Chapter 10 #2
I turn to face him and over my shoulder he slides the book back in place, but leaves his hand resting against the shelves. “I never had any family that I knew about until I came here. I get what you’re saying about puzzles. Suddenly things about my mom and her upbringing make a little more sense.”
“Things like your name?”
“My name?”
He grins and leans in a little closer. My heart skips. “Clearly she named you after her favorite time of year—the one time she felt happiest.”
I frown. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
I’d never thought about it much—I just figured she liked the name or something—but like with everything else, there’s intent and meaning. The naming of her only child would be no different.
It’s a revelation and I find myself gazing at his face, his lips and eyes. We’re in this moment alone, away from the sing-song voice of the storyteller and the stuffy rules of the librarian. We’re quiet. So very quiet.
Can he hear my heart beating? No? Just me?
“I heard you’ve been asking about our pact.” He’s close enough I can smell the mint on his breath.
“You guys gossip like school girls, you know that?” Heat runs up my neck at being caught.
He smiles slowly. “We’re tight. And it’s okay. If you’re going to get involved with the four of us, you should know what you’re getting into.”
My stomach tightens at the insinuation. And I have a heightened awareness he’s the only one I haven’t kissed. It would be so easy to do it now.
He licks his bottom lip and he knows it, too.
“Thank you, Margorie,” I hear over the stacks of books. Nick straightens and poof, the moment vanishes. “You’ve been incredibly helpful.”
With my heart still hammering I walk down the aisle, all too aware of the boy behind me.
It’s a long car ride home and I realize that Nick and I barely spoke a word on the way back from Conway until we dropped him at the edge of the road that leads to Richard’s house.
“It looks like it may rain,” Mom says, glancing out the window toward the island. The sky is dark and ominous. I guess there goes my date to the beach. On cue, my phone buzzes as we turn into our gravel drive.
“That thing never stops,” she says.
“It’s just the girls,” I lie. “Updating me on their trip. They leave in a couple of days.”
Truthfully, I haven’t heard from the girls since the random call from Catherine the other day.
Even Mason has fallen off the radar. All of the texts today came from Justin.
The sneaky bastard’s working his way into my heart, with silly photos and stupid messages.
It’s easier to lie than admit this to my mother after her drunken confession about the Hawkins men.
I slip the phone into my purse on the floor, knowing already he’s reminding me about tonight. His eagerness is endearing.
“The girls, huh?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. Justin waits outside the camper, lounging on the patio chairs and messing with his phone.
I give her a sheepish grin and get out of the car. Justin’s already out of his chair and I smile at the expectant look on his face. He’s happy to see me. A low rumble of thunder interrupts me saying hello.
“Good afternoon, Justin,” my mother says from behind me.
“Ma’am,” he says, showing his southern roots. “Make any progress on the book today?”
“Not as much as I’d like,” she says. “But I’ve got some notes to transcribe.”
Mom disappears into the trailer, leaving the two of us alone. His hand finds mine the moment she’s gone. I notice he’s showered and changed already. The damp ends of his faux-hawk blow in the wind. “Thought you had to work late,” I say.
“I know the boss and checked out early. Is that okay?”
“Yep,” I say. “I’m guessing though that date on the beach isn’t going to happen.”
“There are other things we can do.”
“Like what?” I suspect I know the answer to that.
“My place?” he suggests.
The pit of my stomach warms and I really want to say yes. “That sounds nice…”
“But?”
I shrug, not wanting to make excuses or offend him. “Show me around instead. Take me somewhere local and fun.”
He laughs and says, “You realize where we are, right? Nothing much around here but touristy things.”
“Come on,” I say. “Show me where you go with the guys. Or where you’d take a local girl on a date if a massive thunderstorm was on the way.”
“Really?”
“Sure, I want the insider’s track to Ocean Beach.”
“If you say so,” he says, still looking skeptical. “Go get ready. I’ll wait out here.”
“Ten minutes,” I say, leaving him under the canopy as the first drops of rain start to fall.
The storm rages hard enough outside that I can hear the thunder over the pinball machines, although the two kids fighting over foosball in the corner are making enough racket to compete.
The air is greasy and everything has a fishy, fried smell, but the basket of fries between us tastes like heaven.
“Do you eat hot sauce on everything?” he asks, dipping a fry into his own glob of ketchup.
“Duh. It’s delicious.”
“Gross.”
“Ketchup is gross. It’s all sugar and tomatoes. Barf.” We smile at one another over the dingy, hard booth in the corner of an arcade-snack shop. I asked for the real Ocean Beach. Apparently, this is it. “So this is where you take your local girls, huh?”
He swallows a bite of hamburger and wipes his mouth. “Oh definitely, you know, if we didn’t meet here in the first place.”
“Wait, like, you picked girls up here?” I gave him the side-eye.
“Yeah, this is the hot place to find a girl—especially a tourist type. They love to hook up with a townie.” He flashes me a charming grin. “It’s like fulfilling some summer romance thing for them.”
He gestures over to the foosball table and sure enough, there are two girls, dressed a little nice for an arcade, eyeing the boys showing off. No wonder they were making all that noise. It’s like some kind of adolescent mating call.
“You’re saying you had some kind of notch on your bed post scam going on? Like, how many girls could you bang in a summer?” I’m half kidding. Not really angry, but a little curious. Am I one of those girls?
He shoots me a serious look. “First of all, yeah, I always chased tourist tail. All of us did. The townie girls around here want babies and a trailer before high school graduation. You know that isn’t in our plans.
This way we met girls from all over the country, hung out a little, asked a lot of questions and sure, hooked up with a couple. ”
“Okay, I get that,” I say, but then narrow my eyes. “How many is a couple?”
“A few?” he dodges, that same damn smile creeping back. “Some of the girls I kept in touch with. Social media and stuff.”
“Ah, a few managed to be more than a summer fling? What about the pact?”
“I don’t know. As much as it could be when you live hundreds of miles apart and the minute they step out of this place you no longer have anything in common.
” He lifts his shoulders with a hint of wistfulness and I realize he probably really did like some of them.
Maybe that’s another reason they made the pact in the first place. Easier to move on.
“Tell me, Mr. Hawkins, if you and I met here one rainy summer night, how would that go?” I bat my eyelashes at him playfully.
He raises an eyebrow. “Well, we all had our special talents. Nick would go outside and talk about the stars and moon on the bench out front. He’s the romantic. And Pete would talk about music, dropping knowledge all over the place.”
“And Whit?”
“Whit doesn’t have to do anything. Girls just flock around him. He could fuck a different tourist every night and no one would blink.”
Hmmm… “And you?”
“I had a whole system. First I would show off my mad skills on the KISS pinball machine over there.” He jerks his thumb toward the corner. “Then once I got your interest I would cuss a little to show how tough I am.”
“Really? That works?”
“Oh yeah. Every time. Girls like a guy with a filthy mouth.”
“If you say so…then what?”
“Then I’d flash you a smile.” He flashes me a killer, stomach-twisting smile. “And ask your name and where you were from. All while checking you out.”
I remember the day we met at the camp ground. The way his eyes roamed over my soap and shampoo-covered body.
“Then,” he says. “I’d chat you up a bit and start to make my move.” Like a cat, Justin moves fluidly from his seat across the table and slides in next to me. His arm snakes over my shoulder and I find myself drawn to his smell and his warmth, instinctively moving into his side.
“And then, we’d spend the rest of the night making out in that corner over there.” He points to a darkened spot behind the video games.
I sit up and make a face. “Are you kidding?”
“Nope. I mean, you said if it was raining. Normally I’d take a girl to the beach or something and try my luck. But here? That’s the spot.”
“Gross,” I say, but I already know if he asked me to make out in that corner I’d probably go.
“You know, I’m not really that guy anymore.” His eyes are on my lips and I can feel his fingers touching the skin on the back of my neck. “None of us are.”
“No?” I swallow hard and then say, “Because I’m totally that girl who would let you make out with me pressed against the wall of a stinky arcade.”
He breaks into the most glorious smile and among the kitchen noises, video games and shouting kids, I lean in and kiss him.
It’s not quite a make-out and it’s definitely PG, but his lips are soft and salty from the fries and I lick them for the taste.
It’s a moment I can’t describe, probably caught in time; the thunderstorm outside, the blinking lights from the game.
I feel like a normal girl kissing a normal guy in the middle of summer vacation.
It’s the best feeling I’ve had in a long, long time.