Chapter 23
The end-of-summer luau used to be at the end of summer—the last week of August, right before Labor Day—but people complained
it interfered with the state fair and the start of school. Now, it was a full month earlier, the last weekend of July. They
colloquially called it The-Beginning-of-the-End-of-Summer Luau. It made Augie roll her eyes.
Augie hated working the luau. It was exhausting. Every member made a point to be there. Kids and nannies were included, and
everyone dressed as if it were a competition. Women cryptically discussed their outfits all summer long, as if it were the
Met Gala.
Of course, this year, Augie was dreading it more than normal. She’d asked Aida if there was any way she could take it off,
but she knew the answer. Over two hundred people had RSVPed, and because last year people had complained about the crowded
bar stations and bad DJ, Mr. Dryer was under extra pressure.
The only silver lining was that everyone would be working. Mr. Dryer had even called in Zami to help with the pig roast. Leah and Wyatt would be there, too. She joked
she was her dad’s date because Robin was again out of town.
Still, no one could distract from the fact that Augie would finally have to face Chat and the Crawleys. The luau would mark one week since she’d been to the Crawleys’ house—one week since she’d spoken to Chat at all.
Leah and Augie were back to talking about them nonstop. Especially after Leah assured Augie she enjoyed it—that she lived
for this type of gossip.
She’d even told Augie to come hash everything out in person. So one evening, they sat at the pool at dusk, dangling their
feet in the water, going over the same pieces of information: how Mrs. Crawley had bragged about watching hockey in Europe,
how she’d said her necklace was from Latvia—from an ex.
And then: how Chat had said his uncle lived in Latvia, played hockey there—that Danika had been divorced.
“It’s all too coincidental not to be connected,” Augie had repeated as she pushed her feet back and forth in the water, watching
the ripples spread across the surface. “But it’s also like, who is lying? Why? If Danika was with Chat’s uncle, why not tell people they know each other? It would make the whole manny thing
less weird.” She stopped moving her feet. “Do you think they were actually married? That he was her ex-husband?”
“Well, if so, at least we know they’re not hooking up. If she really was his uncle’s ex-wife. Chat’s ex-aunt?” Leah made a face.
It didn’t feel right to Augie either; the chemistry between Danika and Chat seemed too strange to be simply familial.
Augie made sure to tell Leah how much she appreciated her help, knowing Leah was going to spend hours stalking Danika, Trey,
Chat’s family, even if they kept hitting dead ends. So far, the only people they could find online were his twin sisters.
“Hey, at least now we know they have a bunny,” Leah had said, holding up her phone to show a photo of the girls cradling a black-and-white rabbit. Mr. Bun Bun, Augie remembered.
Augie craned back, looked up at the fading blue sky. Despite the dearth of information, and how depressed she felt about Chat,
she still sensed they were on the cusp of something. She didn’t understand it yet, but for once, her instincts felt right.
They had to keep looking.
Still, they didn’t have much luck over the week, and the day before the luau, Leah told Augie she was giving up. That Augie
had to talk to him in person—to get answers from the source.
You know he’s going to find you at the luau, Leah had texted. There’s no way he’ll pretend you’re not there.
Augie disagreed. Even if she hadn’t been on the LinkedIn app—and had no idea if he’d messaged—he’d clearly chosen sides.
Remember: I’m against “the rules.”
Leah had sent back an eye-rolling emoji. He definitely wants to talk to you.
Augie was just glad she was successfully ignoring him. She’d even made progress on her checklists. With her new resolve, she
had flagged five not-horrible jobs, and for the first time, she was genuinely excited about one of them: a nonprofit in DC
that helped start-up companies with a focus on immigrant businesses. This aligned well with her previous work with Hyla. She’d
love the chance to help people through advertising, rather than the New Jersey Lottery. Regardless, when she got to the part
where she had to list references, she felt stuck. She couldn’t include anyone from New York—and wouldn’t it be strange not
to? But she was so exasperated by everything, before she could stop herself, she wrote down Aida’s name and contact info and
hit send.