Chapter 38 – Claire
THIRTY-EIGHT
CLAIRE
Emergency meeting at the Seabreeze, tomorrow at 7. Bring everyone.
The message goes out the morning after we confront Brad and Paul, and I spend the day at work dodging questions about this emergency I texted everyone about.
That night the bar is more packed than I've ever seen it, and I smile as I sit on the edge of the counter, Miles at my side, looking out over this group of people who I've grown to love. Not only that, but the group I've grown to feel like I'm a part of.
"All right, all right," I say loudly, and everyone at the bar quiets down. "I called you all here because Miles needs our help." I turn to my boyfriend, unsure of how much he wants to share, but he sighs, running a hand over his head before he explains..
"Most of you know that when my grandmother passed, she left the house my grandfather built to me and my brother. I've been slowly buying his share from him, but it seems he's gotten…" He runs a hand over his hair again. "Antsy…and sold his share to Baker Brothers."
There's a rumbling from before us, the company clearly not beloved in Seaside Point.
"No fucking way," a voice says from out in the crowd, but Miles keeps talking.
"It wasn't a huge surprise, he has been tight on cash since he moved to California." June coughs out a laugh that sounds like loser, and I roll my lips into my mouth so I don't make a scene. "I've been trying to save up the money to buy him out this summer since I kind of had a feeling this was coming, but I'm not there yet."
"That's why he rented out the room," Benny says with understanding, and Miles nods.
"I was wondering why he did that. I thought he just wanted an excuse to live with Claire," Sam says, and I fight a laugh, shaking my head.
"Nah, I had to practically beg him to let me in the door." I move an arm around Miles's shoulders and pull him into me as he presses a kiss to my cheek. It's a shock; what a good mood he's been in, as if a weight has been lifted from his shoulders instead of dropped onto it.
"Fuck, Miles, why haven't you said anything?" Benny asks, his brow furrowed. His pipe is set aside, which tells me he's taking this seriously.
"I knew," Grant says, waving his hand in the air, but we ignore him.
"Don't worry, Benny, he didn't even tell me," Miles's mom says.
Miles went there this morning to talk to her about what happened with Paul. When I got home from work, he told me she was upset but didn't seem surprised.
"Because…I don't know. It's not a fun thing to share, that I'm struggling, and much less to talk about my weird relationship with Paul."
I make eye contact with Mrs. Miller, and she gives me a small, pained smile.
"That's what friends are for, man. We could have—" Deck starts.
"No," he says with a shake of his hand, rejecting any help as always, the stubborn man. Last night I reminded him of his agreement to let me pitch in if needed, but he told me we were focusing on winning the games first.
"We could do a fundraiser," Helen suggests cheerily, and a dozen or so heads nod across the bar.
"No," he says, almost firmer. "Any fundraising goes only to the rec department or something for the town. I'm not taking money from anyone."
Helen looks offended, and I roll my eyes with a sigh.
"Trust me, I offered," I say. "We have a plan, though. One that doesn't fuck with his fragile male ego."
Miles glares at me, and I give him a preening smile.
"He's a little stubborn," Mrs. Miller says.
"No shit," Grant agrees, and I smile, giving them an agreeing wink.
"Excuse me, this was my idea ," Miles says, and I roll my eyes.
"Okay, so maybe it was Miles's idea, but I refined it so it's way better now. Here's my plan," I say, putting my shoulders back and smiling. "Surf has those beach games next week, and?—
"Oh, hell yeah," Grant says with a wide smile, cutting me off. I shoot him a glare.
"Can you let the girl finish?" Lainey asks, irritated. An embarrassed blush burns over Grant's cheeks, something I tuck into my pocket before refocusing.
"Surf has the beach games next week, and Miles told Brad if his team won, Miles gets the house, no issue. If he loses, then he has to cooperate with the sale. So?—"
"I'm in," Deck says without even hearing the rest of the story.
"Me too!" Lainey says, raising a hand in the air.
"We need six people, and one person is supposed to be under eighteen."
"Jonah?" Helen asks, and I nod. That was who Miles and I already thought would be a good fit after the block party.
"Do you think he'd be interested?"
She gives me a duh look. "After all the work you two have been putting in to fix his street cred? I think he'd do almost anything for you both." I smile, happy to hear it. "But, Claire, sweetie—" she starts, and I shake my head, knowing what she’s going to say. As head lifeguard, I’m expected to work the event and manage the lifeguards on shift for the games, something that Brad asked about specifically when he contracted the rec department.
"I know. I'm working that day. But that works in our favor too."
Helen raises her eyebrow, but June gasps, already knowing where this is going.
"The Sigma Pi Memorial Day Party," she shouts, and I smile wide.
"Exactly."
"Uh, what was the Sigma whatever party?" Deck asks.
"It was this giant contest between my sorority and one of the frats. Claire wasn't in a sorority, so she wasn't in the competition. She stood on the sidelines and, well, did what she does best," June explains.
Miles looks at me and raises his eyebrows. I lift a shoulder and smile.
"Make a scene," I say, fluttering my eyelashes.
"Why do I feel like I'm not going to like this?" he says low.
"Be a good boy, and let me work my magic," I say with a wink, making Helen laugh aloud. "We're working on finalizing our team, but we're still going to need all of your help, both with general cheering and booing, respectively, and for Project Make a Scene."
"I'm in," says Helen.
"Me too," says June.
"In," Sam says, looking shy, probably because he's afraid Miles is going to come in and be all protective hot guy again. The room becomes an echo of I'm in s, and I turn to Miles with a wide smile, my eyes watering because of the show of support for him.
"Such a girl," he whispers, pulling me in close and brushing away the tear on my cheek. I press on his chest, but he pulls me in closer. "Thank you, Claire," he whispers for my ears only.
I look up at him, his smile shining down at me when he should be upset or worried or angry. I know then that he meant it, that he's shifted his priorities, that this summer made him see there's more to life than working until you bleed for the far-off possibility of things being good.
And that alone means we already won.