Chapter 4 – Claire
FOUR
CLAIRE
The morning after Surf is rough.
Lainey was the worst of us all, probably because, unlike June, she didn’t get sick last night and instead just felt like trash this morning. I woke with a bit of a headache and a crick in my neck because June’s bed is not meant for three, but that was nothing a greasy breakfast at the local diner couldn’t fix.
“So can we talk about it yet?” June asks after we drop Lainey off at her place after breakfast. I can feel her stare burning on me as I drive, but I refuse to look at her. She’d been planning this, I know that much, since she’s aware I’m always much more willing to spill my guts to her if it’s just her and me. Lainey is her childhood friend and has become one of my best friends as well since I started coming down to Seaside Point in college, but June knows spilling my thoughts and feelings isn’t my favorite thing to do.
“Talk about what?” I lie because, of course, I know exactly what she wants to talk about. June Walker is the best friend a girl could have, but also a huge fucking pain in the ass if you ever want to process something internally or, say, forget it altogether.
June is a talk-it-out kind of person, and I know even as I drive, she’s dissecting every thought that shifts across my face, taking note of every bit of my body language.
It’s what makes her an amazing fifth-grade teacher.
“What was that at Surf?” she asks, just as her apartment building, where I’m dropping her off before I go to meet my new potential roommate, is in sight now.
Internally, I groan because that means I won’t have the distraction of driving in a moment or two.
“We got drunk? We danced?” I ask.
“Don’t play dumb, it’s not cute on you, Claire,” she says as I pull into a spot right up front, putting my car into park as I turn to her, eyes wide.
“Excuse me? I always look cute, especially when I play dumb, and you know it.”
She glares at me before rolling her eyes. I smile, then pull my visor down and pretend to check my hair in the mirror.
“I meant more Miles Miller catching you when you fell off the bar then going skinny dipping and forcing him to come in with you.”
I turn to her with wide eyes, a finger lifted.
“I did not force him to come in with me, and you know that. I also was not skinny dipping.” I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and look back at the mirror. “I was in my underwear.”
“Claire,” she says, the same patient voice I’m sure she uses on the kids she works with, as I reach into my very full backseat for my purse.
“Nothing happened,” I say, even if it feels like a bit of a lie.
But it’s also the truth: nothing happened.
Nothing happened, and yet for some fucked reason, it’s all I’ve been able to think about since Grant helped me get Lainey and June home safe. His hands on me when he caught me, the way, according to Lainey, he panic-ran into the ocean because he was worried about me, the way he didn’t flinch when I held onto him in the water, the way I felt his eyes on my ass.
And it’s fucked because he’s my ex’s older brother. The one Paul repeatedly and near-incessantly complained about. Though, long before I even met Paul, any time we were at the same place, it was always Miles I would end up chatting with. The few times he was around after Paul and I got together, Miles would hang back with me while his brother was off getting drunk and into some kind of trouble.
At the time, it felt like I was bonding with my boyfriend’s brother, both of us knowing intimately what an idiot he could be. And before that, it felt like Miles spent time with us begrudgingly because he’d tag along with Grant.
With him also being the best friend to my best friend’s brother, we’ve been around each other more times than I can count in the six years I’ve been coming down to Seaside Point, and even though he always acted like I was a nuisance of a girl, always getting into trouble, he always said it with a hint of adoration.
Of brotherly acceptance.
Except for last night.
That was not brotherly in the least .
And now old thoughts and feelings from before Paul love-bombed the fuck out of me are creeping out of the box I very carefully and meticulously shoved them in.
“Claire,” June says, but I grab my lipstick from my bag and start a touch-up, continuing my need to distract myself.
“I’m serious,” I start, snapping out of my memories. “Nothing happened. He was worried I was drunk and wanted to make sure I didn’t go all Jack in Titanic .”
The silence is deafening as I continue to fiddle with my lipstick, pretending to touch up the edges. Through it, June’s patient glare burns on me, though I don’t dare meet it.
And then, because June is my best friend and a bit of a loose cannon, she says, “You should fuck him.”
I’m glad I already pulled the lipstick away from my face, or else it would be smeared across my face.
“What?” I ask, turning to her aghast.
Her grin is near solar with how wide and bright it is. “You should fuck Miles. It would be pretty iconic.”
“June.” I laugh, putting the lipstick back into my bag. “You’re insane.”
“Why? You always had a thing for him, and until Paul came sniffing around, you two were always flirting back and forth.” She says Paul’s name like he’s some grand criminal instead of simply an idiot. “You guys used to be friends.”
I shake my head. “Miles and I were never friends; he is simply friends with your brother, which meant he was always just around when we all hung out. He couldn’t stand me even then, which is why I’d flirt with him in the first place. It’s as easy as that.”
I put the cap back on my lipstick and rub my lips together.
“Paul always gave you shit for being friends with his brother, and in the end, he was a dick. What better revenge would there be?”
I sigh and close my eyes because this is not the first time we’ve had this conversation. “I don’t want revenge on Paul. I just want to move on with my life.”
I met Paul Miller two summers ago, and he instantly swept me away with grand gestures and sweet words, always giving me his full attention. His sweetness started to fade over our first winter together, but when it returned with the warm weather, I chalked it up to some kind of seasonal depression.
He was an aspiring rockstar, so I agreed to follow him to California last December. But when he was the only one I knew out there, and I had zero distractions from how shitty our relationship was, I ended things and headed back home to Evergreen Park to lick my wounds.
Now I’m here, spending my summer in Seaside Point.
“I’m just saying…you’ll be here all summer.”
Finally, I turn to her with an eyebrow raised. “And as you always tell me, this town is teeny tiny. I’d probably have to see him all the time after. It would be awkward.”
“You could have a summer fling!” When I tip my head with a raised brow, she rolls her eyes. “Awkwardness gone because you’d be fucking him all summer long. Then in the fall, you leave. No bumping into him.”
That is definitely not how that would work, but I know that argument would fall on deaf ears. “You know I don’t do flings.”
She rolls her eyes exasperatedly. “Maybe you should,” she grumbles under her breath.
“June.”
“I’m just saying. I always told you he had a thing for you, and you love flirting with him—” I sigh and throw my hands up.
“Because he’s an easy target, and I like flirting! I flirt with everyone.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t flirt with Grant,” she says.
I raise an eyebrow, finally looking her in the eye. “Do you want me to start?” I ask with a smile.
Her face screws up with disgust. “Ew, no. That’s my brother, Claire.”
“Perfect. Now drop this. Miles Miller has never and will never be into me.”
“What if he saw you with Paul and realized he was a big giant idiot not going for it all those summers, and now that you’ve gotten your head out of your ass and dumped his brother, he’s ready to give it a shot? Would you be into him then?”
I roll my eyes.
“You’re going to hurt yourself with how far you’re stretching this. Either way, this summer is not about that. It’s about me having fun and maybe, hopefully, figuring out what I want to do with my life. Now go. I have to go meet my new landlord.”
She looks me over, then seems to realize I don’t want to continue talking about Miles or Paul and smiles again.
“Maybe he’ll be hot, and you’ll have a sweltering summer fling with him instead.”
“Jesus, June, maybe you’re the one who needs to get laid.”
She shakes her head with a sad look on her face. “There’s no maybe about that. We both know my dry spell is just about past saving. You’re my last hope for hot sex by osmosis.”
“You’re out of your fucking mind,” I say low.
My best friend gives me a wide smile and then reaches over, tapping my cheek with a loving hand. “And you love it.” Then she looks at me again. “Sorry, I’m a nudge. I just want you to have the most stellar summer possible.”
I smile before leaning over the center console and hugging her.
“I know. I appreciate it. You’re the mastermind behind this plan, and it’s already shaping up to be amazing.”
“It’s only going to get better. Call me after you go to the house. Tell me whose it is, and I can give you all the tea on who they are and if we should trust them with your life. Remember, if it’s Old Man Rafferty, run. He’s a weirdo and will absolutely steal your panties.”
I cringe at the visual and shake my head.
“I don't think Helen would do that to me,” I say with a laugh. “You said Mr. Rafferty is on Bayside Drive?” She nods. “Yeah, this is on Ocean Ave.”
“Ocean Ave?” she asks curiously, and now it’s my turn to nod. “Hmm. Interesting. Well, call me when you know more!” She steps out of the car, and I think I see a strange look on her face, but I may have just imagined it.
“Later,” I call out, pulling out of her parking lot.
Now that I’m alone, my nerves take over. I graduated from college almost two years ago, and I still don’t know what I want to do with my life. After my plan to follow my then-boyfriend across the country totally crashed and burned, I gave myself one year to figure it out before I had to start thinking realistically instead of idealistically .
Except I’m nearly six months in, and…nothing. I still have no idea what I want to do for the rest of my life.
After the breakup, my life pretty much settled into the same rhythm it had before: I went back to living in the cottage behind my brother’s house, working at his girlfriend’s dance studio, and babysitting my niece when needed.
The only difference was the looks I was now getting from my family. Even they knew I was faking it through each day, slowly wasting away with anxiety as I tried to figure out what I wanted to do.
It’s why I needed to get out of that town, if only for a few months, because as much as I love my family, and I’m so glad I had them to fall back on after everything fell apart, I was suffocating.
This entire chaotic plan started about two weeks ago during one of our incessant FaceTimes when I finally confessed to June how lost I’ve been feeling.
“Everyone…” I bit my lip, feeling silly saying it out loud. “Everyone around me knows what they want to do. And I…don’t.”
“You’re young!” she said with a wave of her hand. “You have time!”
“I’m twenty-five, June. I feel like I was supposed to spend the last two years since graduation figuring it all out, and instead, I spent it babying Paul.” She gave me a tight look because, from the time I met him at a party, she didn’t like him for me. “And now I’m home again, back at square one. Except my entire family is secretly judging me for not having it all figured out.”
A frustrated tear rolled down my cheek, and I cursed my inability to hide emotions. Normally, I think it just makes me me, but right then, these tears exposed me too much.
She gave me a contemplative look before she nodded like she knew exactly what the answer was. “You know what you need? A hot girl summer.”
I let out a snort of a laugh and shook my head at her, wiping away the few tears that escaped and already feeling a bit better.
“I’m serious! Spend the summer having fun, being silly, and living it up, then, in the fall, you can figure out what you want to do. You can’t make big decisions like that just by thinking about them non-stop.” A pregnant pause filled the line before she spoke again. “Okay, it might sound crazy ?— ”
“I love crazy,” I said with a smile she returned.
“What about Seaside Point?”
“What?”
“Come down here for the summer! It’s perfect, actually. Helen, the recreation manager? She’s looking for some lifeguards for the season.”
I rolled the idea through my mind, then stumbled on the first obstacle.
“Where would I live?” I asked, knowing her apartment is no bigger than a shoebox. “I love you, but ? —“
“But college was rough enough. I almost killed you. Doing that again might be the end of our friendship.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “That’s because you’re a neat freak.”
“No. It’s because you’re a tornado.”
I smiled, accepting her dig because it was not completely wrong. I could only see the top of her head as she tapped away at the screen of her phone.
“We’ll find you a place down here, I know a ton of people. We have to get you the job first.” My phone pinged with a new message. “That’s the website for the recreation department. Fill out the application for summer positions.”
I moved to my laptop and opened the link, finding the application quickly and opening it. “Is this crazy?” I asked with a laugh, typing in my name.
“No crazier than any other things we’ve done.”
I shrugged because she was not wrong, then focused for the next few minutes while she rambled on about plans and what kind of fun we could have if we lived in the same town for a few months.
“Okay, application sent.” A sense of excitement and purpose rushed through me, feeling good to finally take control of this morose feeling that had been plaguing me.
Maybe a change of pace was all I’d need.
“Ah! So exciting! Tomorrow I’ll talk to Helen and make sure she knows how perfect you are for the job. You’ll get the job.”
That was two weeks ago, and in that time, I got the job, packed everything up from the cottage I was living in behind my brother Nate’s house, and moved down here. I’ll be living down the shore for the summer to give myself some space and a bit of fun to try and figure out my life. My plan is to have one last carefree summer and, along the way, hopefully, figure out what I like and what I want to do with my life.
Or, worst-case scenario, in the fall, get a big girl job, and then I’ll have this fun, chaotic summer to look back on when I’m a depressed paper pusher.
Either way, this is my summer .