our order was Piper’s idea, which I went along with because she was in a crappy mood—something to do with Tati, though she was unwilling to elaborate.

I wasn’t in a great mood either. When I got home from the park, I found a few texts from Silas and Ricky, telling me they’d run into Whitney downtown.

Silas

Thought you two were over.

Ricky

Wouldn’t’ve known it by the way she was talking.

Silas

She was the same when we went for coffee a few weeks back. If you guys are done, she never got the memo.

And then there was a string of texts from Whitney.

Nothing urgent—nothing new, even. Requests to call, appeals to talk, wishes sent out in little blue bubbles.

Let’s try again. It’ll work this time. Please, Henry.

These are roads we’ve walked, roads I can’t keep walking.

She has her parents and her friends, people better equipped to give her emotional support than I am.

Jesus—I need emotional support too.

Instead, I ended up nailed to the wall by guilt.

“What do you mean, wild?” I ask Piper.

“You know, out of your comfort zone.”

I take her hand as we navigate the sidewalk, busy with the after-dinner crowd. “But I like my comfort zone. It’s…comfortable.”

“You don’t ever feel like being spontaneous?”

“I’m sorry, have we met?”

“Henry. Please?”

I scrutinize her expression: earnest, eager, a little madcap. We walk on.

“What do you have in mind?” I finally ask.

She turns to smile up at me. “Let’s go to the park.”

“What, like a playground?”

“No! Jeez, are you eight? The Marine Conservation Park.”

“But it’s closed.”

“I know.”

I tug her to a stop, confused. “I was there earlier. You worked a six-hour shift. Why go back now, in the dark?”

“Because, like you said, it’s my home away from home.”

“I don’t know, Piper.” I reach up to rub the back of my neck. Like a loser, I ask, “What if we get in trouble?”

“We won’t.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ve been sneaking in for years.”

I balk at the nonchalant way she admits to trespassing. “We could end up in deep shit, though.”

“Henry, you worry too much.”

“Well, yeah. Someone’s got to.”

She squints, like she’s seeing the real me for the first time. She frowns, unimpressed, apparently.

“Okay,” she says. “Then I’ll go by myself.”

She starts walking—not toward the Towers, where we were headed before, but in the opposite direction. Toward the Marine Conservation Park.

My choices are simple. I can let her go alone, ensuring that the possibility of misfortune stays far from me. Or I can tag along, make sure she’s safe, and live a little. Like Whitney used to say. Like my dad still says.

I keep thinking about how it felt to dance with Piper on the pier.

How freeing it was to let go.

What’s the worst that could happen?

You could get caught, my conscience whispers. And if you do, you’re fucked.

But Piper’s been going after-hours for years—she just said so.

I don’t know what happened with her sister earlier, but she obviously needs to reclaim her center.

While I recalibrate by going on a run, she goes to the Marine Conservation Park, where her parents’ memory lingers on clean paths, in cool pools, and through the protection and preservation of ocean life.

Who am I to judge?

I watch her retreat in her frayed denim shorts and loose white tank. Her ponytail swings, and her hips sway. Her Reefs slap the pavement as she marches down the sidewalk.

Instead of trying to get to the bottom of her mood, instead of trying to help her, I’m letting her walk away, this gorgeous girl who has decided to let me into her world.

What an idiot I can be.

Piper wouldn’t risk her job or her good standing with her boss. It’s not as if she sneaks into the park to cause trouble. The reverence she has for the product of her parents’ hard work is the same as what someone else might feel for a monument or a church.

As far as she’s concerned, the Marine Conservation Park is hallowed ground.

She’s halfway down the block, and I’m vacillating like a moron.

I take off after her.

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