29. Now
NOW
T here’s a small reception after the ceremony for Danny’s House.
Caleb, Beck, and Harrison are here, as handsome as ever but world weary now.
Caleb has some kind of tech company, Beck’s still at the bar, and Harrison’s an attorney.
Somehow, I’d pictured them happier in adulthood than they are, and it was kind of them to come out for this on a workday, especially when they live to the north, but I sort of wish they hadn’t.
That New York Times reporter seems to be roving from group to group.
She’ll get to them eventually, and God knows what they’ll say.
“It was a nice ceremony,” Harrison says. “Danny would love this. And it’s a much better way to remember him than…” He trails off.
“Than what?” I demand, my voice sharper than I intended.
His eyes widen. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. But you know…the night he died, he just wasn’t himself. He argued with Luke, he—”
“He was drinking,” I say firmly.
They’re too polite to point out that the bad mood came first.
“Well, anyway, I’d like to remind you all that I’m the one who said Juliet and Luke would be famous,” Caleb announces with a grin.
“Anyone who heard Juliet sing knew she’d be famous,” Beck counters. “But Luke, not so much. That asshole still can’t surf.”
My eyes widen until I hear Luke’s laughter behind me.
“True,” Luke says. “But I still surf better than you, Beck.”
They shake hands, and I’m about to excuse myself when Luke clears his throat. “But in all seriousness, I guess I’ve got one of you guys to thank. Those boards I was able to buy from the GoFundMe donation made all this possible. So, who was it? Which of you fronted the three grand?”
They all look at each other, confused.
“Believe me, I’d be taking all the credit now if it was me, but I was working as an unpaid intern,” says Harrison. He turns to Caleb. “Was it you?”
Caleb’s brow furrows. “Where the hell would I have gotten a spare three thousand dollars, asshole? I was working as a lifeguard .”
They both look at Beck, and Caleb laughs. “We know it wasn’t you . You were borrowing gas money from us .”
“It had to be one of you guys,” Luke says. “Juliet made this big, embarrassing announcement around the bonfire basically insisting everyone donate, and the money was in there a few hours later.”
They look at each other, and then Luke looks at me, and I see something shift in his face. A question, one he dismisses then calls back. “She had no money , ” he’s telling himself. “It would have taken every penny she had.”
“I’d better check on Donna,” I say with a forced smile. “I’ll see you guys at the gala, right?”
I don’t even remain long enough to hear their answer. I cross the yard toward Donna, who’s talking to a stunning woman in a nicely tailored suit. I realize, belatedly, that the girl is Summer, all grown up. She’s ditched the bleached blonde hair and heavy self-tanner, lost a little of the baby fat.
Is she here for Luke? She always liked him, and I’m pretty sure they slept together. Of course she’s here for Luke.
She throws her arms around me. “You’re more gorgeous than ever,” she says, then turns to Donna. “I was so jealous of Juliet, back in the day. She was the only girl in the group that was taken, and she was still the one they all wanted.”
My smile falters. “That’s not true. But anyway—”
“Oh, it was definitely true. My God, the way they all mooned over you at night. And then you started singing and it was game over for me and Rain.”
My gaze darts to Donna, wondering if she knows what Summer’s really saying. It wasn’t that everyone wanted me, it’s that Luke did.
“Just look at all of them over there,” she continues. “How did they manage to get even more attractive?”
I glance at Luke across the yard, in a blue shirt, now slightly unbuttoned, tie loosened. He’s so lovely. She wants another shot. How could she not?
And in the meantime, the reporter is with Libby and Grady, and Luke’s talking to the prep school guys about that donation. I’m beginning to think this day can’t get worse.
“So good to see you,” I tell Summer, squeezing her hand as I walk away. I want to stop everything that’s happening right now. I want to pull a fire alarm or call in a bomb threat, and I know as I walk into the house, frantic and lost, that even those things might not stop what’s already in motion.
I go to the kitchen and sink into a seat.
I fucked up, during that interview. I fucked up by refusing to mention Luke when she was bound to find out that he lived here with us for two summers.
It’s highly suspicious, that omission of mine, a neon sign saying, “Check out this clue I’ve left for you. ”
I close my eyes and press my face to my hands, briefly imagining that I didn’t come back to Rhodes in the first place, imagining all the choices I could have made that would have led to a different outcome.
And finally, I let myself dream of the outcome that was always the most improbable, the one I fall asleep to at night during my weakest moments.
The one I’d have given up almost anything for and still would: Luke and I, together, swaying in a hammock outside the beach house we share.
“You’re sure you don’t want to go to Paris for spring break?” he asks.
The breeze from the ocean ruffles his hair, and I reach up to push a hand through it. “I’m sure.” I can’t imagine anything better than where we are because I’ve seen the entire world now, and it was meaningless without him.
“Juliet?”
I startle, my head jerking up, resentful that I’ve been pulled out of my reverie, guilty I was there in the first place.
The reporter stands there, her head tilted, her eyes slightly narrowed.
She followed me into my fucking home . She must be feeling pretty sure of herself to just walk in here after me.
“Yes?” I ask, rising, my voice brusque. A you-have-no-right-to-be-here voice, as if this woman has ever cared about boundaries.
“It was a very nice service,” she says, but there’s something more guarded in her demeanor than there was the night we met. “I’m surprised you never mentioned Luke Taylor lived here too. Especially given how close you were.”
I lick my lips and smooth my dress, stalling for time. “Whether or not Luke wants to discuss living here is his business, not mine. It didn’t seem like it was my place. And we were hardly ‘ close ’.”
She raises a brow. “He was in several altercations on your behalf. Sounds pretty close to me.”
Altercations, she said. Plural . Who even knows about most of them except him and me? This has gone off the fucking rails and all I can do is deny it. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. If Luke got into any fight because of me, he was doing it on Danny’s behalf, not mine.”
“So you’re denying you were close,” she states. “Even though you were the one who begged him not to make that risky jump right before Danny died.”
Who told you that? I guess it could have been anyone. It might have even come from the police interviews when it happened.
“Several of us begged Luke not to make that jump,” I snap. “I wasn’t even the first. I can’t imagine how any of this is relevant to an article about Danny’s House, and you agreed the article wouldn’t focus on Danny’s death.”
She gives me a thin smile. “The article is about you , Juliet. And to be honest, the most striking thing I’ve found so far is how desperate you are not to talk about Danny.”
I stare at her, my mouth dry.
I was so careful for so many years and now I’ve ruined everything. I just keep making it worse.
I walk past her, flinging the door open. “Because I don’t want the speculation to hurt Donna. And this is still a private residence,” I say over my shoulder, stepping over the threshold, “so get the fuck out of here before I call the cops.”
Outside, the crowd is dispersing. I’m relieved to see that Libby and Grady are gone. Donna stands with Luke, Summer, and the rest of the guys. I’ve got no choice but to join them.
Luke glances at me. “There’s a new bar at the beach. We’re all driving over there. You want to go?”
I have no desire to listen to them rehash the past while Luke studies me, trying to find something in the words I don’t say, the answers I don’t offer.
“No thanks,” I reply stiffly.
“You should,” he says, looking to Donna for help. “You’ve barely left.”
But Donna simply smiles at him. “Go ahead, Luke. We’ll have a nice night in, just the two of us. I think Summer needs a ride though, don’t you?”
“Yes,” says Summer, brightening. “My sister dropped me off. Do you mind?”
Luke glances at me once more before he shakes his head. “No, of course not.”
“That’s nice, seeing them together,” Donna says as Luke and Summer walk away. “Don’t you think they’re a good match?”
No. I don’t think that. Not at all. I feel like I’m going to be sick.
“She’s not really his type.”
“What do you mean? She’s gorgeous. And doesn’t she surf too?”
Yes, and she’ll have her hand on his fly before they’ve even got their seat belts on. “I don’t know.”
“Oh, honey,” Donna says, hugging me from the side, misinterpreting my tone. “You know what it’s like to be in love. You’ve had that. Don’t you think Luke deserves that too?”
Yes. Yes, he does. And I want him to be happy. I want him to move on. But I don’t want to watch it happen.
* * *
Donna and I snack on leftovers from the reception in lieu of dinner and watch several dumb sitcoms with laugh tracks.
And the whole time, I stew. Luke’s been gone for a long time.
Caleb and Harrison have wives now—I doubt they’re still out drinking—and Beck owns a fucking bar… he probably had to leave for work.
So it’s just Luke and newly gorgeous Summer, reliving old times on the beach or in the back of his truck.
Donna goes to her room and I go to mine, and I hate myself for the fact that, on this day, when we celebrated Danny, I’m only thinking of Luke. I wonder if Danny is somewhere witnessing this, and if he’s as disgusted with me as I am with myself.
Eventually, I hear Luke in the hall. I wait for him to go through his night-time routine, the sounds I’ve memorized: toilet flushing, water running, lights switched off, his retreating footsteps. Instead, my door opens and closes.
He sits at the end of my bed and puts his hand on my leg. “I know you’re awake,” he says quietly.
I say nothing until I’m sure my voice will hold up. “Did you kiss her?”
Silence.
“Get out,” I hiss, but he does not.
He pulls the sheet down, stretches out over me, and lets his weight push me into the mattress as he whispers in my ear. “Would it bother you if I did?”
“Get out,” I growl, and attempt to throw him off, but he doesn’t move at all.
“Answer the question.”
“No,” I snap. “It wouldn’t bother me.”
“You’re a liar.” His hand slides beneath the sheet, up my thigh, beneath my shorts. “I thought so.” He laughs, and I stiffen as his fingers slide inside me.
“Get out,” I hiss for the third time, but he’s already removing my shorts.
“I didn’t kiss her,” he says, sliding down the bed, his hands on the inside of my thighs, pressing them open. His tongue flickers between my legs.
I gasp, and there’s a huff of breath against my clit as he laughs. It infuriates and excites me at the same time, and it barely takes him two minutes to make me come exactly the way he knew I would, arching upward, digging my hands in his hair.
He climbs back up my body, shoving his pants down, already certain I won’t say no to this either.
“Admit you were jealous.” He pushes inside me.
I meet his gaze and say nothing, but I grip him tight just in case he’s considering walking away.
“Admit you’re the one who gave me the money,” he says, his mouth running over my neck, his hand sliding beneath my tank to pinch my nipple. I arch into him, wanting more.
His hand fists in my hair. “You’re still in love with me,” he says, thrusting harder.
I clench around him. I’m so close to coming. I’m so close to breaking open in a hundred different ways.
Yes, I was jealous. Yes, I made that donation. Yes, I’m still in love with you.
Those words swirl inside me, begging for release. I bite my lip as I come to keep them from escaping.