“Let’s have lunch.” He reached in front of me and grabbed a fry, popping it into his mouth. “Then, we can go for a walk by the water and catch up.”
“Bummer. I have an appointment,” I tried to sound sincere while silently hoping he’d choke on his ego.
“You won’t win.” He seemed pleased with himself. “Our star-crossed love story isn’t done aligning. I’m willing to bet on it.”
“Don’t be so sure of yourself, Romeo.”
“I get the feeling you’re not happy to see me,” he said. “Santi, gin and tonic! Make it a double. One for my lady, too.”
“You think? And I don’t do booze.”
“Right. I forgot.”
A lull between songs made the gap in our conversation emptier.
“Hey. What’s wrong?” The candor behind Zack’s voice was transparent while he pushed a stray strand of hair from my face.
I pulled away. “What’s wrong? Did you forget how we ended?”
His shoulders drooped and he cocked his head to the side. The paired set of movements equated to Zack faking skepticism. “Come on. You’re not still angry about that whole thing, are you?”
“Mad? You’re—” Anger swelled through me. I balled my hands into fists and took a deep breath. “The reason why I only swim in the cove late at night or if the beach is empty.”
“You’re overreacting. It’s not like—”
My lower lip trembled. “You’re the reason why I let my gym membership lapse. You’re the reason why I can’t walk around in a sports bra.”
He sighed. “Dramatic much?”
“No. Don’t belittle me.” I listed off additional reasons on my fingers. “You’re the reason why I don’t come to Steele Falls. You’re the reason why I won’t strip down to my swimsuit at pool parties. You’re the reason why I’ll always have long hair. You’re the reason why I live in fear, every God damned day, of someone finding out what we… what you did.”
“Jade…”
“People always talk about finding a ‘why’ when they’re discovering themselves or when they set goals. They dig deep. Give it meaning. I learned one of mine.” My voice cracked. “You’re my ‘why’, Zachary Main.”
“I’m flattered you—”
“Don’t be,” I cut him off.
“You’re why I have suspicions, why I can’t trust, and why I dissect any man who stands within five feet of me.”
“Jade…” he repeated more firmly.
I stood up. “What?”
“You’re remembering things wrong. Back then, you didn’t complain. And I have proof.” His eyes stared into mine again, that time in a battle to establish control.
I refused to be the first to back down by looking away, but I couldn’t stop the blur of tears. “Fuck your proof. If you’d have asked for permission, it’d have been a hard no.”
“In case you forgot, this D was for your V only. You’re acting like I cheated.”
“Don’t go there. I’ve been on the losing end of the whole infidelity game, too. What you did feels worse; it crossed a major line.”
“You’re getting defensive over nothing. No one cares.”
“I care! And it’s like you just said a few minutes ago, ‘talk of the town.’” I blinked and tried to pull those salty droplets back in before they spilled down my face. He didn’t deserve them. “It’s only a matter of time before Steele Falls plays a teenage game of Telephone and communicates with Cannon Cove…”
Zack sat down next to where I stood and quieted long enough to make it weird. “More than a year has gone by and no one has…” He took a moment. “Believe it or not, I miss you. The way we split? It’s not what I wanted. Not for us.”
His lips moved, but I didn’t process what he said. Maybe my ears tried to protect my heart. Everything about Zack should’ve put me on high alert— since day one. I knew better, but I didn’t listen and stupidly got involved. Roxy warned me. Bo warned me. Pretty sure dingbat Gwen would’ve warned me if given the chance. I think I even tried to warn myself. Zachary Main ranked at the top of my anti-bucket list.
He dared a few inches closer before standing and turning toward me, his lips dangerously close to my earlobe.
I closed my eyes, wishing his aftershave wouldn’t strike me so hard. The bergamot. The white fir. The clove. The grapefruit. The tangerine. All of it tied to specific emotions fluttering through my mind, and I fought tooth and nail to rid those feelings from my chest.
Next, he reached for my hand and rubbed my knuckles. “I won’t lie. It’s been rough. So rough without you.”
I did everything in my power to tune him out. Part of me feared I’d fall under his spell again, knowing firsthand he was manipulative, a master at spiking his lies with just enough truth to make them taste like candy.
“You and I went through a lot. I wanted to call, and I’ve dialed your number a few times. But I didn’t follow through. Maybe I was afraid of how you’d react.”
I glanced out the oval-shaped window in front of the pool table. From where I stood, I could see the water glittering from afar, but I also saw people walk by close-up. A couple strolled, lost in their conversation. A cyclist zipped past. Birds dotted the skyline. A man’s head caught my attention, bobbing down the sidewalk.
Shaggy hair.
Olive-toned skin.
Angry expression.
I did a double-take.
It was Miles McCullough.
I set down my napkin, afraid to tear my gaze from the window. Quickly, I fished a ten and a five out of my pocket and dropped them on the bar.
“Wait. You’re leaving? Just like that?” Zack asked. “I’m pouring my heart out to you here.”
I grabbed my tote bag and half the sandwich before heading for the doorway. The jingling of bells chimed as I opened the door, their sound cheering me on in never looking back. It was time to end the chapter of my life involving Zachary Main. Would I still live in fear? Absolutely. But I had to turn that page.
Bracing the door handle, I turned around and stared at the man who’d wronged me worse than anyone else. “Hey, Zack? You dropped something.”
He glanced down at the ground and then up at me. “What?”
“My standards, and I won’t let it happen again.”
From thirty feet away, and with the distance increasing between us, I spotted Miles as a motorcycle whizzed past him. His stature hurried along the sidewalk with his head down and his hands jammed in his pockets. I darted across the street on the balls of my toes, trying to be nimble like a gazelle. Reality didn’t lie. I resembled a clumsy penguin.
If Miles moved out from Lucy’s and stayed with Sienna in Cannon Cove, why was he back in Steele Falls? Did he stop by for a spew-and-skidoo with Lucy? Was he coming clean about his abrupt departure? Did he bring his eraser because there were too many zeroes on the check? Nausea spilled through me all over again.
Miles made a right turn on Main Street, and I noticed street parking on the left. Bingo. The Dick Mobile was parallel parked near a streetlight. Shiny, black tires subtly caught my eye, but the graffiti and keyed penis, complete with miniature ballecules, screamed for my attention. A pedestrian stopped near the truck bed and took a selfie next to the artwork. In this town, that’ll go viral in no time. Knowing Miles’s jerkbag truth stretched beyond his dirty looks gave me marginal comfort.
A no-walk sign warned me in flashing red, but I ignored it. Fixated on my target, I didn’t realize I’d robbed a car of its free right turn when I darted along the crosswalk stripes. The forceful sound of a truck horn didn’t disappoint and likely sounded all the way to Cannon Cove. I dove behind a newspaper receptacle and cursed. Pull it together, Jade. If you don’t, you’ll go viral, too.
My heart thumped hard as I walked the fine line of peril, stay
ing far enough away to not catch his attention but close enough to ensure he didn’t leave my view. This must be what a lion feels like when it stalks a zebra.
Next, Miles executed an unforeseen move. He made a ninety-degree turn and headed for the entrance of a giant brick building. Near the far edge of the parking lot, two thick poles supported a rectangular sign stretching twenty feet into the air. Random blotches of rust left it looking like a beginner’s patchwork quilt. Black lettering spelled STEELE FALLS AQUATICS CENTER on pale blue background overhead.
I drew a deep breath. What business could Dick Giblet have at a community pool? He didn’t have a gym bag with him. After counting to twenty-twatapotamus in my head, I felt justified in investigating.
But my feet felt differently about the situation and told me not to move. I glanced up from the sidewalk. Stray bits of gravel crunched underfoot on the slab of pothole-riddled asphalt when I shifted my weight. It reminded me of when I approached Miles outside Eli’s after the pool party. That minor sound made me second-guess everything.
Maybe I should go home.
Maybe I should forget today ever happened.
Maybe I should bail on the wedding.
Maybe… I shouldn’t give in.
In a dark sea of maybes, my reason lit up like a lighthouse. If not for me, I needed to follow through on finding answers. For Sienna. For Lucy. For any other girl Miles planned on using… or already used. One foot cautiously stepped in front of the other with unease.
Before I knew it, I stood on the rubber mat outside the facility. My hands were sweaty. After I gripped the cold metal of the handle, I couldn’t turn back.
The door closed behind me a few seconds later, giving me a needed nudge forward with its weight. A wall of heat and the scent of chlorine hit me. The air felt thick in my lungs, and a splash of nostalgia took me back to high school phys ed classes. To the left, glass windows showcased a long, rectangular pool. To the right, three doors were labeled with signs for locker rooms.
A young woman sat behind a glass window, her hair tied back in two messy braids. She doodled in a spiral-bound notebook and hummed to a tune from her headphones. I didn’t recognize it. Her frizzy halo of stray auburn curls kinked tight, her nose covered with a splatter of freckles. The woman’s cotton shirt was carrot orange, clashing against her hair. A small emblem on her shirt pocket formed a circle of waves. In the middle of that logo, the same bold lettering mimicked the sign outside. Underneath, the cashier’s name read, “Rona.”
The woman jumped when she noticed my presence. “Sorry. I didn’t hear you come in.” She pulled the headphones down until they horseshoed around the back of her neck. “Just one for the lap pool?”
“Um. I’m… not here to swim. I’m looking for someone.”
“Aren’t we all?” Rona nearly swooned from her chair with a dreamy sigh. “And you’re not the first to pick up someone at the local pool.” She glimpsed over her shoulder to ensure we were alone. “We have this old mechanic guy named Eddie, and he—”
I cut her off, the memories of shissing too much for me to process. “Not what I meant. It’s pressing. Actually, an emergency.” Suddenly, I remembered the envelope and check in my tote bag and fished around for them, giving up a few seconds later.
“An emergency? Oh, gosh!” She stood in surprise as she swallowed my lie whole. “Should I call 9-1-1? I know CPR. They taught me this trick. If I do chest compressions to the beat of—”
“Not that kind of emergency.”
“You sure? I hope everything’s okay.”
“Me, too. I’m looking for,” I paused and cringed before saying his name, “Seth.”
“Seth McCullough?” Her expression completed a strange transformation— from concerned to confused, and then back to concerned, lastly hinging on curious. “Are you his… girlfriend?”
“Girlfriend?” I fired back. “Why would you… no.”
Rona’s shoulders relaxed slightly, enough for me to notice.
My curiosity piqued. “Why? Are you,” I stayed casual, “you know, interested?”
“Yeah. I mean, who around here isn’t? He’s hot.” She leaned in a few inches closer and cut her voice to a third of its volume, “People around town call him Rib Cage. It’s because—”
“I’ve heard.”
“All of us had a bet going, to see who could break him first,” she said distractedly while glancing to her right.
“And?” I asked before I could stop myself.
Rona shrugged. “A lot gave up, but some of us remain hopeful.”
I trailed after her gaze to my left. The wide expanse of glass revealed a cluster of teenage girls flocked around Miles near the edge of a pool. He wore black swim trunks and an orange t-shirt similar to Rona’s. Sections of dark, wet hair dripped crystal droplets onto his shoulders. I noticed his bicep flex when he reached up to push a lock from his face.
The five teen girls surrounding him wore black swimsuits with matching orange t-shirts. Two high school-aged boys stood nearby, arms crossed, their outfits modeling Miles’s. I watched him gesture toward the pool with a kickboard in his hand. Then, he spoke and finished it off with a lopsided smile. The girls followed whatever he said with a fit of giggles.
“Well?” Rona asked.
I snapped my attention back to the cashier. “Huh?”
“I asked if you were.” Rona clicked the top of an ink pen three times.
“If I’m…”
Four more clicks. “Interested.”
I glanced toward the glass again. “Interested in what?”
“Seth.”
“No!” The answer spilled from my lips without hesitation. “Didn’t I say that earlier?”
“Nope.” She pointed the pen at me and closed one eye. “Before, I asked if you were his girlfriend.”
I shook my head and fought back laughter at the thought. “Nuh-uh.”
Again, Rona appeared relieved. “You can access the pool deck through the locker room. Walk on the arrows. You can’t miss it.” She nodded to my right.
“Thanks.” I followed her directions.
Showers sprayed in the distance and steam clouded the air. I walked past three long rows of yellow-tinted lockers. Some hung open, empty. Others were closed with oversized locks bolting their doors in place.
I didn’t slow my pace and headed through an area with commercial pole showers on either side, approaching a sign that said “POOL” with an outline of a hand pointing to the left. I continued down the long hallway and shoved the door handle.
It felt like I entered another world as I read over the rules in large, blue, capital letters on the far wall. NO RUNNING. NO HORSEPLAY. NO FOOD ON THE POOL DECK. CHILDREN SHOULD BE WITH AN ADULT AT ALL TIMES. RESPECT THE LIFEGUARD.
Distant splashes and laughter captured my attention next while an instructor firmly coaxed someone at the end of a diving board. A group of kids shivered and walked past me in a single file line, led by someone else in an orange shirt and swimsuit. But none of the scenery held a candle to the sharp smell of chlorine taking centerstage.
The rubber on my street shoes sounded against the wet gray-and-white tiles with every movement. Screech. Attention drew to me in an area where everyone else walked barefoot. Screech. And I mean everyone. Screech. I wondered if I’d broken sacred pool protocol and considered removing my tennis shoes and socks. Screech. But it was too late for that. Screech. I stood out in the open. Screech. The situation already felt like it hinged on being a disaster, so I could only move forward. Screech.
I had nowhere to go. There wasn’t a newspaper receptacle, a Fill & Spill, or any penile pickup trucks to hide behind. Jade Nash was a moving target. A screeching, moving target. Even my disguise failed me. I didn’t blend in— I stuck out in my jeans and hoodie, complete with my baseball cap
and sunglasses.
“What am I doing?” I muttered under my breath, a drip of sweat trickling down my back.
Screech. It was the loudest yet and the one that gave my position away.
Miles’s gaze hiccupped when he scanned the room and saw me.
Screech.
A look crossed his face, and I couldn’t pinpoint it. Perplexed? Maybe. Worried? Kind of. Anger? Yep. He definitely had some concentrated rage radiating from his aura. Any way I looked at it, one fact remained— Miles McCullough wasn’t smiling.
I stood near a rack of fluorescent-colored life vests and waited for him to close in on the remaining distance between us.
“What are you doing here?” His eyes locked with mine.
“What are you doing here?” It was the worst combination of words that could’ve exploded from my mouth.
Way to go, Jade. Real smooth.
He crossed his arms. “When a person takes on an activity in exchange for monetary compensation, it’s called a job.”
I stared at him blankly while a water aerobics class started, the clean version of EMF’s Unbelievable startling me from a nearby boombox.
“Let me dumb it down for you. I work here.”
His verbal lashing whipped me hard, but I didn’t move. “Isn’t that kind of… creepy?”
He surveyed the room. “What’s creepy?”
“You, slummin’ it at the pool. With those.” I nodded at the flock of giggling, teen girls who pretended to ignore us.
“Who?” He glanced over his shoulder. “The swim instructors? I’m not picking up what you’re throwing down.”
“Throwing’s right. Look at them. They’re practically throwing themselves at you. It’s gross.”
“They’re kids in high—”
I threw my head back and placed my hands on my hips. “There are laws against nailing minors, you know.”
“Hang on a… wow.” He met my accusing eyes without flinching. “Once again, you’ve got me figured out.”
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