later.” I could see her eyes shining with excitement as she popped the last orange circus peanut in her mouth, winning the scavenger hunt. And I felt a pang in my chest. Ethan had been at her house. He left his boxers there. Maybe they had been naked together.
And she hadn’t told me.
chapter twelve
I wake up to a soft knock at my door. When Olive peeks in, she’s wearing a headband with a purple bow on top of her short hair.
“What’s the occasion?” I ask, rubbing my eyes. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but now that I’m waking up, I’m glad I did. Naps are the best.
“We’re going out to dinner,” says Olive.
“We’re wha—?” I start. But then I remember. Red James, his father. Dinner on their boat.
I cover my head with a pillow.
“Where’s James’s mom, anyway?” asks Olive. “It’s just him and his dad on the boat, right?”
“Do I look like James’s biographer?”
Olive frowns like she’s thinking hard.
“And don’t bring it up tonight, Livy,” I continue. “That’s not something you can ask about. Maybe they’re divorced or something. We have no idea.”
“I am not a social moron,” says Olive in a matter-of-fact way that makes her sound twenty years older than she is.
Then she becomes ten again. “I think James likes you,” she singsongs.
I sit up and face her. “Just because he was talking to me doesn’t mean he likes me,” I say. “He’s the kind of guy who talks to everyone. He’s maniacally happy.”
I think about his big smile then. It’s true—he’s always so upbeat.
“What are you smiling at?” asks Olive.
I straighten my mouth. “Nothing. Now get out of here so I can get dressed.”
“Wear something pretty!” says Olive as she shuts the door behind her.
Hmph .
I look at the clock and realize we’re supposed to be over there in ten minutes. No time for even a navy shower. I take off my clean-the-boat sweatshirt and jeans and put on a short-sleeved cotton sweater and slightly better dark-wash jeans. It’s not like I have actual nice clothes on the boat with me. I don’t even have any accessories; how did Olive think to pack things like headbands? I run a brush through my hair and twist it up into a loose bun, hoping that will do. I even swipe on some lip gloss—my first makeup in weeks. Then I pinch my cheeks for color and smile. I’m surprised at how easily my mouth turns up; I’ve been having to work at smiling lately. But tonight it feels almost natural.
Our family of four steps out onto the dock in the fading sunlight. Dad’s in khakis and Top-Siders. Mom’s wearing a white V-neck T-shirt and blue linen pants, Olive’s got her bow, and I’m in lip gloss. We must look like the cover of Boating Life magazine.
Earlier, I was dreading tonight, but now I feel kind of … I don’t know, hopeful? I’m determined to be normal. To stop thinking about Ethan. To see if I can get some of my old self back.
“Welcome aboard!” says Bill when we arrive at their slip. I notice that he’s changed into a button-down and practically the same khakis as my dad, and I’m glad I fixed myself up a little. Then James ducks out from under the mainsail. He’s got on a royal blue polo shirt that makes his eyes look like the ocean.
“Hey,” he says, holding out a hand to help me step aboard. I take it, but not because I need it.
“That shirt really makes your hair stand out,” I say. I don’t know why I said that. I think I want to avoid telling him his eyes are, like, the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Uh, thanks.” He runs a hand over his head. “Oh, I got us something.”
He goes down below and comes up again a few seconds later carrying three root beers with straws. They’re those old-fashioned glass-bottled root beers.
Olive claps her hands together. “Those are Clem’s favorite thing!” she says.
James leans over so Olive can take her drink, then he hands one to me.
“Cheers,” he says, and the three of us
And she hadn’t told me.
chapter twelve
I wake up to a soft knock at my door. When Olive peeks in, she’s wearing a headband with a purple bow on top of her short hair.
“What’s the occasion?” I ask, rubbing my eyes. I didn’t mean to fall asleep, but now that I’m waking up, I’m glad I did. Naps are the best.
“We’re going out to dinner,” says Olive.
“We’re wha—?” I start. But then I remember. Red James, his father. Dinner on their boat.
I cover my head with a pillow.
“Where’s James’s mom, anyway?” asks Olive. “It’s just him and his dad on the boat, right?”
“Do I look like James’s biographer?”
Olive frowns like she’s thinking hard.
“And don’t bring it up tonight, Livy,” I continue. “That’s not something you can ask about. Maybe they’re divorced or something. We have no idea.”
“I am not a social moron,” says Olive in a matter-of-fact way that makes her sound twenty years older than she is.
Then she becomes ten again. “I think James likes you,” she singsongs.
I sit up and face her. “Just because he was talking to me doesn’t mean he likes me,” I say. “He’s the kind of guy who talks to everyone. He’s maniacally happy.”
I think about his big smile then. It’s true—he’s always so upbeat.
“What are you smiling at?” asks Olive.
I straighten my mouth. “Nothing. Now get out of here so I can get dressed.”
“Wear something pretty!” says Olive as she shuts the door behind her.
Hmph .
I look at the clock and realize we’re supposed to be over there in ten minutes. No time for even a navy shower. I take off my clean-the-boat sweatshirt and jeans and put on a short-sleeved cotton sweater and slightly better dark-wash jeans. It’s not like I have actual nice clothes on the boat with me. I don’t even have any accessories; how did Olive think to pack things like headbands? I run a brush through my hair and twist it up into a loose bun, hoping that will do. I even swipe on some lip gloss—my first makeup in weeks. Then I pinch my cheeks for color and smile. I’m surprised at how easily my mouth turns up; I’ve been having to work at smiling lately. But tonight it feels almost natural.
Our family of four steps out onto the dock in the fading sunlight. Dad’s in khakis and Top-Siders. Mom’s wearing a white V-neck T-shirt and blue linen pants, Olive’s got her bow, and I’m in lip gloss. We must look like the cover of Boating Life magazine.
Earlier, I was dreading tonight, but now I feel kind of … I don’t know, hopeful? I’m determined to be normal. To stop thinking about Ethan. To see if I can get some of my old self back.
“Welcome aboard!” says Bill when we arrive at their slip. I notice that he’s changed into a button-down and practically the same khakis as my dad, and I’m glad I fixed myself up a little. Then James ducks out from under the mainsail. He’s got on a royal blue polo shirt that makes his eyes look like the ocean.
“Hey,” he says, holding out a hand to help me step aboard. I take it, but not because I need it.
“That shirt really makes your hair stand out,” I say. I don’t know why I said that. I think I want to avoid telling him his eyes are, like, the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.
“Uh, thanks.” He runs a hand over his head. “Oh, I got us something.”
He goes down below and comes up again a few seconds later carrying three root beers with straws. They’re those old-fashioned glass-bottled root beers.
Olive claps her hands together. “Those are Clem’s favorite thing!” she says.
James leans over so Olive can take her drink, then he hands one to me.
“Cheers,” he says, and the three of us
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