Chapter 9 #2
I’m carrying a basket of clothes to the laundry room the next day when Anita corners me. I smile at Sibley perched on her hip.
“So,” she says, following me into the small cinderblock building. I begin tossing clothes into the washer.
“So, what?”
She rolls her eyes. “I saw you cozying up to a few of the boys yesterday.”
“Whatever, we were all just hanging out. You missed it because you were snuggling in the boat with Bobby.”
“I have eyes in the back of my head. I saw you and Pete on the sandbar.”
I blush. There really are no secrets around this place.
“And you and Justin looked pretty tight all day yesterday.”
“He was being nice—helping me past my fear of the ocean.”
“I heard you gave him a ride home?”
“From who?”
She squints and reaches out to touch my chin, “What’s that?”
I push her hand away and measure out a cup of soap and pour it in the machine. “What’s what?”
“Looks like a rash.”
From Justin’s beard.
“Probably just from the sand or something.” I turn and exit the building. Anita follows me back to the camper.
“Sure, that could be it, or you know, face rash from making out with Justin last night!” She says this loudly, too loudly for being in the middle of the campground and surrounded by nosy neighbors.
Sibley giggles and says, “Jusssstin.”
“Shhhh!” I frown, looking around to see if anyone heard. Mr. Walker waters flowers in front of his camper but I doubt he heard me over his radio. I lower my voice and ask, “What’s your problem?”
She has the good sense to look guilty. “Nothing. I’m just glad you’re having some fun. And I like you. And I love him. Is it wrong to be happy that the people I care about are happy?
“Whatever,” she says following me to my camper. “I noticed you got home pretty late last night—way later than the rest of us.”
“Are you stalking me?” I ask, but I know she can see the entrance from her house. “I dropped him at his house and he showed me around.”
“Beautiful, huh? Just think—that could have been my life,” she sighs. “You know, if my mom and Richard had stayed together.”
“What and leave all this?” I glance around the campground.
It’s Sunday afternoon and the grounds are starting to come to life.
Mr. Walker is mowing the five by eight patch of grass out front, while some lady in lot #17 prunes her flowers.
“I’m kidding, you know, it really is pretty fantastic here—in its own charming way. ”
“I think so,” she nods, letting a squirming Sibley out of her arms to see the tiny dog one of the residents is walking.
My phone vibrates in my pocket and I check to see who’s calling. “It’s my friend Catherine. I should take this.”
“Keep me posted on the boys, I need details. I got married young, you know, I need a little excitement.” Anita waves and follows after Sibley.
“Hey,” I say into the phone.
“Hey girl! How are you?”
“Pretty good,” I tell her. I’m at my camper and sit down on one of the orange canvas chairs my mother has placed around our ‘patio’. “How are you?”
“Just packing and trying to get everything ready.”
“That’s right,” I say. “You leave in a few weeks.”
“Yep. It’s been crazy but I think I finally have it all together. I had to get a couple of new dresses. It’s cooler there.”
“Good,” I reply, hoping the jealousy isn’t evident in my voice. “You guys will have a lot of fun.”
“Not as much as we would with you.”
“Cathe…”
She sighs into the phone. “I know you’ve made your decision, but you can still change your mind! Mason really wants you to come. We all had dinner the other night and he told me he’s been trying to contact you.”
“Yeah, he’s been trying.”
“You should hear him out,” she says.
I look out at the water. It’s already warm and I want to get in my bathing suit and hit the beach. Not deal with this drama. “I’ve heard what he has to say.”
“He and Nicole broke up, did you know that?”
Hearing her name almost makes me gag, but at the same time, hearing the news of their separation sparks something in my chest. It also explains why he’s been calling so much.
I drop my head in my hand. Jesus, I’m a fucking mess.
“Great,” I say. “I’m officially the cause of a broken relationship.”
“That’s one way to look at it. Or that he wants you back enough to leave her.”
I wonder for a moment how I ever found Mason attractive. “It doesn’t matter. He lied to me. And I lied to everyone else. I can’t believe you’re pushing me to do this. A few weeks ago, you were worried about me.”
“That was before I heard his side of the story,” she says. “I was wrong. What you guys had was romantic. He could be your OTP.”
“OTP?”
“You know, One True Pairing? Like Romeo and Juliet?”
“You realize they both died. But you’re right, I was happy,” I tell her. “And it was doomed. Him breaking up with his girlfriend doesn’t make it any better. Really, it just makes it worse.”
“You have a week, Summer. He’s kept your name on the list so you can still go with us.”
I’m trying to formulate a response to this when I see Justin’s Jeep pull down the gravel drive to our camper.
At second glance I see it’s not him inside, but Whit.
He jumps out and my heart thuds at the sweet, sexy smile he shoots in my direction.
My heart reacts to seeing him with more than a spark; it kicks into gear. “Catherine, I need to go.”
“Okay, but think about it—promise me.”
“I…” Whit looks good this morning. His shaggy hair is messy and cute. I hold up my hand to him, to let him know I need a minute.
“Think about it.”
“Fine, I’ll think about it—I really need to go,” I say to get her off the phone. I disconnect and stash the phone in my pocket. My heart pounds in that crushy kind of way and in that keeping-a-secret kind of way. Both equally dangerous.
“Hi,” Whit says, walking under the shady canopy. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, just talking to my friend from school. She’s about to go on this big trip to France and thinks I need to know every detail.”
“Sounds fun.”
“Yeah, it does.”
“So I have the day off,” he tells me and catches my hand in his.
“Oh, really? Strange, I have the day off, too,” I laugh.
“I thought you might. Want to spend it with me?”
He’s charming and handsome and my hand feels perfect in his. France? Who needs France? I squeeze his hand and say, “Yep.”
“Remind me next time to find out what we’re doing before I agree.” I’m knee-deep in the ocean trying not to have a panic attack. Both of my feet are on top of Whit’s and his arms are wrapped around my waist.
“Not that I mind this position, but really, I think we should try going further out.” He attempts to move his feet forward but I’m clinging to him so tightly it makes it difficult.
“Can’t we just go back on the beach? Because really, sharks can’t get you on the beach. Or crabs or sting rays or jellyfish.”
“Babe, none of those things are going to get you.”
Babe? If anyone else had called me that back home I would’ve punched them in the junk. Even Mason. But hearing the pet name come across Whit’s lips sends a flare of warmth straight to my belly.
I don’t let him know that. I already feel myself sinking in so deep with these guys. Every little thing they do draws me in. Instead, I crane my neck to give him my best skeptical look. It isn’t hard since I am entirely skeptical.
“You don’t know that. You don’t. You may have spent your whole life in the ocean and today, today! Could be the day a shark decides to eat you,” I explain. “And then me.”