Brandon stopped dead.
“It’s good, I promise,” Hallie told him. “It won a bunch of Oscars, and . . .”
The words died on her lips. Standing in the driveway, with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket, was the one face she’d never expected to see.
Dakota.
“Hey,” he said, with that familiar smile. “Brandon.” Dakota gave him the guy nod. “How’s it going, man?”
Brandon didn’t respond. He was frozen next to Hallie, tension radiating from his body as he glared at Dakota. Dakota stared back, his expression changing as he looked from Brandon to Hallie and back again.
Hallie nudged Brandon, breaking the face-off. “You go ahead,” she told him. “I’ll be over in a minute.”
He gave her a searching look. “You sure?”
Hallie nodded. “Order extra-crispy,” she said, amazed to find her voice emerge steady and sure. “But no —”
“Anchovies,” Brandon finished, finally relaxing. “Got it.” He glared one last time at Dakota and then sauntered past.
Dakota cleared his throat. “So . . .” he started, moving closer. “Hey.”
Hallie stared back evenly. “Hey.” She expected a rush of feeling — anger, longing, regret, something — but instead, she felt nothing. Nothing! As if the months of pained longing and fervent sobs had burned all her emotion away.
“You guys look pretty friendly.” Dakota tried a teasing smile. “Is there something going on I should know about?”
“I don’t think so,” Hallie said coolly. “I don’t think you have the right to know anything about my life anymore.”
Dakota’s smile dropped. “I guess I deserve that,” he said quietly.
Hallie sighed. “What are you doing here?”
“We’re back in L.A. now,” Dakota explained, “doing final mixes and promo for the album.”
“And going to movie premieres.”
He looked away. “Yeah. I’m, sorry about that. I wanted to warn you, about the photos, and events, but —”
“It’s fine.” Hallie bit out the words. “It’s nothing to do with me anymore.”
Dakota looked back at her, eyes full of something she could swear was regret. “I never meant . . .” He trailed off. “What I mean is . . . I’m sorry, about the way everything went down. I should never have treated you like that, or even ended it at all.”
Hallie was still trying to process those last words, when Dakota stepped forward. “You have to know,” he said, pleading, “it wasn’t because I stopped loving you. Hallie . . .” He clutched her hand. “Things just got so confusing, and then the label, and Talia . . .” He held on, as if for dear life. “Please, I loved you. I still do.”
Hallie stood there, still numb. His words seemed to drift somewhere, just out of reach — not connecting, not making her feel anything at all. But that made sense, she realized, looking at that face that had consumed her every thought since the night she first laid eyes on it — nothing so desperate as the way she’d felt about him could ever last for long. She’d exhausted every last ounce of love for this boy, blazing through it like a wildfire, and now Hallie was left with nothing more than a small, empty place in her heart where he used to be.
It was over.
Hallie sighed, feeling the last breath of devotion leave her body. “I hope it’s worth it,” she said quietly. “I hope you picked right.”
Dakota’s face seemed to slip for a moment. His eyes were pained, and as his hand held on tight to hers, the touch took Hallie back: to those nights driving around downtown, her fingers laced between his.
Nothing else in the world had mattered. She’d belonged to him, completely.
That was the problem.
“Good-bye.”
Hallie kissed him gently on the cheek, and walked away.
It was March; the tree-lined streets of Beverly Hills were bright with blossoms, and Grace was turning seventeen.
“Are you sure you don’t want a party?” Amber asked hopefully as they sat over coffee in the sun-drenched kitchen. “Just something small. A hundred people, top DJs, a cake in the shape of the periodic table . . . You know, intimate!”
Grace shook her head vigorously. After the dramas of the past year, she would have happily chosen a quiet evening in with a book, but Amber, she suspected, would keel over at that suggestion. “I want to keep it simple,” Grace said instead. “Just family, and maybe Palmer.”
“And Brandon too,” Amber added, with a meaningful grin.
Grace turned, following her gaze out to the back lawn, where their neighbor sat running lines with Hallie. It looked like a death scene, but every time Hallie fell to the grass in her final writhings, Brandon would say something, or poke her with his toe, and Hallie would fall about in hysterics.
“She looks happy,” Grace said, the knot of worry she kept for her sister loosening another notch. Since the day Dakota had come by, they hadn’t heard another word about him. Now Hallie was taking acting classes, and booking jobs, and making plans to move out; passing newsstands plastered with updates of his love affair without a second glance.
“She sure is.” Amber turned back. “But what about you? Are you sure you don’t want a big blowout? We could book out a restaurant, and get a band you like to come play —”
“No!” Grace cried again. “Small. Simple. A family dinner, or a beach picnic. Promise?”
Amber sighed, pouting.
“I mean it,” Grace warned her. “I hate surprises. The last thing I want is to walk in and find half my class at school pretending like they’re my best friends. I’ll turn around and walk right out.”
“Fine,” Amber agreed reluctantly. “I promise. But I’m taking you for a girl’s day out, pampering at the salon, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me!”
Grace’s birthday dawned warm and sunny, and — after Grace spent five solid hours being pummeled, smeared, straightened, and polished by Amber’s team of quasi-sadistic spa experts — a caravan of cars wound their way out to the Malibu shore.
“This is your idea of simple?” Grace laughed, as Auggie and Brandon struggled to unload a trunk full of gourmet foods, complete with wicker picnic baskets and matching designer blankets.
“But it is!” Amber protested, wide-eyed. She had a silk scarf wrapped over her hair, and a bright-pink bikini under her sheer white cover-up. “I only had them pack three different freshly squeezed juices, and two flavors of cake!”
“Don’t listen to her,” Hallie interrupted, passing their mom a stack of pillows. “This is fabulous!”
“That’s because you’re not carrying it all.” Brandon staggered past them toward the beach path. Hallie let out a noise of protest.
“These blankets are pure wool cashmere. They’re heavy!” she cried, following him.
“It is OK, isn’t it?” Amber looked distressed, surveying the bags of bone china and silverware. “I know I got a little carried away with the decor, but I wanted it to be special —”
“I’m just teasing,” Grace reassured her, with a hug. “It’s perfect. Thank you!”
Grace fell back with Palmer as their motley crew headed through the lagoons to the beach. “It’s so nice out here, with the hills, and the ocean . . .” She took a deep breath. “How did you find it?”
“Jesús showed it to me last year.” Palmer grinned. “There are tons of private places to stop and —”
“Eww, enough!” Grace quickly cut her off.
Palmer gave her a withering stare. “I was going to say, share a chaste kiss.”
“Sure you were.” Grace laughed. Palmer and Jesús hooked up for a while after Harry’s party, until Palmer decided that even a casual, no-strings kind of dating was too much of a demand on her time. The star tours were still going strong, and she’d been talking about adding a handbag line to her portfolio — apparently there being piles of Italian leather goods waiting to be imported, and sold to the fashion-hungry girls of L.A. at ridiculous markups.
“So . . .” Palmer began meaningfully, when Amber and Valerie disappeared around the next bend. “Any word?”
“Nope.” Grace hugged her box of glasses to her chest and kept walking.
“Aww, I’m sorry.”
Grace shrugged. “He hasn’t contacted me since before Christmas, why should he start now?”
“Because it’s your birthday.” Palmer gave her a sympathetic look. “And if he doesn’t call, then he’s a stupid selfish asswipe who deserves that stuck-up British bitch.”
Grace cracked a smile. “You never even met Lucy.”
“And that matters?” Palmer paused to kick off her flip-flops as they rounded the last corner and emerged onto the fine golden sand of the secluded beach. “She hurt you, and you’re my friend, thus by the laws of polite society, I get to call her a bitch. But, I am sorry. It’s his loss.”
Grace shrugged. “There was never anything to lose,” she said, not able to hide the wistful note in her voice. She shook her head quickly; this wasn’t the day for pining, not with two flavors of cake and a vast array of fresh-squeezed juices to enjoy. “Come on, I need to set this box down before something breaks!”
They basked for hours in the afternoon sun: making toasts, and tossing Frisbees, and eating more cake than Grace thought possible. Her mom wandered off with her paint set to capture the “magnificence of nature, unkempt”; Amber slathered on her sunscreen; and Auggie slept blissfully under the shade of his half-read book.
Grace relaxed, her eyes closed and toes buried in the sun-warmed sand. She could hear the steady roll of the ocean, and Hallie’s cries of protest as she lost her game of boccie to Brandon; Auggie’s intermittent snores on her other side. A wash of contentment slipped over her; an even, steady calm.
This was it, she realized. Home. Her family. The world that had splintered into so many new directions had reformed into something bright and enduring. Her year of pained, fearful change was done.
She didn’t have to worry anymore.
“Grace!” A boccie ball thudded against her foot, and Grace sat up to find Hallie waving to her from the water’s edge. “Come, swim!”
“No, thanks!” Grace called back. Palmer and Brandon were already splashing in the shallows, their laughter carrying on the breeze. “You guys go ahead!”
But Hallie didn’t. Instead, she jogged over and pulled Grace to her feet. “Come on!”
“But it’s cold!” Grace protested. “And your hair —”
“You’ve got to stop this watching from the sidelines,” Hallie told her. “It’s your birthday! You’ve got to do something!”
Grace hesitated. But Hallie was right. In one swift move, Grace stripped off the sundress covering her bikini and raced toward the water, shrieking as the cold waves broke around her legs. But it was too late to back out; Grace plunged on, until her whole body was submerged.
“See!” Hallie laughed, treading water beside her in the shallows. “Isn’t it gorgeous?”
Grace grinned. It was. Behind them, the lagoons nestled beneath the hills; the whole coastline stretching in a haze of golden sand and blue, blue water. She swam lazily, flipping onto her back as Hallie let out a contented sigh.
“Every time I’m out here, I feel like . . . I don’t know, like there’s something bigger.” Hallie looked over at Grace, her expression thoughtful. “Maybe we could come out again next month. For Dad.”
“Sure. I mean, if you want. I didn’t think you’d want to do anything.” It would be the anniversary of their father’s death — a day Grace wished she didn’t have to mark, but knew she must, all the same.
“Sarabeth says I need rituals, to help the grieving process,” Hallie explained.
Sarabeth was Hallie’s new therapist. Grace still couldn’t believe her sister was going to therapy at all, let alone talking about their father, but it seemed to be helping. Her tantrums and crying jags had dwindled, and now, Grace could even have a reasoned argument over who got control of the remote without Hallie storming off and slamming doors.
“You don’t have to come,” Hallie said quickly. “I mean, if you want time to remember him alone.”
“No.” Grace gave her a small smile. “That sounds nice. We’ll do it together.”
They drifted there awhile longer, until their fingertips puckered and the cold was finally too much. Palmer met them on the shore with a hopeful look. “Want to go get gelato?”
Grace groaned. “Are you crazy? I can barely even float, I ate so much.”
Hallie brightened. “Wait, is this the place across the street?” Palmer nodded. “Oh, we have to go. This place is, like, the best in the whole world!”
“So . . . full . . .” Grace murmured.
“It melts into liquid,” Palmer protested as they arrived back at their camp. “It’s like having a drink of water.”
“See?” Hallie agreed. “Science!”
“Oh, my God!”
They all looked up at Amber’s cry. She was clutching her cell phone, eyes wide with shock. “I don’t believe it! Oh, Grace!”
“What’s happened?” Grace asked. “Is everything OK?”
“No!” Amber cried. “Missy just texted. That Lucy girl, her old nanny, she’s run off to Vegas. Eloped! With Theo!”
They all gasped.
Grace felt faint. Her legs seemed to fold under of their own accord, depositing her onto the blanket with a thump.
“That’s crazy, she must have it wrong.” Palmer quickly sat next to her, voice full of scorn. Hallie agreed, squeezing Grace’s shoulder.
Grace gulped. “She said they were in love,” she offered, feeling a terrible ache. Of course Theo hadn’t called — not when he was off getting married. Married! At nineteen! He must really be in love with her.
“Uh-huh.” Hallie pulled out her cell phone and began typing. “I don’t believe it. Even Theo isn’t stupid enough to do something like that.”
“Check his profile,” Palmer suggested.
“Already there.” Hallie clicked onscreen. “Ha! See? Status: single.” She held it up as evidence.
But Grace wasn’t going to cling to false hope. “He wouldn’t have time to change it,” she said, miserable. In an instant, all her happiness and contentment had been ripped away, and by what? Confirmation of something she’d known for months already. It was foolish. “He’s probably been too busy dealing with wedding stuff, and the honeymoon . . .”
Oh, God. Grace wasn’t even going to go there.
Hallie kept clicking. “No, don’t give me that face. You don’t get to cry until there’s absolute proof that —” She stopped, and let out a cackle of laughter. “There!” Hallie shoved her cell phone in Grace’s face. “Told you!”
Grace blinked at the screen. It was Hallie’s newsfeed, full of updates from her friends and family. “What? I don’t see it.”
“Lucy’s photostream from Vegas. She didn’t marry Theo,” Hallie declared, gleeful. “She married Rex!”
“Theo’s brother?” Palmer asked. “But I thought you said he was . . .”
“Gay! I know!” Hallie pulled Grace into a hug. “See? It’s OK! Whatever’s going on here, it has nothing to do with Theo. He’s not married, and he’s definitely not with Lucy anymore! He’s free!”
Grace caught her breath, reeling. In barely three minutes, she’d plunged from joy, to misery, and back again, and now the relief was almost too much to take — a sharp thunder of adrenaline in her veins. She clambered to her feet, unsteady.
“I have to go.” Grace took another breath, light-headed, and then said it louder. “I have to go. Now. To Stanford. Where are the keys?”
Hallie shrieked in delight. “Yes! Oh, my God, road trip!”
“I’m in!” Palmer exclaimed.
“No.” Grace scrambled for her bag, pulling her dress back on. “I have to do this on my own, I —”
“Will chicken out the minute you get past Santa Barbara,” Hallie interrupted. “Are you kidding? Of course I
’m going to come. Brandon!” she yelled. “Brandon!”
“I’m right here.” He was behind them.
“Oh, OK. Get your stuff,” Hallie ordered. “We’re taking Grace to Theo.”
Brandon raised an eyebrow.
“Please!” Hallie wheedled. “It’s true love! You can’t stand in the way!”
“It’s six hours on the freeway.”
“And you drive so masterfully.” Hallie beamed.
He sighed good-naturedly. “One of these days, I’m going to have to teach you how to drive.”
“Stop!” Grace yelled, interrupting them all. They turned. “You’ve got it wrong,” she insisted. “I just need to talk to him, that’s all. Alone.”
There was a beat.
“We can get the gelato before we go, it’s right by the gas station.” Palmer hoisted her purse.
“Great idea,” Hallie cried. “Road snacks!”
“You girls take my credit card,” Amber added, digging in her wallet. “You’ll need someplace to stay, and I’m not having you at one of those roach-motel places.”
“And no backseat driving,” Brandon warned. “My wheels, my rules.”
Hallie giggled. “Isn’t he so cute when he gets all dour and manly?”
“Come on!” Palmer called, already ahead by the path. “It’s a long way to Stanford!”
Grace sighed. She wasn’t sure whether to scream, or hug them for being such good friends. She suspected hugging would be easier.
“Fine!” Grace told them, as if she’d ever really had a choice. “But I call shotgun!”
Hallie turned out to be right. By the time they cleared Malibu city limits, Grace was already having second thoughts; as they cruised past San Luis Obispo, she was begging them to turn back; and by the time they headed up past San Jose and turned into the campus itself, Grace knew without a doubt that this was the most foolish, reckless, doomed-to-humiliation thing she’d ever done.
“Well, quite possibly, yes,” Palmer told her, in what Grace supposed was a comforting voice. “But we’re here now! Remember why you decided to come at all.”
“A brief mental break?” Grace replied, looking around at the sprawl of Spanish-style buildings, their red-tile roofs lit up under streetlights and spotlights. It was almost midnight, but the campus was still lively — students heading out to parties, or returning to their dorms. Grace swallowed. Her elation at discovering that Theo was not, in fact, joined in holy matrimony had faded a while back. About a hundred miles ago. “Guys, this is a really bad idea. . . .”
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