Chapter 27
Dear Diary,
Today felt like one of those days you wish you could bottle up and keep forever, which is probably why I’m writing it all down before it slips away.
We were celebrating—I’m not even sure what, exactly.
I think it started as something small, like the end of summer or Eli catching a fish or Jo Ellen deciding life should always include cake, and then it turned into a full-blown beach party.
Everyone was there, moving in and out of little clusters, laughing, talking, soaking up the sun-warmed world of Destin.
Tessa, of course, was radiant, which meant the center of gravity had returned to its usual position.
She floated through the crowd like she always does, bright and golden and impossible not to notice.
People orbit around Tessa without even realizing they’re doing it, and Eli is no exception. If anything, he’s worse than most.
It’s not obvious if you’re not paying attention.
He’s not following her around or hanging on her every word like some kind of lovesick puppy.
It’s quieter than that. It’s in the way his attention shifts when she speaks, the way he angles himself toward her in a group without thinking, the way he seems just a little more engaged, a little more alive, when she’s near.
And I watched it happen all afternoon. Which means I also watched something else. I watched Kate.
I watched Kate watch Eli. And it broke my heart a little. She thinks no one notices, but I did. Kate is the smartest, kindest, most real person I know, and she would love Eli Lawson with her whole soul if he’d let her. But he won’t, because he’s blinded by Tessa.
Why is he so dumb? And Kate just stands in the shadow, pretending the light doesn’t matter to her, when anyone with eyes can see she was made for it.
She’s so careful about it, too. She never stares outright, never does anything that would draw attention to herself, but her eyes find him anyway, over and over again, like they can’t help it.
And every time he turns toward Tessa instead, it’s like something small inside her just… quietly folds in on itself.
And I hate it.
Because I adore Tessa, I do, but sweet Kate is everything.
She’s genuine and thoughtful and funny in that dry, unexpected way that sneaks up on you.
She sees people—really sees them—in a way that almost no one else does.
She doesn’t demand attention, she earns it, and that should matter more than it apparently does.
Tessa is easy to notice. Kate requires you to look.
And Eli—my otherwise smart, capable, competent brother—cannot seem to get past the obvious. I ask again—why is he so dumb?
At one point, I watched them all standing together, the three of them, and it felt like watching two completely different stories happening at the same time.
Tessa was in the middle of telling some ridiculous tale, animated and sparkling, Eli smiling at her in that way he does.
Kate stood slightly to the side, listening, contributing when it made sense, laughing at the right moments.
Perfectly placed, perfectly overlooked.
Later, there was dancing—of course there was dancing—and someone dragged Eli into it. Tessa followed and they ended up in the middle of everything, moving and laughing and drawing every eye without even trying.
Kate didn’t join them. She stayed back near the dunes, talking to me for a while about something completely normal—college applications, I think, or maybe a book she was reading—but her attention kept drifting, just for a second at a time, back to where Eli and Tessa were.
“You should go dance,” I told her, because I couldn’t not say it.
She shook her head, smiling in that small, composed way of hers, saying she was fine.
And she was. That’s the thing. Kate is always fine. But I wanted more for her than fine.
I wanted Eli to turn around and see her the way I see her, the way anyone paying attention should see her, and realize that everything he thinks he wants is standing right there, just waiting for him to notice.
Maybe someday he’ll figure it out, but today was not that day.
And for once, I kind of wish I could reach into someone else’s story and fix it.
Anyway, the cake was excellent, and Peter and I danced near each other, which I’m taking as a win.
Love,
Viv