Chapter 32
THIRTY-TWO
HALLIE
TEN YEARS AGO
Packing up my whole life was easier than I thought it would be. I’ve never been one to hold on to belongings. Mostly because I hate taking up more space than absolutely necessary. But I didn’t truly realize how plain my life has been until this moment.
It’s better this way, though. Now I can reinvent myself in the city without my past dragging me down. The only things I’ll really miss about this island are Pops and Clara.
And Gabe .
Not being able to see Clara regularly will take some getting used to, but so will missing him. He’s been a constant in my life since kindergarten. We’ll talk, I’m sure, but it won’t be the same.
My phone burns a hole in my pocket, a reminder of the texts we exchanged earlier.
He wants to tell me something. My stupid heart has been racing since, getting carried away with all sorts of fanciful ideas.
Like maybe he feels the same way about me as I do him. Like maybe he likes me. Loves me, even.
He almost kissed you at the fair last year.
But he hasn’t tried since. What if he realized it was a mistake? That he didn’t actually want to?
My brain is a hard place to be when it’s playing tug of war with itself. It’s a game I can never win. The only hope I have of pulling myself from the toxic cycle is distracting my mind until there’s no room left for arguing.
I fold another shirt and shove it into my suitcase. Running my fingers over the material, I smile softly. Gabe let me borrow it once when we went swimming and I forgot a coverup. I never intended to keep it, but…
Raised voices travel up the stairs, instantly turning my mood sour. I open my bedroom door and head out into the hallway. Leaning over the banister, I peer down toward the foyer. Pops stands in front of the stairs, talking to my mother.
I haven’t seen her in months. The last time she blew through town, she took me out to dinner, and then she stole all the money in my wallet. I didn’t find out until she was already long gone. At least she had the decency to cover the bill before she left.
“Mandy, please don’t do this,” Pops pleads. “Don’t ruin this for her.”
Mom sneers. “I’m not ruining anything, Dad. I’m here to see my baby before she heads off to her fancy new school and decides she’s too good for us small-town folk.”
“Amanda—”
“Mom?” I come down the stairs, letting them both know I’m there. I hate being talked about like I’m not.
My mother smiles, but there’s something off about it. Her smiles never seem sincere. Maybe because she’s never truly been happy as long as I’ve been alive. “Hallie, there you are. Your grandfather said you were out.”
When I look at Pops, his expression is full of apology. It’s okay , I tell him silently. He does what he can to shield me from her, but she’s my mom. I can’t cut her out entirely.
“I was at Clara’s,” I lie. I’ve been home all day. “I guess he didn’t hear me come back. How long are you in town for?”
“Not long.” She raises a brow. “Well, aren’t you gonna come give your mama a hug?”
I descend the stairs, then let her pull me against her. Like always, she smells of cigarettes and vanilla body spray. Sometimes liquor, if she’s dating a heavy drinker at the time.
“Do you want some lunch?” I ask. “I was just about to make some.”
“Now that you mention it, I could use something to eat,” she says.
We all head into the kitchen, and my mom plunks herself down at the table. Pops tries to help me, but I shoo him away to sit down. I need a minute to myself, to prepare to spend a whole meal with her. At least my wallet is upstairs this time.
I make us some sandwiches, and when I set them down, Mom wastes no time digging in. Conversation is stilted. There are so many topics I avoid talking about with her because I know from experience they’ll only cause a fight. My leaving for school, for example.
Another thing I avoid is my art. That’s mine and mine alone. I don’t even share it with Pops.
After lunch, Pops and I wash the dishes. We have a dishwasher, but we like the routine of washing and drying by hand when we both have the time. I’m going to miss our routines when I’m gone.
Once the dishes are clean, I head to the bathroom. But when I get back to the kitchen, I stop short. Mom has her face buried in my phone. She must have guessed my password.
“What are you doing?”
She flashes the screen at me, showing me the text thread I have with Gabe. “What’s this?”
Gabriel
Meet me at the tree tonight? I wanna tell you something.
Can’t you just tell me now?
Gabriel
Later. It’s better in person.
Okay. I’ll see you later, then.
I try to pull my phone out of her hand, but she brings her arm back, just out of reach.
“Give it back!” My cheeks flame. “That’s private.”
She holds my phone up. “Does your little friend know you’re sneaking around with her brother?”
Guilt sinks to the bottom of my stomach like an anchor. I cross my arms, my shoulders curving. “We’re not sneaking! We’re not doing anything.”
Even to my own ears, I don’t sound convincing, but it’s the truth. Gabe and I haven’t done anything. We may have come close to kissing once, but that’s it.
Mom shakes her head. “It’s not worth it, Hallie. He’ll just turn around and cut you loose when he gets what he wants. When he decides you’re not worth the trouble.”
A tear slips down my cheek. “Gabe’s not like that. He’s sweet.”
She snorts. “Listen, I’m just trying to save you some heartache. Because you are exactly like your mama, and men don’t stay with women like us.”
I blink, almost in slow motion, as her words hit me. When I was younger, I heard some of her boyfriends call her damaged and toxic . They wouldn’t hang around much longer after that.
And people are always saying how alike we are. I used to think it a compliment because that meant I looked like Pops, too, but maybe that’s not what they meant. Maybe I resemble her as a person.
“Amanda, that’s enough ,” Pops snaps, coming back into the room. He almost never gets angry, but he must have caught the tail end of our conversation.
I force myself to take a deep breath, to shove down the hurt. Pops doesn’t need the stress. “It’s fine.”
It’s not .
He ignores me. “I think it’s best you go,” he tells her. “Say your goodbyes.”
Mom rolls her eyes, throwing her arm up in exasperation. “Whatever.” She shoves my phone into my chest. “Good luck with that.”
Pops and I trail behind her as she stalks to the front door and throws it open. As she barrels onto the porch, she narrowly misses shoulder-checking Gabe, who watches her stomp down the walkway and to her beat-up car.
My cheeks flame with embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” I say quietly.
I can’t be certain, but I think sorry was probably my first word. I’ve been apologizing for my mother for as long as I can remember.
Gabe shakes his head. “Don’t be. That’s on her, not you.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, then rocks back on his heels. “Any chance I can steal you away from your packing? I decided I didn’t want to wait until tonight to see you.”
“Oh, I…” My cheeks remain red for an entirely different reason.
Pops nudges me. “Go, Junebug. You’ve been at it all morning.”
I agree, following Gabe out to his truck. Those butterflies I’ve become familiar with over the years take flight. Only, I don’t realize it will be their last until it’s too late.
With the windows rolled down, I savour the sounds and smells of the island as Gabe’s truck ambles through traffic. Well, what little traffic Kip Island has to offer. It’s busier in the summer, sure, but it’s not exactly known for its gridlock.
I keep sneaking glances over at Gabe. His right hand is on the wheel, but his left arm is resting on the open window. The sun illuminates the tattoo he got for his eighteenth birthday, the start of what I know he’s planning to be a sleeve. He looks, to be entirely honest, hot .
Does your little friend know you’re sneaking around with her brother?
I shove my mother’s voice down deep, where it can’t hurt me. I’ll worry her words to death later, in the solitude of my bedroom. For now, I won’t let myself think about how Clara would feel if she knew.
Gabe parks in the lot for Anchor’s Bay Beach and hops out of the truck faster than I can blink. Before I’ve unbuckled my seatbelt, he’s opening my door for me.
When I jump down, we head for the sand. We don’t talk, instead walking in silence. I want to say something, but my nerves leave me tongue-tied.
The far section of the beach sees little to no tourists, given it’s so rocky, so local kids tend to go there to hang out. Or cause trouble. Today, it’s empty.
“What are we doing out here?” I ask.
Gabe takes a seat on one of the crates that stands in as a chair around the fire pit. I sit beside him, breathing in the nostalgia. I know for a fact Luke is the one who stole the crates from Dockside a few years ago.
Can I really give this all up?
Yes . I have to. Besides the fact that there’s no university close by, there’s no life for me here. Not in the town that raised my mother and became witness to her misdeeds. Her destructive behaviour.
I have to go .
“I wanted to see you,” Gabe says. “Alone.”
The intense expression he wears sends a shiver down my spine. One full of both apprehension and a smidge of excitement.
“Yeah?”
A breeze floats through the air, cooling my heated skin. The summer temperatures have come back with a vengeance, especially when the sun is out.
“Hallie, I love you,” he blurts.
My heart stops. “What?”
Blood rushes in my ears, threatening to drown out anything else Gabe says. And the heart that stopped beating suddenly kicks into overdrive, thumping against my ribcage like it’s trying to break free. Trying to jump right into his hands.
“I love you.” Oh, God. I did hear him right . “I’m in love with you.”
The earnest expression he wears makes me want to cry.
This is everything I’ve ever wanted. The moment I’ve been dreaming of for years. All I have to do is say four little words. I love you, too . But the words don’t come.
Instead, this yawning abyss opens up inside me, and all of the fears and insecurities I’ve collected over my eighteen years come tumbling out. They trip me up, jam my mouth so full, I can’t speak. And Gabe looks at me, hopeful, and I know all I’m capable of is ruining him.
He doesn’t know. He doesn’t see me, truly, deeply.
I’m a mess. I’ve been one all my life. Like mother, like daughter.
He may think he loves me, but he doesn’t.
Or he wouldn’t—not if he knew . So it’s better this way, breaking his heart now, instead of down the line when he’s grown even more attached.
“I, um—” My throat feels thick, like I could throw up at any moment. I stand from the crate, stumbling backwards. “I’m sorry. I can’t… I can’t do this right now.”
For as long as I live, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forget the look on his face. The pain. The regret .
“Hallie, wait.” He stands, reaching for me. “Don’t?—”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper.
And then, like the coward I am, I run.