Chapter 4
Micah Barrett
I strum my guitar and grab my pencil to write down a chord.
A melody has been running through my head, and I need to get it down before it leaves me.
I stick my pencil in my mouth and pick out a few notes.
As I’m working, a knock comes from my bedroom door.
Well, not my bedroom. The guest bedroom in Cricket’s basement.
“Micah?”
“Come in,” I say around the pencil in my mouth. I try a different chord, which sounds better.
Cricket comes in wearing a pink sundress I’ve never seen her wear before. She turns to both sides. “I just bought this, but it looked better on me in the store. Does it make me look fat?”
“What? No. You look fine.”
She comes over and takes the pencil out of my mouth. She holds it out like it has slobber all over it, which it does not. “I couldn’t hear a word you said.”
I snatch my pencil from her hand. “I said you’re not fat, and you look fine. Why are you wearing a dress? Is there something going on today?”
Cricket shrugs. “I wanted a change. Hey, River texted. I’m going to meet him at Centennial Park in a few minutes. If you’re too busy with your music, I can show him around Willow Shade by myself.”
I pull my strap over my head and set the guitar in its case. “No, I’m not busy. Just finishing up here. I’ll go with.”
She slow blinks at me. “It’s fine if you’d rather stay here.”
I grit my teeth and stand. There’s no way I’m letting Cricket be alone with that guy before I’ve vetted him. “It’s all good. I’m coming.”
“Okay, fine. Get ready. We’re leaving in five minutes.” She turns and walks out.
“I was born ready,” I call to her.
She sticks her head back into view. “You were born ready to mess up my date with River?”
“Yep,” I say, emphasizing the p sound.
She sticks out her tongue and disappears around the corner. I chuckle under my breath as I slip on a pair of shoes. I grab a jacket since the forecast said the temperature would be dipping into the fifties today.
Ten minutes later, Cricket and I drive to Centennial Park. River is sitting on a bench near the fountain, scrolling through his phone. When he sees us, he stands and waves.
“Hey!” River calls out, jogging over to us. He’s wearing khakis and a button-down shirt with a pair of sunglasses hanging from the middle that probably costs more than my entire wardrobe. “Thanks for doing this. I really appreciate the local tour.”
Cricket beams at him. “Of course!”
River points to the lighthouse. “Was that a working lighthouse at one time?”
I hold in a snort, because this man has obviously never seen a real lighthouse before. How could he ask such a ridiculous question?
Cricket politely shakes her head. “No, it’s a replica, but kids love climbing to the top. It was built to look like the old lighthouse that used to be on the north end of the island before it was torn down in the 1960s.”
“That’s cool. Can we go inside it?”
“Sure.” Cricket starts in that direction, and River falls into step beside her. I trail along behind them. Why did I insist on coming? This is going to be stupid. I feel like a backup singer who just realized I’m not even in the song.
Cricket points to the top. “Local legend says if you make a wish at the top and ring the little bell they put up there, it’ll come true. Of course, half the island has made wishes there, so either the bell isn’t very powerful or it’s very selective.”
River grins at Cricket. “That sounds like a fun tradition.”
They enter the lighthouse, but I hang back, not in the mood to go up and watch them make wishes.
Cricket doesn’t even stop to ask why I’m not following them.
I kick at a dandelion and listen to her giggles in response to something I can’t hear him say.
Stupid lighthouse. Maybe I should have gone up there.
Changing my mind, I sprint up the stairs.
When I get to the top, River is already ringing the bell, and I’m out of breath. He smiles down at Cricket. “Think my wish will come true?”
She blushes. “It might.”
I lean against the railing beside him and try to act like I’m not panting. “Probably won’t. My wishes never come true.”
River’s grin widens. “I don’t know. I have a feeling about this one.”
Ugh. I feel like jumping off the lighthouse so I don’t have to hear River and Cricket flirting anymore. It’s. So. Cheesy.
After we look out at the ocean for what feels like an eternity with River and Cricket making googly eyes at each other, I start down the steps, and thankfully, Cricket follows.
“Where should we go next?” River asks from behind Cricket.
I clear my throat. “Well, there’s the marina a couple of blocks away. Good views, local fishing boats. Very authentic Willow Shade experience.”
“That sounds perfect,” River says.
As we walk toward the marina, River gestures around at the quaint island streets. “This place has such character.”
“Where are you staying?” Cricket asks.
“The Seaside Inn downtown. Nice old place. I love the architecture.”
I look over my shoulder at him. “There’s a ghost there, you know.”
His eyebrows shoot up. “A ghost?”
Cricket’s eyes light up. I know she loves this story. “Oh, that’s Mrs. Weatherby! She lived in the penthouse suite for like thirty years. She died there. The locals say she only wants to make sure guests are comfortable. If your television turns on in the middle of the night, that’s her.”
“Right,” River says, though he doesn’t sound entirely convinced. “Just what everyone needs—a helpful ghost messing with the television.”
“They say you can hear her walking around at night.” Cricket’s face is dead serious. She totally believes in ghosts.
“All right. I’ll listen for her then.” River chuckles, and I wait for Cricket to blast him for not really believing, but she doesn’t say anything.
I turn around and gape at her. She’s smiling at him? Why isn’t she fighting with him like she does when I tell her the sounds are just the old structure settling?
We reach the marina, and I spot some small stones scattered along the water’s edge, perfect for skipping.
Because of the breakwaters, the water in the marina is still enough to skip stones.
Levi was the master at it, and I begged him to teach me as a kid.
I’ve always envied his talent for it. I’ve practiced a lot, and once I got a rock to skip, like, four times.
“Hey, want to see something cool?” I say, bending down to select a smooth, flat stone. I hope I can repeat my four-skip as I walk to the edge of the water. “Watch me skip this stone.”
Cricket steps closer to me. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
I position myself in relation to the water, pointing.
“See, it’s all about the angle and the spin.
You want to throw it parallel to the water surface, with a good flick of the wrist.” I demonstrate the motion without releasing the stone.
“The physics are actually pretty interesting,” I continue.
“It’s about hydrodynamics and surface tension. ” At least, that’s what Levi told me.
River nods politely. “Sounds like you know what you’re doing.”
Cricket slaps my back. “Micah’s good at everything.”
That makes me smile. Does she really think that? I draw my arm back and release the stone with what I think is perfect form. It hits the water and immediately plunks straight down with a pathetic splash.
“Huh,” I say, staring at the spot where my stone disappeared. “That was… weird. Must have been a bad stone.”
River chuckles. “Mind if I try?” He casually picks up a stone without even examining it closely.
“Sure,” I say, confident that an actor from the city won’t know the first thing about stone skipping.
River seems to barely aim before flicking his wrist. The stone sails across the water, skipping six times before finally disappearing in the distance.
“Nice one,” Cricket says, clearly impressed.
I stare at the water, my jaw slightly open. “How did you… have you done this before?”
“Not really,” River says with a shrug. “Beginner’s luck, I guess.”
I grab another stone, this time inspecting it more carefully for the perfect weight and flatness. “Let me try again. That first one definitely had a rough edge.”
I manage two pathetic skips before it sinks. Nothing like River’s perfect six-skip.
River picks up another stone and effortlessly sends it dancing across the water for what looks like eight skips.
“Okay, what’s your secret?” I ask, trying not to sound as frustrated as I feel.
“I honestly don’t know,” River says. “My dad used to take me to lakes when I was little. He could have taught me, and I’ve forgotten. Maybe muscle memory kicked in.”
Cricket is watching River closely, her eyes shining. “That’s amazing. I can barely get one skip.”
“Here, let me show you,” River says, moving closer to Cricket. He hands her a stone and positions himself behind her to guide her throwing motion.
I watch them, feeling increasingly useless. My one chance to show off my island skills, and this Hollywood pretty boy makes it look effortless. Plus I gave him the perfect reason to put his arms around Cricket. I’m an idiot.