Chapter 4 #4
Relieved, she leaned back and used one hand to smooth her ponytail, her hair hot on her palm from the sun. “I prefer the 3
Series.”
“This is a weird world, I’ll give you that. People are rich rich. I’m still getting used to it. I guess it doesn’t faze you anymore.”
“I guess.”
“You’ve also probably gotten to know the members pretty well by now, too, huh? Have you been here a long time? You know the
Greenes, Crawleys?” He paused. “Joshua Mike?”
Augie felt confused by his tone, which felt suddenly unnatural—but before she could respond, a trail of bees zoomed between
them.
“Oh, shit.” Chat waved an arm as another swarm whooshed past.
“Oh, god.” Augie pushed away, her chair falling as she stood. And then—because she deserved it, she’d later tell herself—she
felt a searing pain on the back of her neck.
“I knew that would happen.” She bent forward in pain as Chat rushed around the table. Before she could fight him, she felt
his fingers against her neck. It was strange how quickly pain could be displaced by want.
“Hold still.”
Augie sensed his body behind her, and she wanted to close the inches between them, but she forced herself not to move.
“It’s best to get the stinger out right away. I see it, don’t move.”
Slowly, Augie felt a growing pressure, a quick pinch. The air went cold as Chat moved away, holding up the stinger.
“Got it,” he said proudly. “You okay?”
They were both behind the table now, anchoring the spread of snacks and drinks. Augie ran her hand over her neck, feeling
the swollen mound. She felt pathetic, flustered, and suffused by an almost nauseating need for Chat to touch her again.
“You know, bees die as soon as they sting, so at least you won.”
Augie’s throat tightened, a reaction that did not stem from the sting itself. “I’m good.”
“You sure?” Chat flicked the stinger onto the ground. “Let me see.” He reached to the table to grab one of the waters she’d removed from the cooler. “Come here.”
The bottle was cool and crisp as Chat pressed it to her neck, and Augie was disappearing into the bliss of the cold and the
closeness of Chat when, out of nowhere, he lurched away, the bottle dropping between them. She stepped forward to regain her
balance, grabbing at her wet skin. She watched in confusion as Chat rushed to the other side of the table.
“Sorry.” He gathered the food. “I hope you’re okay. I have to go. She has rules about being . . . distracted, at the Club—when
I’m with the boys.” He winced and raised a shoulder as Augie saw what he was talking about: Across the pool, Mrs. Crawley
and Max opened the gate.
“Keep icing.” He backed away. “It was nice to see you, Augie. Really. I’ll see you.”
Augie couldn’t resist watching him—them. Mrs. Crawley looked even more stunning than usual. She wore a black linen romper,
a large straw hat, and designer sunglasses Augie knew cost more than a full week of work. Her dark blond hair was loose and
wavy, her smile paper white as Chat reached out and took Max from her. Augie watched their mouths move and noticed Chat gesture
to Cooper with the Birch kids while raising the bagels—an explanation.
As the meet continued, Augie stared down at the table, the snacks, her job. You’re fine, she whispered, willing herself not to look up. She was glad when Mallory Harrison and her daughter, Gigi, suddenly appeared,
asking for granola bars, forcing her to be cheerful.
Augie tried to ignore the pull of Chat and Mrs. Crawley across the pool, but she couldn’t quell her curiosity. What rules had he been talking about? Why did he seem so indebted to her? Augie couldn’t wait to talk to Leah about it. Maybe Mrs. Crawley really did keep him in a cage.
It all bothered Augie on a more personal level, too. It felt like he had chosen Mrs. Crawley over her. She knew that was ridiculous—babysitting
was his job, and Augie had heard about how Cooper had gone missing at the start of summer—but it still made her feel second
rate. They had finally been talking. Touching. Shouldn’t he have wanted to stay?
Stop, stop, stop, Augie scolded herself. It was for the best that he’d left. She was working, too. Don’t look up. What’s 49 times 12?
She only made it three more math problems before, finally, as she lifted a piece of ice to her swollen neck, she also lifted
her eyes.
It was unfair how beautiful Mrs. Crawley looked, then and always. She was a stock standard model of beauty: tall, curves in
the right places, but she also had something unique about her, an extra-perfect dimension to her eye to nose to mouth ratio—a
face like a well-cut diamond. Augie felt a growing sense of envy and disdain as she watched her settle into her pool chair
while Chat brought Cooper and Max to the tadpole pool. She looked mesmerizing as she rubbed sunscreen into her long arms and
legs, as she shook out the boys’ towels and leaned back, raising a knee.
Augie continued watching as if hypnotized, and she had no idea how long she’d been staring—did not even register she still
was staring—when Mrs. Crawley suddenly sat up, lifted her sunglasses, and, as they locked eyes, Mrs. Crawley raised her arm,
fluttering her fingers in a wave.