by Sarra Cannon
I debate whether to ignore it or pick up when it stops ringing. I breathe a sigh of relief and place the phone back on my nightstand. Before I get off the bed, though, it starts ringing again.
Knowing Sophy, if she has something important to talk about, she won’t stop calling until I pick up.
I lay back across the bed.
“Hello?”
She sighs. “Thank God,” she says in her smooth British accent. “I was beginning to get really worried. You know I’ve called about half a dozen times since you left campus?”
Guilt rushes through me. I’ve seen the missed calls, but largely ignored them. Not because I don’t like Sophy. I adore Sophy. She’s one of my best friends in the whole world. But she’s also one of the only people in the world who knows the truth. “I’m sorry,” I say. “It’s been an adjustment being home.”
“I bet,” she says. “I don’t know how you can stand living in a town where the most exciting event of the year is a watermelon harvest.”
I laugh and roll my eyes. “It’s not that bad.”
“Seriously, tell me how you’re holding up,” she says. “Is your mom being nice to you?”
“I’m actually enjoying the quiet,” I say. “It’s nice to get away from the media circus on campus, anyway.”
“But you’re coming back, right? The media will get tired of Molly’s story eventually,” she says. “I think.”
I swallow. I don’t know what to say. Am I going back? The truth is, it’s more than just the whole Molly thing that makes staying at school difficult. Even before she came forward with her story, I still had to see him every once in a while. Running into him on campus when I least expected it was the worst part of it all. The way he’d sometimes look at me and smile, like we shared some secret joke. Or worse, the way he’d walk right past me without even glancing my way, like nothing had happened between us at all.
“I don’t like this silence,” she says. “Leigh Anne, don’t tell me you’re thinking about staying in Georgia?”
“Why not?” I sit up. It’s not the most ridiculous idea in the world.
“You can’t just quit school halfway through,” she says. “What will you do? You can’t honestly be thinking of transferring.”
I think about how Knox said he wasn’t the college type. Maybe I wasn’t the college type either. “I’m thinking of not even going back to school for a while.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she says. “You’re way too brilliant to quit.”
I shake my head. I’m the opposite of brilliant.
“I don't know what I want to do.” I pick at the corner of my pillowcase. “I only just got here. We’ve got months until fall semester anyway.”
“I know,” she says. “I just don’t want you to think you need to hide out down there forever. Don’t let him win, Leigh Anne. You’re stronger than that.”
I close my eyes and lay back against the headboard. Am I strong? I don’t feel strong. I feel beat-down. Exhausted. So tired of this mental fight with myself.
“We’ll see,” I say. “I’m going to take it one step at a time and try to enjoy the break. It’s really nice here in the summer.”
“Liar,” she says, and I can hear the smile in her tone. “It’s a hundred and eighty degrees there or something outrageous.”
I laugh. She’s right, but I don’t give her the satisfaction. Besides, today it’s only a high of ninety-seven.
“I miss you,” I say.
“Then pick up the phone every once in a while, okay?”
“Deal.”
“I miss you too, by the way,” she says. “Summer school’s not the same without you.”
We say our goodbyes and hang up, and for the rest of the day, my mind is stuck in Boston with her. And with the memories I left behind.
Chapter Ten
“Leigh Anne, are you coming? We’re going to be late for our reservations.” My mother calls up to me and I quickly check my makeup in the mirror one last time. I’m not sure why I care so much. I don’t even want to be with Preston anymore, but I still want to look good when I see him for the first time in almost two years. I mean, this is the first guy who made me feel butterflies. The first guy to take me all the way.
And now he’s dating the girl I caught him cheating with.
I need to look good when I see him.
“I’m coming,” I shout. I grab the black clutch from my bed and run down the stairs to meet them.
My father is wearing a black suit and for the first time, I notice how gray his hair has become. He looks so much older than I remember, and I wonder what life has been like for him over the past couple years. Has he been working too hard? I know there have been some problems at the factory lately, but I haven’t really paid attention to the details. I make a mental note to spend less time obsessing over myself and spend some time really catching up with him.
He smiles and opens the door for me. He’s such a gentleman, and I can feel his love for me radiating from his eyes. I feel bad for staying gone and just before he closes the door, I reach out to touch his hand.
Our eyes meet and I give him a small smile. He leans over and kisses my forehead, just like he did when I was a little girl.
“We really should hurry,” Mother says. “I told Andrea we’d be there by seven and it’s almost five minutes after.”
As if Andrea really gives a shit that we’re late. Andrea, my mother’s sister, is probably already three drinks deep at the bar. Still, I keep my mouth shut rather than disagree with my mother tonight. Better not to stir things up.
As soon as the car pulls on to the street in front of our house, my mother angles toward me in her seat and starts in on the questions.
“How was your day at the lake with Penelope, sweetheart? I have really missed seeing her around the house since you left,” she says.
I smile obediently even though it’s dark inside the car. “We had a great time,” I say. The truth is, I was bored almost the entire time. I love Penny, but the more time we spend together, the more I realize how much distance there is between us. We don’t really care about the same kinds of things anymore.
It’s the same with all my old friends. I’m not sure I really fit in with them anymore.
“Who else was there?” she asks. “Did you get to see anyone fun from the old gang?”
Gang. As if we are a wild group of thugs wreaking havoc all over town instead of a set of six rich girls who never do anything we aren’t told.
“Most of them,” I say, deciding to test what she knows. “Bailey couldn’t make it, though.”
I watch her face carefully. Does she know Bailey has been dating Preston?
Her lips press together briefly, and I instantly know that yes, she knows about Preston’s new girlfriend. And she has no plans to tell me about it. “That’s a shame.”
Dad pulls up to the valet and a guy I recognize from high school opens the door for me. I know we graduated together, but I’m completely blanking on his name, and for some reason, this really bothers me. It’s like there’s some kind of black hole where my memory used to be. Not that I was his best friend or anything, but it’s not like it’s been twenty years. It’s only been two.
How could I have lost touch with everyone so quickly?
He smiles and says hi, so I smile too and tell him it’s nice to see him again. He takes my father’s keys and drives away with a smile on his face and hopefully no idea I can’t place him.
I smooth the skirt on my green dress and my father offers his arm to me as we walk up the marble stairs toward the entrance. We’ve been here a thousand times, but tonight I’m nervous. I know Preston will be here with his family, and I wonder if Bailey will be with him. It shouldn’t matter to me at all, but it does. I can’t explain it.
Maybe it’s some kind of territorial thing. He was mine for so long, it’s hard to imagine him with someone else. Or maybe it’s the secret I carry about his relationship with Bailey when we were still toge
ther. Was he in love with her back then? I’d always thought it was only about the sex between them.
The thought of there being something real between them leaves me feeling empty and sad.
I decide to dust off my pageant smile and plaster it across my face like armor. Just in case. If they are here together, I don’t want either of them to see that it bothers me.
The doors open and the gold and crystal chandelier in the foyer sparkles in the light, welcoming me back. Straight ahead, the dining room is bustling with people. It’s a normal Friday night with all of Fairhope’s most influential families in attendance, drinking their cocktails and getting into everyone else’s business.
I remember thinking how fun it was to get all dressed up and come to a fancy place for dinner when I was a teenager, but now? I have a sudden distaste for this whole scene.
Nothing’s changed. Nothing but me.
I try to take a deep breath, but the stuffy air chokes me.
I’m nervous about running into Preston. Or rather, nervous about running into him and Bailey. I can already picture her hanging all over him like an old coat. I wonder if her expression will be one of guilt or pride.
The fact that she’s been avoiding me since I came home suggests guilt.
The hostess shows us to the same round table near the window where the Davis family has sat for more than a decade. I’m not surprised to see that Aunt Andrea isn’t even here yet. After a brief phone call, Mom announces her sister isn’t even going to make it tonight. Typical.
We sit down and peruse the menus, pretending we’ll order something exotic or different when everyone knows that Dad will order the steak and Mom will have the salmon.
My choice always used to be the chicken parmesan with broccoli and a side salad, and even though I consider trying something new, when the waiter comes, my old order comes tumbling out of my mouth almost without a thought. I guess old habits die hard. Or maybe I just want to feel like the old me tonight.
I hand the waiter my menu, then freeze as I see him across the room.
Not Preston.
Knox.
Suddenly, the breath is knocked from my lungs. I have to remind myself to breathe in before I pass out. He is the last person I ever expected to see here tonight.
He’s standing at the bar with a beer bottle in his hand. He’s leaning over, talking to the bartender and laughing.
Instead of his typical uniform of tshirt and a baseball cap, he’s wearing a button-up shirt. No hat. His hair is longer on top than I thought. Dark with the slightest hint of wildness.
The jeans are the same.
There’s something about Knox Warner that makes my temperature rise about ten degrees. I shrug the sweater from my shoulders and place it on the back of my chair.
The bare skin above my strapless dress feels warm like a sunburn.
All this just from being in the same crowded room as him? I know it’s insane. Maybe I’m crushing on him so hard because he held me as I cried and didn’t ask for anything in return. Or maybe I just like the way his jeans are tight in all the right places.
Either way, I know he’s nothing but trouble. My life is already incredibly complicated. The last thing I need right now is a summer romance.
Still, I can’t help looking up over my glass of water to study him again. He’s got this casualness to him. A laid-back sort of sense of self. Confident. Like he couldn’t give a shit what anyone in this room thinks of him.
And in this particular room, that was saying a lot.
He downs the beer and sets it on the bar. As he turns to go, his eye catches mine. My heart jumps into my throat, and my hand jerks, nearly spilling my water all over the table.
My mother shrieks as a few drops spill onto her gold beaded purse. She snatches it out of the way and clucks her tongue. “Leigh Anne, watch what you’re doing.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, pressing my napkin over the tiny spot of water.
By the time I look up again, Knox is gone. Disappointment floods through me. I search the dining room, but there’s no sign of him anywhere.
“Leigh Anne?”
I hear my name and turn my attention to the person who just appeared at my side. My mouth falls open. “Preston.”
He’s alone.
I stand and we hug.
“Wow,” is all he says at first. His eyes travel from my head to my toes. “You look amazing,” he says. “It looks like the big city agrees with you.”
My throat is suddenly dry as a bone. I quickly take a sip of water, then force a smile. “You look great too,” I say.
He does look good. Better than good. The same, but older. More mature. But looks can be deceiving. No one knows that better than me.
“It’s been a long time,” he says, sadness crossing his features. “Penny told me you were home, but I guess I needed to see it to believe it.”
I don’t know what to say, so I stay quiet and an awkward silence falls between us.
“Leigh Anne is going to be here all summer,” my mother says, her voice just a little too happy. “Maybe even longer, if we’re lucky.”
I want to kick her for saying that. There’s been no decision about whether I’m staying and it feels like a betrayal that she would discuss that in public. My angry look is lost on her, though. She’s staring up at Preston like he invented water.
“Is that true?” He studies my face, but I can’t read his expression at all.
“I’m not sure,” I say. “We’ll see how the summer goes, I guess.”
It’s a dumb answer, but I wasn’t expecting to have to answer questions about going back to school.
Preston shoves his hands into the pockets of his expensive navy suit. “I should probably get back to my table before they order without me,” he says with a laugh. “It’s really great to see you Leigh. We should catch up.”
“Sure,” I say. “It’s good to see you too.”
He lingers until I look up and our eyes meet. I wait for the butterflies to come.
Only, they never do.
Chapter Eleven
I wake up feeling restless.
I'm struggling to try to fit in here. To forget and move on, but all of a sudden, the thought of spending today with old friends makes me sick.
The few times we’ve all gotten together, I've had brief moments of fun, but mostly I'm just bored. I don't know the people they're always talking about from school. I don't care about the same high-school style drama they're still living in. Plus, it’s getting harder to avoid questions about my own life. Sooner or later, someone is going to catch on and start asking tougher questions.
I need something new to take my mind off it all.
After a few hours of playing mindless games online, I finally go searching for my mom to see if she needs help in the garden or around the house. Not surprisingly, I find her sitting at the kitchen table flipping through yesterday’s newspaper. She has her usual cup of coffee in front of her and offers me a cup.
I shrug, pour myself a cup and sit down. “I need something to do,” I say. “Do you need help with anything?”
“Why don’t you call some of your friends? I’m sure they’d love to spend as much time with you as they can while you’re home,” she says. “You could always go to the mall or go for some ice cream. Just like old times.”
“We’re not fifteen years old anymore, Mom. Most of them are in summer school or have jobs, anyway.” I pick up a section of newspaper she’s discarded and see a listing for help wanted.
I sit up straighter. I could get a job. I’m not sure why I didn’t think of it sooner. I’ve never actually had a job before. My parents have always had plenty of money and as long as I kept my grades up, they were always giving me enough to do the things I wanted to do. Plus, I dated the richest guy in town all through high school.
In college, there simply wasn’t time.
But now, why not? It’s the perfect way to spend my summer. It'll keep me busy and give me an excuse.<
br />
I lean forward and start scanning the listings, searching for anything that looks remotely interesting. Something fun where I can make good money and meet people my own age, but something busy so I won't have time to think.
There are a few ads for secretarial work and entry-level positions in places like the hospital, but none of them sound very interesting. Then I see the perfect thing. The local steak house, Brantley’s, is looking for servers. I fold the paper so that the listing is right in the middle, then stand up, leaving my untouched coffee on the table.
I grab the keys to my new car off the rack near the back door.
“Where are you going?” my mother calls after me.
“I found something to do,” I say just before the screen door slams behind me.
##
It’s only ten in the morning when I get there and Brantley’s isn’t open yet.
I pull on the outside door, but it’s locked. I frown and peer through the glass doors. I look at the ad again and see that they don’t list a certain time to stop by. Maybe I came too early?
I walk around the side and notice a few cars parked toward the back. I decide to go around back and just see if there’s anyone here. A heavy-set woman sits on a picnic table behind the restaurant, smoking a cigarette. She looks up as I approach and nods toward the paper in my hand.
“You here for the waitress job?”
I nod. “I tried the front door but it’s locked,” I say. “Should I come back later?”
I’m pretty sure I recognize this woman, but her name won’t come to me. Martha? Something like that.
“You’re here, ain't ya? Might as well go ahead and interview. I'm Maria,” she says. “What’s your name?”
“Leigh Anne Davis.”
She squints up at me, the skin around her eyes and forehead wrinkling. “Leigh Anne Davis. I remember you. Haven’t seen you around much for a few years, though. Didn’t figure you for the type who’d come looking for a job like this.”