Broken Hearts, Fences and Other Things to Mend (22 page)

“The thing is, Sophie,” I repeated into the phone, eyes on

Josh, “that’s what I said to myself, that, Sophie, it’s just . . . not a

good idea. You know?” I asked, and was met with confused si-

lence on the other end.

“Um. What?” Sophie said after a moment. “What are you

talking about?”

“I’ll call you back later, okay, um . . . you? And we’ll talk?”

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“Are you all right?” Sophie asked, sounding skeptical. I looked

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over at Josh and saw that he was looking at me with a slight fur-

row in his brow.

“Just fi ne! I’ll call you later, BFF!”

“But—” I heard Sophie say, but I hung up quickly before she

had the chance to ask me any more questions, or call me by my

name again.

“Hi,” I said, turning to Josh, hoping that none of that had

seemed overly suspicious to him. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” he said. He nodded at my phone. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” I said, hoping I sounded breezy and carefree, and

not like I was still trying to get my pulse to normalize. “Just my

best friend from back home. She’s dealing with some drama.”

“Ah,” he said. He nodded down at the spot on the bench next

to me. “Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all,” I said, moving over a bit— though not too far— to

make room for him.

“So,” he said, giving me a smile and taking a sip of his iced

tea, “you decided against formalwear?”

I laughed. “Well, the ball gown was at the cleaners, so I went

with this ensemble,” I said, gesturing down to my not- fancy- at-

all cutoffs and tank top.

“I think it works,” Josh said appreciatively, taking a sip of his

drink.

Before I could respond, or pro cess what he had meant by

that, my phone rang, displaying SOPHIE CURTIS— along with my

best friend’s picture— on the screen. I turned over the phone

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immediately.

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“More friend drama?” Josh asked.

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I nodded, switching the ringer to silent and stashing the

phone in my bag.

Josh shook his head. “I’m pretty much over that,” he said. “I

feel like I had more than enough of it last year.”

I nodded, and I knew he was probably talking about his ex.

Suddenly, I fl ashed back to the conversation we’d had in the car,

in the moonlight. And even though it had been less than twelve

hours, I realized that it was really good to see him again.

He glanced down at the shopping bag at my feet. “Don’t tell

me,” he said. “Doing some retail damage?” He groaned. “You and

my sister.”

“Hallie shops a lot?” I was beginning to get that, from the

fact that she’d brought two bathing suit options to the party, not

to mention how well put- together she always looked, but fi gured

that confi rmation wouldn’t hurt. And it was still just a surprise

to me, since the Hallie I’d known had been indifferent to shop-

ping and clothes in general.

“Well,” Josh said with a shrug, “mostly this last year. My mom’s

always going on about it. How it’s like she’s become a different

person.”

I could certainly identify, but I wasn’t about to tell Josh that.

“I’ll have you know,” I said, realizing as I heard the teasing sound

in my voice that I was getting dangerously close to fl irting terri-

tory, “that this is just the bathing suit Hallie lent me. I wanted to

return it.”

“Oh,” Josh said, and the glint in his eye was replaced by some-

thing more genuine. “That’s really nice of you.” He took a long

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drink of his iced tea. “I’m glad that you two get along,” he said

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after a moment, his eyes on the ground. “Hallie hasn’t had . . .

the best luck in the past when it comes to friends. I’m glad that

she’s met you. You seem like a really good person.”

“I’m trying to be,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Was

the bad luck Josh was talking about . . . me? Or had Hallie had

even
more
bad friends, after I’d left her life? The thought made

my stomach clench.

“Do you want to get something to eat to night?” Josh asked

suddenly. “With me?” he added after a moment, and I felt myself

smile involuntarily.

“Um,” I said. I realized, to my shock, that I’d wanted to say

yes. It had been my fi rst instinct. But Hallie had, only an hour

before, warned me off dating her brother. Not that I even wanted

to, or knew for sure that this was what he had meant— Josh prob-

ably just wanted to get dinner as friends. But I was in the Hamp-

tons for Hallie. To make things right with her, not to go out to

dinner with her brother. “The thing is . . .”

“Plans?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “Hanging out in a

different pool to night?”

“No,” I said, trying not to laugh. “I don’t have any plans, I

just . . .” I stopped when I realized I’d maybe insulted him, as

well as making myself sound like a loser.

“What?” Josh asked, leaning a little closer.

“Um,” I said. I tried to fi gure out how to start, and when no

good ideas came to mind, decided to just jump in. “I saw your

sister this morning. And she told me how she didn’t want you to

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get hurt again . . . and how, um, maybe we shouldn’t . . .” I felt

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my face heat up. “Not that I’m saying that you wanted to,” I said

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quickly. “Or that that’s what you meant. I mean . . . not. Totally.

Which is great. It’s just that she, you know, kind of . . .” I stopped

speaking when I realized I was no longer using any verbs or

nouns, or making any sense.

Josh frowned, which was a reasonable reaction. I barely un-

derstood what I’d just said, and I’d been the one to say it. “She

shouldn’t have said anything to you,” he said. He shook his head.

“I know she looks out for me, but . . .” His voice trailed off and he

looked away.

“Anyway,” I said, after a moment of silence had fallen be-

tween us. “It’s really hot today, huh?”

“Do you want to have dinner with me to night?” Josh asked,

looking right at me.

“But . . .” I said, having to stop myself again from saying yes,

despite everything stacked against it. “Hallie—”

“It’s just dinner,” Josh said. “Dinner between swimming

buddies.”

I felt myself smile at that, and said what I’d wanted to say,

right from the beginning. “Yes,” I said. “That sounds great.” I

hoped Hallie would understand. I’d told Josh her objections, and

it was clear we were going as friends, and nothing more. Which

was all I wanted, as well. Wasn’t it?

“Good,” Josh said with a smile. “Want to text me your address?

And I’ll pick you up at seven?” I nodded, even though I knew I

should probably suggest meeting there, as this was verging into

date territory. But maybe he was just concerned about his carbon

footprint. And plus, it was a Wednesday— not the most romantic

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night of the week. “I’ll see you to night, Sophie.”

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I nodded again and tried not to enjoy the view too much as he

stood and walked away, turning around once to give me a last

fl eeting smile.

Once he left, I sat back against the bench. It wasn’t a date.

We’d made that clear. But even so, it was my fi rst dinner alone

with a guy who wasn’t Teddy in two years, and I was suddenly

feeling really ner vous.

I pulled out my phone and saw that I had three texts from

Sophie, all seeming to grow in confusion and number of excla-

mation points. I decided I’d call her back later, from the privacy

of my room, where I wouldn’t have to worry about people hearing

me call her by her name.

I felt like the sooner I got the suit back to Hallie, the better.

Then I could try and pro cess what had just happened with Josh,

and get ready for what was clearly not a date to night. I decided I

would read Sophie’s texts later, and texted Hallie.

Me

3:05 PM

Hi! I have your suit! Happy to bring it anywhere!

I sent this, and then before I could lose my nerve, I texted

Josh Bruce’s address. I knew it was a little risky— what if he ran

into my dad and recognized him? What if Bruce called me

Gemma and outed me?— but it certainly seemed better than hav-

ing him pick me up at the Jitney station, or something. I would

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just be outside, ready and waiting for him at seven, at the end of

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the driveway if need be.

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I was walking to my car when my phone buzzed with a text

from Hallie.

Hallie Bridges

3:08 PM

Thanks so much— you’re the best! I’m babysitting

the twins at Quonset Beach right now— would

you be able to bring it over

(aka hang out with me while I babysit J)?

I smiled at that, and texted back immediately.

Me

3:09 PM

Sounds great! See you there!

I let out a sigh of relief. I would get Hallie her suit back, and she

would be none the wiser that anything had happened to it. And

despite me making her potentially lethal cupcakes, she wanted to

hang out with me. It might have been just because she was bored,

but I would take it. I took a long sip of my iced latte and headed for

the car, feeling like things were fi nally starting to work out.

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Quonset Beach in the daytime was every bit as nice as it

looked from my bedroom window. I felt embarrassed, as I

walked along the hot sand, holding my fl ip- fl ops, that I hadn’t

really ventured out here during the day yet. It was, after all, prac-

tically Bruce’s backyard. It was low tide, and the beach seemed to

stretch on forever. I took a deep breath of the salty sea air, then

got down to the business of looking for Hallie and the girls.

As I scanned the sand, I couldn’t help hoping that the girls

would be occupied with swimming, or sandcastle building, or

something equally absorbing, so that Hallie and I could actually

have a chance to really talk, just the two of us.

I’d only been walking for a few minutes when I spotted them,

Hallie sitting on the edge of a giant striped beach towel, which

was covered in canvas bags and beach paraphernalia— sunblock,

hats, beach toys. She was looking out at the water, her expression

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serious, and didn’t seem to notice me, even as I approached and

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stood near her, shifting my weight from foot to foot.

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“Hi,” I said after a moment, and Hallie turned, her serious

expression vanishing, and smiling wide at me.

“Hey!” she said. “Sit down.” She moved over and made room

for me next to her on the towel.

“Where are the girls?” I asked, and Hallie pointed ahead to

the edge of the water, where they were digging what was actually

an impressively large hole. “Wow,” I said, looking at the pile of

sand next to the hole, which was almost as tall as Olivia— or Isa-

bella. “Are they trying to make a break for it?”

“I know,” Hallie said with a laugh. “I was trying to show them

the fundamentals of sandcastle construction, but they got really

into the idea of a moat, and then just decided to keep digging. So

I removed myself from the pro cess.”

“Probably wise,” I said, and then had a memory so strong that

I had to close my eyes against it.

Hallie and I are building sandcastles on the Southampton beach.

She’s the architect, I’m the manual labor, and it’s such a beautiful

day that I’ve decided to put aside devious plans for the afternoon

and have just been hanging out with her. Hallie’s the planner— she

has a designer’s eye and precision— and after I’ve knocked over

four turrets by accident, my role is reduced to the person who to

hauls up pails of wet sand from the beach.

We sit in the sun and work all afternoon, only pausing when we

need to join forces and repel the annoying triplets who live at the

other end of the beach and are determined to wreck our hard work.