Chapter 13
On Saturday, I leave Cactus with Margot along with a bag of cronuts. She looks so happy I can’t help laughing.
Before I leave, Margot reaches out her hand and squeezes my shoulder. “Your hair is beautiful. You should wear it down more often.”
My hand flies up to my hair, resting over my shoulders. I rarely wear it like this. Actually, I never wear it like this—undone and not in some kind of bun or ponytail. “Thank you, Margot.”
“Sure you won’t be freezing in just a T-shirt? It can get chilly on the beach in the evening.”
“I think I’ll be okay.”
“A sweater never hurt nobody.”
My smile grows. “True. Maybe I’ll grab one on my way.”
I won’t—it’s still warm outside—but Margot looks pleased. “Good. Now, off you go and have a wonderful evening, dear. And please, don’t forget the porch light when you get home tonight.”
“I won’t be that late, Margot.”
But Margot is relentless. “Porch light.”
I give in and nod. “I promise.”
“Thank you. Now, have a nice evening, honey. I know I will,” she says and dangles the cronut bag in front of her face. I laugh again and then I leave.
When I pass Liz’s house on my way to the beach, I notice how different it looks from when I first came here.
The grass is cut and there’s patio furniture that looks like new—well, almost. I also bought some string lights the other day and spent hours hanging them over the patio.
If anyone ever said it was easy to hang string lights over a patio, they lied.
But I must say I’m pleased with the result.
It looks cozy and homey. I don’t know why, but I want to sit there with Mom and Clara. I know they both would love it.
It’s a beautiful evening. The sky is a perfect mix between pink and lavender, and the sea is almost still—just small waves rolling in.
If I weren’t on my way to something, I would’ve sat down in the sand and spent my evening here.
Maybe walked back and picked up the wine bottle I bought on my first day here but still haven’t opened. And a glass, of course, I’m not a slob.
It’s not hard to see where I’m going. There’s a buzz of people in the middle of the croissant and a big projector screen.
Sofas, armchairs and picnic blankets are scattered in the sand—just as Iris said there would be.
This is by far the coziest outdoor cinema I’ve ever seen, and I know Pinterest would die for this.
The closer I get, though, the more I remember that I don’t know anyone here. Maybe I should’ve asked Iris where to meet her because this can get awkward. I try to call her but immediately reach voicemail. Well, awkward it is then.
I look around, feeling like the first day in school, when I hear a voice behind me. But it’s not Iris’s voice. Unfortunately.
“Lost, Collins?”
I close my eyes, both from annoyance and from something else I don’t want to acknowledge. Then I turn slowly. “No, are you?”
His hair is messy as usual, and his look is bored. Audrey is with him—she’s apparently a dog who enjoys Jaws. It disturbs me that he looks so good in a hoodie and a pair of jeans. Again, what a waste.
But something happens when our eyes meet. He looks almost alarmed. The comeback he seemed to have prepared never comes. Instead, he looks taken aback by something. We stare at each other for several moments before I hear someone yelling my name.
“June!” Relief courses through me when I spot Iris, Austin and Fey waving at me from a sofa at the front. The first grader found her friends. Benjamin’s eyes narrow and with one last glare, I leave him and walk up to my friends. I feel his eyes on my back all the way over there.
Honestly, I can’t believe that I’ve met him twice since Vomit Disaster and he hasn’t teased me about it one single time.
And no one seems to know about it. I bet he’s waiting for the right moment to embarrass me, but I guess that’s a problem for another day.
I really dread that day, though—when I’ll be known here as Drunk June.
Or Puke June. Why did he have to be my witness? Of all people, it just had to be him?
Iris throws her arms around me and squeezes. “You’re here. Cozy, right?”
“It’s . . . amazing,” I say earnestly, glancing around. Benjamin is meeting up with Jake, who immediately squats down to pet Audrey. Wow, dog friends all of them apparently. When I turn back, I see Iris watching Jake and Audrey, too, but when she notices me, she smiles hastily and looks away.
“Popcorn anyone?”
We buy snacks and sodas, and I don’t know if I’m imagining it, but it feels like Austin lingers by my side, making sure we’re always right next to each other, which reminds me of what Iris told me about him liking me.
“Have you seen Jaws before, June?” he asks when we walk back with our snacks.
“Yeah, about a hundred years ago.” My dad showed it to Clara and me the year I turned twelve and Clara nine, resulting in none of us getting in the water for the rest of that summer and Mom being furious with Dad.
“You like it?”
“I do, but I doubt I dare to swim after this,” I say and laugh. Austin puts his arm around my shoulders, gently pressing me against him.
“You can swim with me, I’ll keep you safe.”
Since I don’t know what to respond with, all I do is offer a small smile in return. I look around for Benjamin but can’t see him anywhere. Maybe he’s here for a date? But he doesn’t do relationships, whatever that means. I wonder if that includes dating, too?
“I had to fight for this couch,” Iris informs us matter-of-factly and by the look on her face, she’s not lying.
“Did someone get hurt?”
“Maybe. I’d rather not say.”
I reach her my hand. “Congratulations, champ.” We shake hands while trying to keep our faces straight. Then I snap a picture of the whole scenery and send it to Clara.
Clara: Oh my god. Dying of jealousy right now
Me: Wish you were here.
Clara: Me too.
“The last movie night, they showed a zombie movie, and Logan Green fell asleep and started sleepwalking . . . I can tell you that it went kind of downhill from there,” Fey tells me from her seat next to Austin.
“No . . . ?” I say and giggle.
“Yes. His husband has forbidden him to come here tonight.”
“Poor Logan.”
“I know.”
People are still buzzing around, taking this moment to talk to friends they haven’t seen in a while, but when the screen suddenly lights up, all the buzz immediately falls silent, and people hurry back to their seats.
The sky has already changed color, all purple now, casting everything in a perfect dusk—truly the ideal scenery for this movie.
I sink further down at the end of the couch, where I’m sitting next to Austin, and shiver a little when the opening scene of the movie starts.
From out of nowhere, an elderly man wearing a shirt and tie pops up beside me and almost gives me a heart attack.
Jesus, you don’t sneak up on a woman watching Jaws in the dark on a beach like that.
But then I catch the expression on his face, and my fright is laced with concern. “Are you okay?” I ask him.
“I heard there are seats available at the front, but . . . I guess they’re already taken?” Watching him gaze around at all the occupied seats, with a cane in one hand and a small bucket of popcorn in the other, is all I need to shoot to my feet.
“Here, take my seat,” I whisper, feeling the eyes of the others on me.
The man, who has turtles on his tie, shakes his head. “I can’t do that, then you have nowhere to sit.”
“I’ll find something. Don’t worry about me.”
“No, bu—”
”I insist.” I help him down and the grateful expression on his face melts my heart a little. “I’ll go sit somewhere else,” I whisper to the others. Austin’s brows quirk and his mouth pops open, but before he can say anything, I hunch down and sneak away.
But as I move down the rows of sofas, armchairs, and blankets, I realize that the sweet man really was right, there are no available seats anywhere.
Wow, this is going to be embarrassing—people are already giving me acid looks because I block their view.
And if I just plop my ass down here, I won’t be able to see the whole screen.
I might as well go home. Maybe I should? It’s not like me to panic, but . . .
“What are you doing, Collins? Enjoying not letting anyone see the movie?”
Of course. Just my luck.
I grimace maturely at him, crossing my arms. “Very funny. I gave up my seat for an old man.”
“How noble of you. And now you’re punishing everyone who has a seat?”
I glare at him. Jake, sitting in an armchair a couple of feet away from Benjamin with Audrey on his lap, throws us a questioning look.
“You know what, I’m going home. Have a nice evening.”
I turn to leave.
“Ben definitely has room for you in his chair.”
I spin around just in time to see the quick look Benjamin shoots Jake. “Thanks, but I’m not desperate.” I think I’d rather swim with sharks, actually.
I begin to leave again when I hear Benjamin’s voice. “Collins, he’s right. It’s a big chair, we’ll both fit.” He sounds tired.
“Funny.”
“I’m not trying to be funny.”
“First, there’s no chance I share anything with you, and second, in no universe does that fit both of us,” I whisper-yell at him, nodding at the yellow armchair.
“Good god, woman, can you just sit?” a man behind Benjamin yells and gets several supportive hums.
Before I can react, I feel a warm hand around my wrist and soon I’m sitting on Benjamin’s lap. “What the . . .”
“Shhh.”
My head spins around in a millisecond. Did he just hush me?
“Just watch the movie, Collins.” He adjusts me on his lap. The armchair is big, yes, but this man takes up a lot of space, so there’s no way we both can sit on the cushion.
“Over my dead—”
I’m silenced by a big hand covering my mouth. I stare at him. How dare he?
“We’re just sharing a chair, nothing else. Take it easy.” His hand smells of soap. We stare at each other, our faces inches away. The rim around his irises is an even darker shade of green than the rest of his eyes.