Chapter 2 Playlist That’s Not What I Meant
TWENTY MINUTES LATER WE’RE wading ankle-deep in the surf and still reminiscing. We’ve covered the annual Summerfest event, going out on the boat, fireworks over the water on the Fourth of July. Honestly, our summers in Kingfisher Cove have been so epic, we could be here all night.
I wouldn’t be mad about it.
“Oh!” Kat cries, startling a couple walking hand in hand along the shore. “What about when we found Margarine?”
Margarine, my sweet yellow-Lab-mixed-with-something mutt. Kat and I found her behind the grocery store several years ago, all dirty and hungry.
“She was the sweetest thing,” I remember. “Climbed right into your lap.”
“I’m so glad your parents agreed to take her in.
After my dad said no, I was scared we’d have to take her to the shelter.
Actually, I’m not sure my mom ever forgave him for that.
She always wanted a pet. Maybe that’s why they got divorced.
” Humor is Kat’s defense mechanism when it comes to discussing her parents’ recent split.
“She can get as many as she wants now, I guess.”
I’m about to say I wouldn’t be surprised if her mom accumulated a couple of dogs now that her big house will only be half full. It hasn’t been that long since Kat’s dad moved out, and now Kat’s joining him, leaving just her mom and brother, Luke, here. But before I can, a voice calls out behind us.
“Amelia! Kat!”
We turn to see Jade Frederick walking toward us.
Like us, she just finished sophomore year.
She was named Most Likely to Get a Tattoo, probably because last year alone she added three new piercings to her body (nose, cartilage, belly button).
She’s trying a little too hard, if you ask me—something I’d never say out loud.
She’s nice, and we worked well together on a history assignment last year, but she’s pretty committed to sticking with the fine arts crowd.
“I haven’t seen you two out here in forever.”
I forgot Jade lives out this way. “It’s been a while,” I say. “I forgot how quiet it is.”
Jade laughs. “That won’t last long. The party’s just getting started.”
“Party?” Kat asks.
“Yeah. Just there, on the other side of the dunes.” She points. “We found the perfect spot last spring, and made it the whole summer without anyone’s parents finding us. Plus, none of the tourists make it that far.”
“Nice,” Kat says.
“Wanna come? Lots of people from school will be there.”
I say “Nah” at the same time Kat says “Yeah!” We look at each other.
Jade laughs and starts walking backward, as if she doesn’t want to get in the middle of that. “Well, maybe I’ll see you later.”
When Jade’s out of hearing distance, I look at Kat, trying to figure out whether she was just trying to be nice. Tonight was supposed to be the two of us, and surely she doesn’t want to go to a big party on our last night to hang out…?
“You don’t want to go?” she asks, disappointment in her tone.
Or maybe she does.
“It’s not that,” I start, even though it’s exactly that. “I just thought we’d go to all our old places tonight. Like a little time capsule of Kat and Amelia, you know?”
She chews on her lip and faces the ocean again.
“Do you want to go to the party?” I ask.
“I mean, it sounds like fun.” She tugs a strand of blond hair over her shoulder and twists it around her finger.
“We’ve obviously been missing out, and this is my last chance to check it out.
” She must see my still skeptical face. “What if we just go for a little while? We can even take our sunset selfie there. Then we’ll go back to eat our weight in popcorn and watch movies until we fall asleep. ”
I nod, not wanting to be selfish. Did I want Kat all to myself tonight? Yes. But she’s right, this will be her last chance to scope out whatever this party is, while I’ll be free to become the life of every other party this summer. (I almost laugh out loud just thinking it.) “Okay, sure. Let’s go.”
She grins and drapes an arm around my shoulders. “We’ll stay together, promise.”
Spoiler alert: We don’t stay together.
Which leaves me feeling completely off-kilter, because even at the few parties we hit up in the past, we were always a package deal.
Kat may have talked more and seemed to know twice as many people as I did, but she always looped me in, her elbow perpetually hooked around mine. We both always had fun.
Together.
In Kat’s defense, tonight she can’t really help it. Because Jade’s right, a ton of people from school are here, and as the party has grown, it has quickly turned into a send-off event for Kat.
Everyone who knows her wants to say goodbye.
Within minutes of our arrival, Kat was pulled away by Gabrielle Yeboah (Most Artistic).
Then Tanner Harris (Biggest Prankster) pulled up with half the tennis team in the bed of his pickup truck.
I lost sight of her for a few minutes when they crowded around to tell her how much they’ll miss her, and how will they ever make it to State again?
When Chloe Sanders (Best Storyteller) joined the fray, she… well, had some tale about something that happened on the pier earlier today. She had everyone enraptured for the next fifteen minutes.
Everyone except me. I joined some friends from the conservation club and listened to everyone’s summer plans, but struggled to stay focused because I kept hearing Kat’s laugh somewhere behind me.
I run into Dylan, a guy who works for my dad, but can’t seem to muster any enthusiasm for his monologue on why beer pong is superior to flip cup.
So I slip away to find a can of Pepsi, and now make my way to one of the large logs set up around a bonfire.
I’m intercepted by two senior girls.
“Hey, you’re Kat’s friend, right?”
I pop the top of my soda. “Yeah, I’m Amelia.”
The taller one elbows the girl beside her like, Told you so. “Did you see where she went? We were on the spring formal planning committee with her. We wanted to say goodbye.”
I point in the general vicinity where I saw her last. “Over there, somewhere.”
I finally sit, pretending to be perfectly content with this whole situation.
It’s not that I don’t have other friends.
It’s just… none of them are like Kat. We’re sister-level close.
She knows where to find everything in my kitchen and that I was scared of thunderstorms until I was eleven.
I can tell what kind of mood she’s in with a split-second glance at her expression.
She’s the one person I can be my whole self around—even more than with my parents, sometimes.
The sun’s going down, so I tug on my sweatshirt, struggling for a few seconds to get my arms in the right places. When I poke my head through the neck hole, Myles Ford is sitting beside me.
My breath stops and I blink, not fully trusting it’s really him.
But then he speaks.
“Hey.” He smiles, and my pulse picks up a little. A lie—it picks up a lot, and I worry he can hear it. I don’t think I’ve ever been this close to him before. His teeth are white and perfect, and his eyes are glacier blue with unfairly long lashes.
Be cool, Amelia.
“Um,” I manage, and warmth immediately pours into my cheeks.
“Okay if I sit here?” he asks.
Of course he can sit there. I’d hand over my camera if he asked for it. Maybe my virginity, too. On second thought, maybe just the camera. The virginity thing would probably be a pact violation.
“Sure,” I say in a voice that sounds way too high-pitched.
He’s wearing navy-blue shorts and a gray hoodie. His blond hair is already a little longer than he keeps it during the school year, and he reaches up to sweep it to the side with his fingers. I have an embarrassing urge to sigh and cup my chin in my hands.
God, I bet that hair is as soft as cashmere.
I glance around, wondering if the spot beside me is literally the only vacancy near the fire. Because why else would Myles Ford want to sit next to me?
We’ve lived in the same small town since we were little, so yeah, we’ve crossed paths.
But he’s a year older and a Ford, which means everyone knows him.
Everyone in Kingfisher Cove knows his family, and every teenager who’s into boys has crushed on at least one of the three Ford brothers.
Back in middle school I’d probably have fainted dead away if any of them had looked me in the eye.
I must have made progress as I’ve gotten older, because look at me sitting here, not fainting. My face is a tomato and I’m awkwardly crossing and uncrossing my legs and twisting my hands together, sure—but still. I’m conscious.
My brain immediately recalls the first (and only, before today) time Myles spoke directly to me.
First day of Christmas break, freshman year, 1:17 p.m. I was helping out at the grocery store where my dad’s the manager when Myles came through the checkout line with his mom.
He had on a blue Sail Cape Cod windbreaker that matched his eyes and seemed kind of bored, like she’d made him run the errand with him.
When he saw me, he notched up his chin and asked in that casual way guys do, “How’s it going? ”
I blacked out after that.
Not literally. I didn’t faint then, either—but I don’t remember if I said anything else beyond “Your total is $32.65” after I finished scanning their items. Yes, I still know the exact amount, because they forgot their receipt and I kept it as a souvenir of that life-altering moment.
“How’s it going?” he asks, exactly like he did that day.
Oxygen seems prudent at a time like this, so I inhale and will myself to respond like a normal human.
“Pretty good.” There, see? Not so hard. I keep my eyes on the fire, though, because I’m not sure I can look at him and speak coherently at the same time. “You?”
“Same. Ready for Pearl’s?”
Ah. Pearl’s. So that’s why he came over.
“I think so,” I say, thankful that it’s dark and he can’t see my flushed skin.
“Waitressing will be different from scanning groceries, but at least I’ve got the small talk part down.
” Hell, if I can exchange words with Myles Ford on the fly, I think I can handle just about anything at the restaurant.
Keep it up, Amelia. You’re doing great. “Are you?”
I’m normally a really good listener, I swear.
Especially to someone like Myles, who I’ve crushed on my entire life.
But at the exact same time he answers my question, I catch Kat’s yellow dress out of the corner of my eye.
She’s running up to someone who just arrived, hugging them.
In this moment, sitting here with Myles Ford isn’t even enough to boost my spirits, which is really saying something.
And talking about Pearl’s just makes me feel even worse.
Kat left me tonight, she bailed on our job for the summer, and she’s attending another school next year.
Myles even mentions it, I think, because I half hear him say “with Kat leaving and all.” I tell myself to focus. Is he worried about being down a person at the restaurant? I didn’t even think about needing to fill shifts they’d planned on Kat taking. Will Myles and I be responsible for those?
I guess it doesn’t matter if we are, because it’s not like I’ll have anyone here to hang out with otherwise.
“… number?”
I turn to face him right when he finishes talking, and he’s holding out his phone.
I scramble to recall what he just said while I was in my own head. My stomach flips over when I make direct eye contact, and I drop my gaze to the lit-up screen. I quickly realize he must be asking for my number in case we need to trade shifts or have questions about work.
“Oh, sure,” I say, taking his phone. He’s already got a blank contact pulled up, so I type in my number with surprisingly steady hands and hand it back.
“Thanks.” He stands up with a smile. “See you next week, I guess?”
“Yeah,” I confirm. I watch him walk away, and as the seconds pass, my heart gradually returns to a normal rhythm.
It hits me that under different circumstances, I might have freaked out that Myles Ford asked for my number.
But that wouldn’t happen, because in what world would Myles Ford be interested in me?
Besides, even if the universe turned upside down and he did like me—like, like me—I’d never do that to Kat. We made a pact.
Abandoning our last summer or not, ignoring me at this party or not, I’ll never break a promise to my best friend.
Ever.