Chapter Text
CHARLOTTE
"So," Clara starts, propped on one elbow across from me on her beach towel. The terry cloth beneath us is already gritty with sand. "Now that you don't have Sidney, what do you plan to do with all that sexy energy?"
I should've known she'd go there. That's why I love her. Even on my sixteenth birthday, especially on my sixteenth birthday, she won't let me wallow. Still, the question lands like a slap.
I laugh because Clara always makes me laugh, even when I want to cry. "I don't have sexy energy."
"You do. Look at you." She pulls down her sunglasses and gives me a theatrical once-over. We've coated ourselves in baby oil and iodine—Clara swears it's the secret to a tan that'll last until September. I smell like a mix between a newborn baby and a medicine cabinet baking in the sun.
I roll my eyes. "Clara, look at you."
"Hey, I'm not trying to play down my own sexiness by playing up yours." She adjusts her bikini top. "I know I have no problem getting boys to look my way. But you offer something I can't seem to manage."
I sigh hard enough that a nearby seagull startles. If I wasn't enough for Sidney Parker to remember, then what's the point? He had me. I would have waited an eternity for him. But I had to go and open my stupid mouth and make threats I can't take back. I even called his house last week—my hand shaking as I dialed, my heart hammering as it rang. His dad answered and said he’d give him the message, but he never called back. That was my answer.
My stomach has been roiling ever since. Food tastes like cardboard, and what little I manage to choke down threatens to come right back up.
"I don't understand what you're trying to tell me."
"What I'm trying to tell you..." she leans in, louder than the crashing waves but quiet enough for privacy, "...is that the easiest way to get over someone is to get under someone else." Her eyebrows do a little dance.
"That's easy for you. Not for me."
The day our parents caught us, Clara and I were both banned from our boyfriends. Clara was actually caught in the act—her father walked right into the bedroom they were in. Thankfully, I wasn't quite that far gone when my dad burst through the door. But a week later? Clara started seeing Edward. She calls him her midnight lover because they meet at midnight and sneak into each other's bedrooms.
"Oh, it makes all the heartache go away once you feel that man between your legs." Clara falls onto her back, arms spread wide, staring dreamily at the clouds drifting overhead. A Frisbee sails past, missing her head by inches.
"Well, if that makes your heartache go away, I don't think you were in love in the first place."
She's quiet for a beat. "I was in love. But only with that part, I guess."
There's something hollow in her voice that makes me wonder if Clara even knows what she's saying. I thought I saw something real between her and Matthew—the way he looked at her when she wasn't watching, the way she'd unconsciously touch her necklace whenever someone mentioned his name.
"Well, you're sixteen now," she says, bouncing back to her usual brightness. "Might as well live it up. We aren't young forever. And that car your aunt is—what did you say? Loaning you?"
I can't help but giggle. Aunt Susan showed up yesterday in her powder blue '72 Volkswagen Beetle, all dramatic flair and expensive perfume. She pressed the keys into my palm like she was handing me a royal title, which is very fitting since she has a dual citizenship between America and England since her boyfriend is British.
"It's just a loan," she'd said, waving her manicured hand. "I'm paying for insurance and maintenance. You're just responsible for gas." When I asked how long I could drive it, she batted the air: "Pish-posh, I have no idea! Whenever I get the hankering for my little bug back, I'll let you know."
Then she took me out and taught me to drive a stick shift, something I'd never done before. I stalled out six times before I made it around the block. Clara's been helping me practice ever since.
"Yes, apparently it's a loan. I don't understand Aunt Susan, but she insisted. Said I didn't want to be seen in Mama's station wagon."
"Oh, that would be horrendous!" Clara teases. She's driving her mom's car, which isn't much better—a '74 Pinto with a dent in the passenger door. "But I guess my stunning beauty makes up for my car. Besides, when you aren't wealthy, it makes boys think they can impress you."
"You think?"
"Sure. Boys' egos are as big as this ocean. They don't want a girl having a nicer car than they do."
"Well, I guess I'll be off everyone's list, because I love my aunt's car."
"Charlotte, you don't have to worry about any boy being intimidated by your VW Beetle."
"Hey, now!" We both giggle.
I roll onto my stomach, letting the sun bake into my shoulders. Someone's boom box is playing Diana Ross’ Upside Down, and I'm just starting to drift off when I hear it.
"Charlotte?"
I know that voice. It's not the one I want to hear, but I know it.
I turn onto my side, squinting against the glare. The sun forms a halo around him, and for a second, I can't make out his face.
Alex Colbourne.
I sit up halfway. Clara hasn't stirred, probably passed out from her night of drinking and being with Edward until dawn.
"Hey, Alex."
"Hey." His eyes travel over me in a way that makes me want to grab my towel and wrap it around myself. "I thought that was you."
"What are you doing here?"
"Trying to enjoy the beach before it gets hotter than hell." He grins. "It's nice by the water, though."
"Yeah."
"You know I have a beach house about half a mile that way." He points down the shoreline where the houses get bigger, more spread out. "You and Clara want to take a ride?"
Something in me stirs...something reckless and raw. Maybe it's the threat I made to Sidney echoing in my head. Maybe it's wanting to feel anything other than this gnawing emptiness. But something about it feels right, or at least inevitable.
"Clara?" I nudge her arm. "Do you want to go for a ride with Alex?"
She turns her head, squinting at me through one eye. "No. I was just having a very sexy vivid dream. I want to go back to it. Come get me in a little while."
"I won't be gone long." I reach for my pink cover-up and pull it over my head. Alex offers his hand to help me up, and I take it, stepping into my matching thongs. I bought the whole outfit a few days ago in a fit of sadness. I walked into the store planning to buy one swimsuit and walked out with bags full of things I didn't need. Sidney used to buy me things before I could even voice a want. Sidney’s generous tips are still in my bank account, now a few hundred dollars less. I hope dad will let me go back to work soon. It’s too sad sitting at home.
I climb into Alex's dune buggy. It's sun-bleached and salt-crusted, clearly more beach than dune. Today's the day before Memorial Day, and my birthday, which means tomorrow is exactly one year since I met Sidney. The thought makes my chest tight. I won't mention it to Alex. It feels too intimate, too raw.
He's making small talk, waving at people I don't recognize. The wind whips my hair around my face.
"Ah, looky over there—"
Before the words fully leave his mouth, my stomach drops clear to my toes.
Sidney.
He's leaning against his car in that effortlessly cool pose of his, the one I've memorized from a hundred different angles, with Eliza Stirling facing him, standing close. Too close. She's laughing at something, her head thrown back, her hand on his arm. He's talking but not laughing, that serious expression he gets when he's trying to be funny without committing to the joke.
As we pass, his eyes find mine.
The moment stretches, lasting and painful. Our gazes lock and follow each other as the dune buggy carries me past, until I force myself to turn away. My heart is a war drum in my chest.
Something inside me is grateful, just for this moment, that I'm with Alex.
"I can't believe he's already with her. After everything we've been through,” I mutter.
Alex chuckles, and the sound grates. "What do you mean? Parker has never not been with Eliza."
My head snaps toward him. "What are you talking about? I dated him from October to just a few weeks ago."
"Yeah. And apparently you weren’t giving it up."
Heat floods my face. "That didn't matter to him."
He actually laughs this time. "To Parker? It mattered."
"I talked to him every night. I saw him most nights."
"Until when?"
"I don't know. When I worked, he'd take me home around nine, and then he'd call me around eleven."
"Yeah. Just like I thought."
Something cold crawls up my spine. "What?"
"He went straight to Eliza's after dropping you off."
"For an hour?" My voice sounds shrill even to my own ears.
"Charlotte, it doesn't take long to fuck a girl or get a blow job."
I cross my arms hard across my chest and slam back into the seat. The vinyl is hot enough to burn. "He wouldn't do that."
"Well, you can bury your head in the sand if you want. But even after homecoming, he never stopped seeing her. For sex, I mean."
"I don't believe that. We... had our moments."
He raises his eyebrows. "Sex?"
"Not exactly."
"Yeah. He was frustrated. You can't tease guys like that."
"I didn't tease him!"
"Maybe you didn't intentionally tease him, but a guy has to get his needs met. If a girl isn't going to put out, he has to find someone who will."
The words land like punches. "I don't think he would do that. He said he loved me."
He shrugs, one hand on the wheel. "I mean, maybe he did. Men love their wives and screw other women. Happens all the time."
"I don't believe you."
"You don't have to believe me."
"How do you even know this?" My voice is shaking now.
He squirms a little, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. "Eliza told me."
"Well, she's a liar. I know that for a fact."
"You think so? She knew his schedule pretty well. Some very detailed interactions, too." He glances at me. "Apparently her little Catholic school uniform was his favorite."
The image slams into me. Eliza in a plaid skirt, Sidney's hands… the hands he couldn’t keep off me.
"Stop. Don't ever talk to me about him again."
"You just have to face reality. That's all I'm trying to do. Help you see the truth."
He pulls into a driveway lined with sea grass and weathered wood fencing. The house beyond is two stories, all windows and deck space. Stunning.
"I don't want to go in. But thank you for showing me where you live."
"Oh, I don't live here. This is just a weekend place."
"Are you staying here by yourself?"
"Me and some of the football guys. They're all still drunk from last night, probably passed out inside."
He keeps talking, but I'm not really hearing him anymore. Alex's words have burrowed under my skin, replaying on loop. He went straight to Eliza's after dropping you off. When he finally turns the dune buggy around and heads back toward Clara, we pass Sidney's spot again.
Eliza is still there. Still laughing. Sidney looks up just as we drive by and nods.
I turn my head quickly, but I catch the smirk spreading across Alex's face as he waves.
"Why did you do that?"
"Just being friendly."
"Since when? You and Sidney aren't friends."
"Not really, but I'm friends with Eliza. And some of the other guys with him."
I want to ask which guys—Babington and Crowe have no more use for Alex than Sidney does. I didn't see Esther in that group, but I saw plenty of other girls. Mostly Eliza's crowd, from what I could tell. The same girls who've haunted my life since October.
The same ones who are probably laughing at me right now.