by Taylor Hale
“Thanks, Soph. I know.”
“See you at four.” Sophie kisses Amelia’s head before she goes back over to the other guy, who touches her back before they walk away and get in their car. They drive off, and West uses Amelia’s tiny arm to wave goodbye.
“Hey, kiddo,” West says.
“Hi, Daddy,” she mumbles.
“She can talk!” I say.
“Yeah, she’s three, so she talks a lot. But she’s shy around new people. This is Olive, Amelia. She’s one of my best friends from when I was as big as you. Can you say Olivia?”
Amelia smiles at me, then says something that sounds more like Wivia than Olivia. It’s adorable.
“Come on,” West says, “let’s get ice cream.”
Since West’s Corvette has only two seats, neither of which seem toddler appropriate, we walk downtown, West carrying Amelia. It’s way livelier than Caldwell, with twice as many gift shops and convenience stores. The ice cream parlor has a fluorescent pink sign, and the smell of baked waffle cones makes my mouth water. West gets rocky road, I get cookies and cream, and Amelia gets a small cup of vanilla.
“I get to do this with her once a month,” West says, pushing through the door and holding it for me. “Sometimes twice.”
I take a bite of my ice cream before the sun can melt it too much. “How come not more?”
“It’s what Sophie wants. We’re on good terms now, but it wasn’t always like this. When Amelia was first born, I wasn’t the greatest dad. Not right away. It was a lot to take in, and I was sixteen and stupid. Sophie was a lot more mature than me. But now that I’m cleaned up a bit, she’s starting to let me see her more. When Amelia’s a little bigger, and I have my own place, she’ll probably be spending every weekend with me.”
“That would be good, right?”
“Yeah.” He shifts Amelia up. “Anyway, I think it’s sandbox time, isn’t it, kid?”
She lets out a musical giggle. We go to a park with a wooden jungle gym surrounded by grass. There’s a rustic charm to it, like it’s been loved by generations. West plops Amelia in the sandbox and hands her some tools from the bag Sophie gave him. West and I sit on the edge of the square, and he stretches out his long, denim-clad legs. A warm breeze touches my skin; the air tastes different here. More like sugar, less like death. I lean on West’s shoulder, and he wraps his arm around me.
“It sucks that you’re leaving tomorrow,” he says. “When you left Caldwell last time, I wanted to say bye to you. Even got you a present.”
“What was it?”
“These little blue stones. Sea glass.”
Sea glass. The words are electric with familiarity.
“The moment I saw them,” West says, “I thought the color was just like your eyes. Fu”—he stops himself from swearing—“sappy, I know. I was a sappier kid than I wanted anyone to know about.”
West keeps talking, but his voice becomes muted. His words make me dizzy. I’m suddenly back in Cindy Huang’s upstairs hallway with Miles, accepting the three pretty stones he gave me. The sea glass that looked just like my eyes. After Miles ratted on West and me to his parents, I tucked them in the small pocket of my suitcase—banished them, because they don’t bring me comfort anymore.
“What happened to the sea glass?” I ask.
West shrugs. “Lost them, then I got cold feet and didn’t come to say bye to you because I didn’t have a good present. I felt like an idiot. Regretted it ever since.”
I don’t know how it’s possible for West and Miles to have had the exact same thought about me and gotten the same gift.
Or maybe they didn’t.
“What’s wrong?” West asks.
Confusion clutters my mind, makes me dizzy. “It’s just . . . Miles, he—”
“He what?”
I’m unable to say it, because Miles is still West’s brother.
“Nothing,” I say. “It’s just really sweet, that’s all.”
West laughs. “Would’ve been sweeter if I’d actually given them to you.”
He wraps his arm around me, so I push this whole thing away and focus on spending time with Amelia. It’s not like it’s a big deal, anyway. Just some stupid rocks.
16
After we say goodbye to Amelia, it takes an hour to get back to Caldwell Beach. We still have time to kill before I have to be at Keely’s, so we head to West’s place.
“Looks like Sandy’s out,” West says and locks the door behind us. Oscar trots over from a dog bed in the living room and nudges West’s leg until he pets him, then does the same to me.
It’s strange to walk into the living room and not see Sandy with her friends. The apartment is dead quiet. Oscar goes back to his bed and curls into a ball while West and I make eye contact that doesn’t break.
The air becomes heavy with the unspoken possibility of what we could do here. We’re completely alone. Not even Oscar will try to stop us.
I’m as overwhelmed as I am excited. West must sense it, because he wipes his palms on his jeans and says, “Do you want anything? Water?”
“Sure.”
He leads me into the kitchen. There’s barely any room between the stove and the off-white counter, and the microwave looks like it was made in the ’70s. There’s some splatter on the stove—pasta sauce, probably—and photos of Sandy and her friends are stuck to the fridge with big magnets. West is in some of them too.
Right now, Miles is probably in his huge estate with his personal chefs and more space than anyone could know what to do with. It’s hard to believe West grew up in that same house, but he was never spoiled like his siblings. Besides, I like it better here. It feels more like a home.
West hands me some tap water in a black Batman mug. My mouth is dry, so I chug it back. When I set the mug down, he’s staring at me.
“Uh . . .” He hooks his hand to the back of his neck. Face red, he steps closer to me. “Look, if you’re really leaving soon, there’s something I want you to know.”
My lower back touches the counter as he backs me into it. “What is it?”
West stares at me for a long moment before he grunts in exasperation. I gasp as he picks me up like I’m made of nothing and scoots me onto the counter so we’re at eye level. He rests his hands on my knees, and his heat radiates through me. I really should be focused, but it’s hard when his body is so close to mine.
“I lied before,” he says. “About why I didn’t follow you on Instagram.”
That gets my attention. “What do you mean?”
“Honestly? I was mad you left.” He shakes his head, black hair in pieces over his forehead. “Not mad at you, just . . . mad. At myself, mostly. I know I stopped hanging around you and Miles before you fell, but I always wanted to talk to you again. I just didn’t know how. Then when I found out you were leaving, I didn’t even have the balls to ask if you were okay, or say goodbye, or give you a stupid present. So when you followed me, I didn’t accept because seeing you online just reminded me of how much I regretted fucking things up with you. I was a stupid kid. But I cared about you far more than I let on.”
All that time I’d thought he just didn’t like me anymore, but that reality has been shattered in the best way possible. I scan his face, captivated by how beautiful he grew up to be.
“I cared about you too, West. I thought you were the coolest person in the world. I still do. More than ever. I tried to move on in New York. I tried to make friends, but it was so hard for me to fit in. And honestly, I think I wasn’t able to open myself up to anyone there because so much of me still lived here. So much of me still thought of you.”
“I never should’ve shut you out of my life.” West touches my cheek. “One of the biggest mistakes I ever made. I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
“You didn’t. Okay, you did—but it doesn’t matter now.”
“Just—let me make it up to you.” He presses himself between my legs.
“West, I—”
Before I can speak, his warm lips are on mine. I drink him in, his smell that swallows me like a stone in the sea. My breath catches as his fingers brush beneath my dress, and oh God, I’m getting dizzy.
“Is this okay?” he asks.
I nod a bunch of times because it is more than okay. West doesn’t know I’m a virgin—I have to tell him somehow, but I don’t want to ruin the moment. He picks me up and hitches my legs to his hips. He kisses me and carries me down the hall. Then we’re in his room, and the door shuts behind us, and I’m in his bed. He slowly climbs on top of me, eyes locked on mine the whole time. My tense muscles relax, and everything in me becomes light and free as my head meets his pillow. He positions himself between my legs and lowers his weight onto me.
“I don’t want you to go,” he whispers against my lips. “This was never just for the summer for me.”
I’m tingling from the hollow of my thighs all the way to my cheeks, and it’s enough to make me float away. “I don’t want to go either. You were my first crush.” I stare at his mouth. “And my first kiss.”
He kisses me and says, “I can be your first everything, if you want me to be.”
Oh man . . . I’m done. I don’t want to think about how I’ll feel when I’m gone, or what will happen between us. I just want to be close to him. “I do want that.”
He smiles wide, then his lips are on mine again. He easily slides off my dress, but I don’t feel exposed. The way he stares at me makes me feel like I’m the only thing in the world. Nothing has ever made me feel so special. So seen.
“You sure about this?” he asks, his breaths labored as he reaches around the side of his bed. I hear cardboard opening, plastic crumpling, and everything gets real. I nod.
When our bodies connect, I don’t think about who I am outside of this room. Who I was before, or who I’ll be tomorrow. The pain is searing at first, but then the feeling becomes hot water rushing through me, a tide that swells over my head—but this time, it doesn’t drown me.
When West pulls into the driveway of Keely’s house, the sunset casts golden hues over the black roof. I’m not about to forget the feeling of being with him, and I can tell by the way he looks at me that he’s thinking the same thing.
“I’m going to miss you,” I say. “I hope that isn’t weird.”
He laughs. “Of course it isn’t weird. I’m going to miss you too. You blew my mind.”
“Your mind, huh?”
West’s face goes red, and we both laugh. “Think you can try to get your parents to let you stay for a few more days? Get a motel or something?”
“I doubt they’d go for that, but maybe.”
“New York’s not that far, but I might only be able to visit you once in a while.”
“You would visit me?”
The mood shifts so fast it shocks me. West straightens his back in the seat. I blink at him until it hits me: he’s being serious. Long distance didn’t even cross my mind—in fact, I didn’t think much of anything that would happen later.
“I mean . . .” He clears his throat. “Yeah. If you wanted to like, stay together.”
“You would really do that?”
“Would you?”
I nod, and he cracks a smile.
“Thank God. I was about to feel like a huge idiot.” He pauses. “It just sucks. I never got to take you on a real date.”
“There’s always next time?”
“Definitely next time. I promise.”
“I’ll hold you to that. But I better go in. I’ll text you. Maybe we can meet up again tomorrow and you can say hi to my parents?” I laugh awkwardly. “They’re going to be a little surprised I’m dating you, just as a warning.”
“Yeah? That’s okay. I’d like to see them.”
We quickly kiss, and it feels like only the beginning. I get out of the car and watch West drive off, waving the whole time. This is how things are supposed to feel. Happy and fun and elevated and nostalgic. This is what I wanted from this summer, even if I didn’t fully realize it until now.
I go to the front door, but as soon as my hand touches the handle, voices sound from the other side. I carefully open the door, and everything—everyone—goes quiet.
Sprawled over the living room couches are Keely, Shawn, Dean, Faye—and Miles.
“There she is,” Dean says.
Keely hops to her feet. “Liv! Hey . . .”
Having them all here, especially after what happened last night, feels like an attack. “What are you guys doing here?” Suspicion leaks from my tone.
“They sort of just showed up,” Keely says.
“I didn’t realize you guys were talking again.” My eyes are on Shawn now, because I’m thinking about what he said yesterday, which was definitely “Fuck Keely.”
“I texted her last night to apologize,” Shawn says. “Then Keely said you were leaving in a day or two, so we stopped by.”
“But it sounds like you don’t want us here,” Faye says, but as always, there’s a hint of aggression in her voice. “We haven’t seen you in five years and now you’re about to leave again. We’re saying goodbye, Liv.”
“It’s fine, I guess. But I thought you’d be mad about last night.”
Dean shrugs, his arm slung over Faye’s shoulder. “Water under the bridge.”
Roger comes into the room and puts his hands on his hips. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him without his uniform; he wears a plaid shirt tucked into a pair of dad jeans. “Oh, Olivia, you’re home,” he says. “Lemon asked if your friends can stay for a bit to say goodbye.”
My friends? I’m not even sure they’re Keely’s friends, especially after what she said about them hating on her for being a cop’s daughter.
“Thank you, Roger,” I peep.
“I’ll be in the basement with your mother, Keely. But if I catch a drop of alcohol in this house, don’t think I won’t arrest any of you.”
Once Roger is gone, everyone’s focus is on me. I tug on my elastic and force a small smile. Maybe giving them a chance isn’t such a bad idea. If tonight really is my last night in Caldwell, I may never see these people again. But Miles still intimidates me. Our memories together are sour now, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to see him before I left. Now that choice has been ripped away.
Plus, I just lost my virginity to his brother. This is so weird.
Sitting on the armchair, I bump my knees together. Miles pulls up a stool and leans on it while the others squeeze on the couch.
“So,” Faye says, “heard you were out with West today.”
Everyone looks at me.
“Yeah, we went for a drive,” I say.
“Are you guys are like, dating?” Dean asks.
I nod. Shawn laughs and smacks Miles in the arm. “Tough loss, buddy.”
Miles’s nostrils flare. “I’m going to the bathroom.” He storms out. Shawn and Dean laugh. Faye texts while Keely exchanges an apologetic look with me, so I take out my phone and message her.
Why did you let them in? It’s so awkward with Miles :(
I’m sorry! They honestly just showed up, and he said he’d be cool!
Do you really forgive Shawn for being so shitty with you?
Idk. I’m def not dating him, but I felt weird turning them away...
Just don’t let him hurt you again.
When Miles returns, I tuck my phone under my leg so he won’t think I’m texting West about him. Keely turns on the TV, and some jazzy pop song floods the room.
Everyone starts talking and laughing, but I’m insulated from it all, trapped inside a fish tank. The grandfather clock ticks and I count the songs that play. After seven, Shawn, Miles, Keely, and Faye are caught up in a conversation a
bout Carter Bonnet, who apparently spends a lot of time with Cindy Huang. It’s rumored they both have syphilis, but unclear who gave who what, and I can’t help but think of the conversation as dumb and untrue.
Someone touches my shoulder, and I jump. Miles stands over me with a stiff smile. I’d been so zoned out I didn’t even notice him.
“Oh . . . Miles. You scared me.”
“Can we talk? Come into the kitchen with me, away from the others.”
It’s confining, but everyone else’s voices remind me I’m safe, so I follow him to the kitchen. Miles leans against the wooden countertop and tucks his hands in the pockets of his shorts. The silence is uncomfortable, so I fill a cup of water and sip from it. He’s still being quiet and it makes my hair stand on end.
“What did you want to talk about, Miles?” I take another sip of the lukewarm water.
Miles hooks his hand to the back of his neck, where the skin is lobster red. “You’re leaving tomorrow. It doesn’t feel right to see you off on bad terms.”
“Miles, why did you bring your parents to the cabin that day?”
“I wanted to protect you, Liv. From West.”
“Why would I need to be protected from West?”
“You don’t know him as well as you think you do.”
I set down my cup. “I do know him. He’s a good guy, and he’s a good dad to his kid. I like the way he treats me, and I like the way he makes me feel. Why would you want to ruin that?”
“That’s what all the girls say.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means he has a track record, Liv.”
“Maybe I’m not just some girl to him. Maybe to him, I’m actually someone special. Or did you not even consider that?”
Miles sighs. “Whatever, you’re not going to believe me. Just forget it. Can we stop fighting now?”
We fall quiet. Keely’s laughter sounds over the music. Downstairs, Roger and Sun’s TV program emits muffled voices.
Maybe it is pointless to hold onto these negative feelings about Miles. He did try to help find Keely when she disappeared, and he had a right to be mad at me last night for telling West about a situation with Faye I knew nothing about. Dr. Levy would probably say I don’t have to like Miles, but it’d be better for me to leave on good terms with him. That would be the healthy thing to do.