Page 29 of Never Less
“We can try again later in the week.” I pull her toward the shore, only letting go once we reach a shallow point.
“Yeah, we could try that.” Liliana gives the water one last longing glance before turning toward the beach. She still seems bummed, but then her eyes widen, and she lets out a little gasp. “Ohhh! Can we look for beach glass?”
“We can do whatever you want, little star. Don’t know how much we’ll find, though. I’ve never really looked.”
She crouches down at the water line. “I used to do it with my mom every time we went to the beach. I guess I’ve never gotten over the thrill of it, you know? I have a huge jar at home that I add to whenever I have the chance to find a new piece.”
Lowering myself down next to her, I peer at the sand. “That’s sweet.”
“I know it’s silly, especially since it just sits in a jar, but I think it’s so pret—”
My hand covers hers where she’s sifting through the sand. “I don’t think it’s silly, Liliana. Lori loves collecting beach glass, too. It’s a fun hobby.”
She doesn’t respond, her gaze fixed on where we’re touching. When I rub my thumb against the back of her hand, her lips part, and she lets out a small, regretful sigh. Her hand slips from underneath mine, and she continues digging through the sand.
“I like Lori,” she says quietly. “I… like all your friends.”
“I’m glad. They like you, too.”
For some reason, that makes her frown. She turns away from me and starts digging through the sand again. I help her look for beach glass, but all I find is plastic and some pretty seashells.
It takes a few minutes, but then Liliana gasps in triumph. She holds up a piece of scuffed green glass no larger than a penny. “Look!”
“Nice.” I peer at it, nodding as I take in the smoothed edges. Lori accidentally cut herself on a piece that was still too fresh, and I don’t want Liliana to do the same thing. “I’m sure it’ll look great in your collection back home.”
“Y-yeah.” Stooping down, Liliana rinses the piece off in the water, and then she wraps herself up in her towel.
“Do you want to head in?” I ask. “The wind is picking up.”
She doesn’t meet my eyes. “Probably a good idea. I’m getting kinda hungry, too. We should figure out lunch soon.”
“I’ve got stuff for sandwiches. Oh, and you’ve still got some of your peanut butter dip.”
She nods, silently staring at the ground while I grab my towel. While we make our way back to the house, she keeps more distance between us than normal. I want to reach out and touch her—brush my fingers down her back, hold her hand—but I don’t. And while part of me resents the space she’s putting between us, the rest of me knows it’s for the best.
. . .
At dinner, Liliana wears one of the other dresses I bought her. This one is navy blue and hugs her waist before gently flaring out at her hips. Her makeup is done impeccably, and if I’m not mistaken, she’s wearing the lipstick I snuck up to the checkout counter the other day.
Liliana is fidgety while we wait for our food. She checks her phone three times in fifteen minutes before finally turning it over so the screen is facing the table.
“The view is nice,” she says, her voice tight.
“Thought you’d like it.”
The water sparkles with sunlight, and the few sailboats out paint a picturesque scene. I’ve never been one to enjoy being on a boat—too windy, not enough shade—but I think they look nice from a distance.
“And… this place is lovely.” Liliana glances around the restaurant, nodding to the displays of local artists’ works on the walls. She twists one of her tiny rings around her finger.
“Liliana,” I say gently, and when her eyes snap to mine, I give her a sad smile. “You’re thinking of him, aren’t you?”
“I texted him after lunch, and he’s seen it but hasn’t responded. I know he’s busy, but after the way he left…” She shakes her head. “This is a new low, even for him.”
“I’m sorry. I know things are… complicated.”
“Maybe they shouldn’t be.” There’s an undercurrent of bitterness in her words, but also hope. The same thoughtfulness that was on her face earlier when we were swimming is back.
“What do you mean by that?”
