I clear my throat. “On another note, I think something’s going on in choir practice. Something with a girl named Amelia?”
Eli sighs deeply. “Yeah. She’s told me about her. She’s…” He rubs a hand across the five o’clock shadow covering his jaw. “Fuck, I can’t say that about a little girl.”
“It’s okay, I’ve already called her a bitch in my head.”
He laughs out loud this time, bright and unfiltered. I realize now why I love hearing Zoe’s laugh so much. When they’re truly happy, it sounds the same.
“If you need me to kick some five-year-old’s ass, just know I’m ready.”
“All right, tiger.” He nudges my knee with his. The contact is so easy, so familiar. I want more of it. “How about we keep you out of trouble for now?”
In a minute, he’s turned this thing I’ve been ashamed of all my life into something we can joke about. He’s magic, truly.
“I’ll try.”
I stand to grab my stuff, then turn to him. “So, you’resureyou’re okay with me coming again tomorrow?”
He gets to his feet, too, and comes to stand so close to me, I can feel his breath on my cheeks when I tilt my head up.
“Cass,” he says, the nickname sounding like a rolling wave coming from his lips. “I can’t think of a single day when I won’t want you here.”
Heat creeps up my chest. “So that’s a yes?”
The backs of his fingers swish past mine. “Yes, that’s a yes. So long as you keep the ass-whooping to your imagination.”
“Yes, chef.”
Chapter 16
Eleven Years Ago
The boy is drained.
After working all day with his father at the food truck, he hurried over to baseball practice, which ran much longer than expected. They’re going to the state finals tomorrow, and while he’s excited—this is probably going to be his last year playing the sport—he can’t wait to get in bed and finally read the texts he missed from her.
However, he doesn’t even need to wait, because when he looks out from his bedroom’s window after getting out of the shower, he sees her, sitting on her grandmother’s back porch. He doesn’t need to see her face to know it’s her. He can tell by the way she holds her shoulders just shy of hunched, and how she’s not doing anything other than staring out into the ocean, the way no one remembers to do anymore. He used to find it strange, how she could justwatchfor hours on end without going on her phone or even reading a book. Now he knows it’s her way of quieting everything out.
The boy throws on jeans and a hoodie and joins her outside. The summer day’s warmth has dropped all of a sudden, wind blowing from the cliffs ahead. Still, the girl doesn’t move, bracing the cold headfirst.
“What are you doing out here?” the boy asks as he settles in the Adirondack chair next to hers.
She turns to him, her gaze softening the same way it did when she was nine years old on her grandmother’s front porch. Still, there’s something tight in her expression today. “Dissociating. My stomach’s been killing me.”
He doesn’t get embarrassed by this anymore. The first time the girl mentioned her periods to him, he freaked out, and she proceeded to give him a ten-minute lecture on how he shouldn’t act like menstruating was anything other than a normal bodily function. Frankly, he would’ve reacted this way if she’d talked about any of her bodily functions at thirteen, but he felt scolded enough to shut up and take it in stride the next time.
“Give me a sec.” The boy runs back to his house to grab the heating pad his mother keeps in the bathroom drawer, and a pack of sour worms he keeps in his room for the girl in case of emergency.
“You’re an angel,” she says when he returns. She places the pad on her belly and leans back with a groan, a worm already in her mouth. “I’m not sure I’ll survive community service tomorrow.”
After months of giving away her weekends, she’s almost done. Soon, what happened with that shithead Kyle Richardson will be behind her.
“I don’t know how many more hours I can tolerate getting catcalled or honked at while picking up trash.”
“Who catcalls you?” The boy doesn’t like the feeling of jealousy that claws at his chest, especially about something as dumb ascatcalling, but he can’t help it. This summer, it’s gotten even harder to control.
“Whatever assholes happen to be on the beach.” She breathes in through her nose and exhales through pursed lips. “I can’t just sulk in peace. My simple existence pisses them off.”
“I don’t think that’s it.” The boy saw how some of the guys looked at her when he forced her to come to his high school’s grad party last year. Sure, he noticed how some people acted like she had done something wrong by being there, but mostly, the guys looked at her like they would any hot girl. She just doesn’t know the difference anymore.
