Chapter 3 Playlist Everyone Be Quiet, It’s Been a Long Day
THE PARTY IS BASICALLY a full-on rave at this point, and I’m ready to go. I’ve (mostly) recovered from my second-ever conversation with Myles, but I’m still not really in the mood to socialize. We’ve stayed way past what would be considered “just a little while.”
Kat’s still making her rounds, and every time I think she’ll find me and tell me she’s ready to leave, a new group of people arrives.
I fold my arms across my stomach and make my way to the drink table again, wondering why she suddenly wants to hang out with these people who have no idea she wanted to be a prima ballerina until she was fourteen (even though she never took dance) or that Jake Mallory was her first kiss.
(She tells everyone it was Russell Temple.)
I try to come up with excuses for Kat and me to bail as I sift through the cooler, bypassing cans of Bud Light in search of another Pepsi.
I’ve never tried beer, and I tell myself it’s because it smells awful (which is true), but really it’s because I’m too big of a wuss to break that particular law.
I straighten and find a boy standing on the other side of the table.
He tips his head at the soda in my hand. “See another one of those in there?”
I don’t recognize him, which means he’s new or he’s from out of town. For his sake I consider telling him not to let anyone know if he’s a tourist. Jade would escort him right off the premises.
He’s tall and thin, and I have to look up to meet what I think are brown eyes.
His back’s to the fire, so his face is shadowed and it’s a little hard to tell.
His dark hair is short, like it’s just growing out of a buzz cut, and I wonder if he’s from that military boarding school in Connecticut.
It’s shorter than most of the guys I know, who all keep their hair long enough to constantly tousle and toss out of their eyes when they come out of the ocean.
Yes, sometimes it’s hot—like every time Myles does it. But on most other guys it seems practiced and fake.
I can’t tell which of those words might describe this guy. Hot? Practiced? Fake? For all I know, he could be all the above.
I decide I’m too tired to find out and hold out the unopened can. “Here. I’m about to leave anyway.”
He doesn’t make a move to take it, and shoves his hands into the pockets of his navy-blue zip-up hoodie instead. He gives me a sort of disappointed look, but the quirk to his lips is a little teasing. “Really? But I just got here.”
I tilt my head. Is he flirting with me? “Who are you?”
He grins like an introduction is what he was hoping for. “Gregory McLoughlin.” He holds out his hand.
I shake it, and for a second my eyes drop to our hands. His is large and darker than mine, and looks rougher than it feels. I glance back up to his face. “Gregory McLoughlin. Are you on vacation?”
He drops his arm with a chuckle and arches a dark brow. “What if I am? You gonna blindfold me and make me walk into the ocean?”
“Are you a good swimmer?”
Am I flirting back?
“I would be if I had to be.” There’s something in the way he says it that gives me pause. Like he knows his way around doing things purely out of necessity. I also don’t miss the way he said “would,” not “could,” as if there’s no question he’d succeed.
I give him another once-over and say, “I don’t know you, so it’s either vacation or you’re new in town.”
I don’t mean it in a bad way. I’m not one of those locals who hate tourists. Sure, I like an uncrowded beach as much as the next person, but tourists keep most of the businesses in Kingfisher Cove running.
“I don’t know you, either.” He points to the only remaining vacant log around the fire. “I was hoping we could fix that.”
“I’m leaving, remember?” I try to hand him the Pepsi again.
He takes it this time, grinning, his eyes never leaving my face. He’s confident and directing a focused attention at me in a way I’m not used to, and now that I’m not holding anything, I don’t know what to do with my hands.
Another girl walks up. I think she’s a senior, and she blatantly checks Gregory out. She reaches into the cooler to grab a beer and smiles at him. “Hi.”
He glances at her and sort of nods in acknowledgement before his focus is back on me. “You were leaving…,” he begins.
The girl, who’s definitely prettier than me, frowns and walks away. Just when I’m about to give in to the warm satisfaction of being chosen over her by this mysterious stranger, I hear her call out, “Kat Barlowe? Get over here! You can’t move away without saying goodbye.”
It’s like a splash of freezing-cold water.
For the moment, Gregory may have chosen me, but Kat has chosen everyone else.
She’s wasting these final moments in Kingfisher Cove with other people.
I realize how pointless it is, standing here talking to this guy who’s probably only in town for three days.
I’m so ready to get out of here, with or without Kat.
I consider trying to find her in the sea of people, but who knows how long that would take, or if she’d even want to come with me. I don’t want to risk the sting of her saying she’ll catch up with me later. Yes, I’m bitter, and no, I don’t care.
“Sorry.” I finally smile at him and shake my head. “I still am.” In another life, if I were anyone else but me, I might take this opportunity to flirt and be spontaneous and maybe even kiss a stranger I’ll never see again. But I’m just Amelia Madden, Most Likely to Do Nothing.
He seems to realize I’m a lost cause. “Okay. It was nice to meet you, and maybe I’ll see you around…?” He trails off meaningfully, waiting for me to tell him my name.
I shake my head and take a few steps backward before I turn and walk away. He laughs like he’s not bothered at all by the slight, which irritates me because Kat doing the same to me is exactly what’s throwing me off tonight.
But for some reason the sound of his laugh follows me all the way home.
I feel a little better the next day.
I texted Kat last night as I walked home, to let her know I’d left, and thought she might reply with something like, Shoot I lost track of time—I’ll meet you at your house for movies and popcorn!
But she didn’t. Instead she said she’d catch a ride home with someone and would have her dad bring her by to say goodbye in the morning.
When I came home alone and told my mom what had happened (that we’d been at a party at a public beach with no alcohol, of course), I cried and said I didn’t think Kat would even miss me.
My mom, who’s always been good at making me feel better, said some people just aren’t good at goodbyes, that the people we love the most are the hardest to leave, and maybe that’s why Kat chose to focus on everyone else. It’s less painful for her that way.
That made sense, and though I’m still sad we didn’t spend Kat’s last night staying up until three in the morning laughing and reminiscing, I’m not mad at her anymore.
She gets here around eleven. I’m glad she didn’t come earlier, because I only woke up fifteen minutes ago. If sleeping in was an Olympic sport, my shelf would be full of gold medals.
I’m crying as soon as I open the door. Then Kat’s crying too, and she hugs me tight.
“Sorry about last night,” she says, cheek pressed to my hair. In middle school I wondered if I’d catch up to her height, but no matter how much I grew, she always kept a couple of inches on me. “Everyone kept wanting to say goodbye, and I got caught up in it.”
I remember my mom’s words from last night. “Don’t worry about it. I understand.”
She pulls back and swipes at her eyes, then looks over my shoulder. “Oh, Margie!” she cries, and steps around me to crouch down next to Margarine. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
Margarine wags her tail and licks Kat’s face.
Kat sits cross-legged and leans sideways to wrap her arms around my dog’s neck.
“Don’t forget me, okay?” She cuddles with her for several long moments, then scratches behind Margarine’s ears and rubs a thumb along her snout.
“Look how gray you’re getting,” she croons.
“You’re a senior citizen now, aren’t you? ”
Margarine rolls to her side in a blatant request for a belly rub.
“Never too old for belly rubs, though, huh?” Kat laughs, obliging.
I frown. “She’s not that old.”
“She’s ten, right? That’s, like, seventy in dog years. She’s a grandma.”
I’m trying to stick with my mom’s whole it’s too hard to say goodbye thing, because by this point Kat has spent longer parting with my dog than me.
Kat kisses Margarine’s head. Then she gets this look of distress on her face. “What if this is the last time I see her?”
“Kat! Don’t be so dramatic. She’s still plenty feisty, believe me.
She has years ahead of her.” I say it as much for me as her, because losing Kat and Margarine?
I’m not sure I’d survive it. I kneel and kiss Margarine on her wet nose.
Then I look Kat in the eyes. “Trust me, absolutely nothing is going to change. When you come back to visit for Summerfest, we’ll all be exactly how you left us. Margie included.”
Kat’s shoulders fall in relief, and she smiles. “I like the sound of that.” She gives Margarine one last pat and stands.
My mom comes in and asks Kat if she’s all packed up and if she’s excited for her new adventure. We chat for a few more minutes until Kat’s dad comes to the door and says it’s time to go. We walk onto the front porch, and her dad goes back to the car.
Kat gives me another big hug, her eyes watering again. “I’ll text you when I get there.”
I nod.
“We’ll talk every day, right?”
“Of course,” I say. I can’t remember a day when we haven’t spoken, at least by text. “You gotta tell me what it’s like at your new fancy school. I want to know all the dirt.”
Kat laughs. “You have to keep me in the know too. I need to know if Blake ever passes his driver’s test, and the second Hannah gets fired from the ice cream shop for texting during work hours, because we both know that’s gonna happen.
Oh, and I bet my brother ten bucks that Kai and Ava won’t last the summer, so keep tabs on that dumpster fire for me, will you? ”
“Obviously.” I waggle my eyebrows. “Maybe you’ll find your own summer fling up there. Like, with a hot tennis instructor, or—oh! The ball boy!”
“Oh my God, Amelia. Yeah, right,” Kat says with a snort. Then she gets a sly gleam in her eye. “But you on the other hand? You should definitely find yourself a summer hookup this year. You’re long overdue.”
“Me?” I sputter. “Who on earth would I hook up with?”
“Um, literally any of the guys from school? Not Myles, obviously, and probably not Jason Kimball because I fooled around with him over spring break, but there are, like, fifty others. There are always cute tourists that come through, and you know they’d love to go back home and tell everyone they made out with a hot local girl with a great rack on the beach. ”
“Kat!”
“I hope you still have that white bikini I made you buy.”
I glare at her even though I do still have it, and yes, it’s basically a push-up bra. The tags are still attached.
Her dad honks, and we both jump, but she doesn’t stop. “Ohmygod, actually, I heard there was some hot stranger at the party last night. Did you see him? Tall, brown hair, killer smile? Go track that guy down and snag him before anyone else does!”
I shove her off the porch. “You’re out of your mind.”
“That’s why you love me,” she sing-songs. “I’ll text you when I get there!”
I smile. This is what I’ve wanted these last twenty-four hours. Kat being Kat and the promise that we’ll stay in touch.
That we’ll be okay.
And that’s exactly what I tell myself as I watch her drive away. Even though Kat won’t be physically around anymore, she’s still going to be a big part of my life, and she’ll still be my best friend.
No matter what.