by Lillie Vale
Her eyes were on me.
I swallowed. “Yeah. I’ll just wrap the cake up for you.” I grabbed a to-go box and slid the cake in, careful with the caramel coconut frosting. While my eyes were focused on the packaging, she stepped away from the counter.
“Hey,” said Elodie.
I jerked my head up.
She’d headed to Levi’s table. With a hand perched on her hip, she smiled at him. “I’ve seen you at the art center. You’re Penny’s mentor, right?”
Levi closed his sketchbook. “Hey,” he said, voice cautious with surprise. His eyes slid to me for a brief second before flickering back to Elodie. “Yeah, I’m with the art center’s summer residency program. You are, too?”
She nodded.
He held out a hand. “I’m Levi Keller.”
I could see the recognition flutter over her face. My insides squirmed.
“Wait.” El drew the word out like taffy. “Not … the Levi Keller? From Instagram?”
“Um, yeah. How do you—”
“I love your Instagram! I’ve been a fan of yours since forever. Even before you got big,” Elodie enthused at once, voice going high and squeaky with excitement.
I knew how much being one of the early fans mattered to her. She always looked down her nose a bit at people who became fans only after someone got popular.
She swung her face back to me. I could see her accusation plainly—why didn’t you tell me my idol was living in Oar’s Rest?
Yeah, well. There were a lot of things she didn’t exactly keep me informed about, too. I pushed her cake to the customer’s side of the counter and bit the inside of my cheek. She had her cake, now she could leave. “Cake’s ready!” I called out.
Elodie waved her hand in a yeah, yeah motion. “So what are you working on right now?” she asked, nodding toward Levi’s sketchbook.
“Nothing ready to share,” he said with an awkward smile, getting up. “I’m kind of looking at this residency as a way of resetting my creativity. Getting back to why I started doing this in the first place.”
“Oh.”
I smiled to myself, pleased to see her excitement deflate. If I was being totally honest, I was glad he hadn’t shown her.
Not skipping a beat, Elodie followed him up to the counter. “I think that’s a really good idea. Refilling your creative well.” She smiled and pushed her hair over her shoulder. “I’m renting studio time this week at the center. I’d love to maybe collab on something with you,” she said. She pulled her wallet from the back pocket of her shorts and peeled a bill out.
While I gave her the change, Levi caught my eye and gave me a crooked smile.
“I’m Elodie, by the way,” she continued, undeterred. “I’m back from CalArts for the summer.” She moved out of the way so he could pay his bill.
“CalArts, huh?” Levi glanced at her sideways. “I’ve heard that’s a good school.”
Elodie’s smile turned even brighter. “It is! What about you—are you in art school? Or, like, what else are you up to?”
“I’m still figuring it out,” said Levi, taking his change.
I was hyperaware of Levi’s warmth and the way the tips of our fingers grazed as I pulled my hand away.
“You could take your pick of any school you wanted,” said Elodie.
“Yeah, maybe.” He fidgeted with the coins in his hand. He caught my eye and I knew he was remembering the same night on the beach that I was.
Elodie didn’t take the hint. “Any thoughts yet about where you might want to apply?”
“It might be nice to do something other than art,” he said.
I sent him an encouraging smile.
“Oh,” said Elodie, tilting her head to the side. I could read the doubt on her face. “But why would you want to? You’ve already made it on the art scene. Why would you major in anything else?”
“You sound like my parents,” said Levi. His smile dimmed. “They’re not crazy about me pursuing other options.”
El laughed, a soft, uncomfortable thing. I knew her enough to tell she was embarrassed. “Opposite of my parents, then. They like my art, but only as a hobby. They don’t think I’ll be able to support myself or do anything in the real world with it.”
There was an awkward pause.
“I should, uh…” Elodie tilted her head toward the door.
“See ya,” I said.
Levi hung back, and just as I was about to ask him if he wanted to grab dinner, Elodie whirled around. All her embarrassment was gone. “Hey, I was just heading to the Dairy Bar,” she said. “Have you been there yet? They have amazing ice cream. Wanna come? My treat.”
Before he could say anything, she took hold of his arm. “Seriously, it’s the best.” With a tug, she’d already started shepherding him toward the door.
Look back, look back, I chanted in my mind. I didn’t know what I thought it would prove, but I wanted to count on Levi. My perfect summer wasn’t exclusive to my friends. It could still be a perfect summer with Levi in the picture.
She kept up a stream of conversation, but he twisted around and shot me an apologetic smile.
It was cold comfort.
* * *
At the end of the day, after the last customers had shuffled out, we got to work tidying up. Soon, Busy’s was spotless, everything ready for the next morning.
“Wanna grab some dinner from Lorcan’s?” I wrung out the last wet rag in the sink before slapping it into the washing basket. “Elodie dragged Levi off, and kinda took my dinner plans with her.”
Lucy gave me a sympathetic look. “Mom is expecting me for dinner. Meatloaf night.” Her lips turned glum, curved to the floor.
I laughed. I knew what that meant. Lots and lots of ketchup. Lucy’s aversion to ketchup-smothered meatloaf was legendary, and everyone except her mother knew about it. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. It’s just so weird she keeps forgetting you hate it.”
Lucy made an unhappy face. “She claims it’s out of habit. Apparently three generations of Bishop women have been ketchup lovers. It’s in our blood, she says, which is a whole new level of gross I don’t want to think about.”
We said our goodbyes, exchanged hugs, and went our separate ways. Lucy, owning a car, lugged the leftover confectionary delights in her trunk. On her way home, she’d drop them off at the soup kitchen or the food pantry, whoever’s turn it was this week.
My bike ride took me up the bluffs. My thighs burned pleasantly from the strain of my rapid pumping and the wind blew through my hair, cooling my sweaty scalp. The waves surged below me and the entire town was suffused in an amber glow. In the flattering evening light, even my own skin looked bathed in bronze.
The lighthouse was getting closer and closer. From a distant, toy-size structure, it now stood tall and proud, reaching toward the heavens. I breathed it all in, feeling sea air enter my lungs and puff me with renewed life. It almost put Elodie and Levi out of my mind.
“Babe!”
Shit.
My joy at coming home dissipated like a wisp of candle smoke after the flame had been blown out. I braked, twisting my hips to stare. “Chad?” I hadn’t expected to see him anytime soon.
Chad approached, his stocky frame somehow appearing even more larger-than-life. His bike lay discarded at his feet, tossed down instead of leaning against the kickstand.
“Hi,” he said, voice breathless. Before I could formulate a thought and get my mouth to follow through, Chad was embracing me. His bear hugs used to feel safe, like they were holding me close, but now they felt claustrophobic. It felt like his arms were a vise around me, much like the way a snake strangled its prey before swallowing it whole.
“How the hell are you?” he asked, releasing me at last. “I’m so sorry. After what happened … I didn’t think you’d want to see me. I had no idea what to say.”
“Why are you here now?” I folded my arms over my chest and stared at him.
I should have been overjoyed to see him, bu
t all I could think about was Penny’s soft, dreamy eyes and Chad’s tanned, freckled face. Back together again. The fact that the two of them fit together so much better when I wasn’t there.
I closed my eyes against the image—and accompanying nausea—and took a step backward.
Chad’s face twisted into something wounded and grotesque. “Babe…”
I had the sudden, wild thought of getting back on my bike—of never having stopped for Chad in the first place—and spinning away too fast to care about anyone.
“Uh, earlier.” He rubbed his nose, not looking at me. “Don’t think I haven’t been trying to talk Penny ’round. Because I have. She’s just … being stubborn. I know she misses you.” Then, in those familiar, fateful words that shattered me, “I miss the three of us, too.”
Me, Penny, Chad. The three of us.
My heart squeezed, sharp and tart and bitter.
He waved a hand at the lighthouse. “Can we go inside?” he asked. His eyes roved with a beady scan I could only describe as rodent fear.
A vise clamped around my chest. Understanding flushed through me, hot and sharp. He was afraid of being seen with me.
“Seriously, Chad?” I scoffed.
I didn’t buy the guile in his voice as he said, “What?”
“You … Did you come up here only because you won’t run into anyone from town?” I dropped my voice to a scathing note. “Like Penny?”
Chad’s cheeks reddened into splotchy patches. “Wha—no, what?”
“Oh my God.”
“What? Are you … are you being serious right now? Of course that’s not why—Jesus, Babe!” he said.
“Well, what am I supposed to think? You’ve been avoiding me! The last thing I have from you is that stupid text!” I scowled. “You said it’d be better to lie low until she cools down. That it’d be better if I didn’t show my face, if we weren’t seen together. Do you have any idea how that made me feel?”
“I … I thought it was the right thing to do.”
“No. Hiding wasn’t the right choice. It was the easy choice.”
“You think anything about this has been easy?”
“Yeah, because you’ve been the one iced out, right? Wait, that was me.” I shook my head. “Nice try.”
“You are so mistaken if you think you’re the only one who has to earn her forgiveness,” he said in a low voice.
“Yeah?” I rolled my eyes. “What was your crime? Because clearly I’m the shitty best friend who kissed her boyfriend. You? She took you back. She could have ended things—again—but she didn’t.”
The silence felt loud as my words bobbed to the surface like jagged bits of driftwood. Oh, but there was so much more below. There was a whole shipwreck of our friendship.
“Babe…”
I hated the plea in his voice. I couldn’t deal with it.
“I’m sorry. I know it was my fault. Maybe I shouldn’t have told her that we kissed, but I didn’t feel right in hiding it.” His cheeks flamed again, even more vivid and angry than they were before.
“That wasn’t your mistake.” My chest heaved. “Why did you do it, Chad?”
“I don’t understand,” Chad said, the words as careful as if they were walking over broken glass.
I stared at him, committing his face to memory. There was something comforting in his face, something that still made me feel safe despite it all. Despite everything. “Why did you kiss me?” I whispered. “Did you kiss me for me, or because I reminded you of her?”
The silence lingered too long for it to mean anything other than agreement. I didn’t know to which part of my question, but it didn’t matter anymore. Maybe he didn’t know the answer any more than I did. I felt like the mythical Odysseus, so far from home and his loved ones, about a million obstacles in front of him.
The memories of our good times came in an onslaught, too fast and too bittersweet to fight them off. I felt like someone was taking my ribs and tying them into sailing knots. And then, just as quickly, I saw the twinkling stars and whispered conversations and booze-free recklessness drift away, a curl of smoke on the stub of a burned-out candle.
That was the thing about the good old days, I thought. No one told you at the time that they were the good old days.
“I don’t want to fight,” said Chad. “If you don’t want me to come in…”
“Then you’ll do what you do best and take off?” I asked.
Chad still looked like he didn’t understand what was happening. “That’s not what I’m going to do,” he said finally. “I hate that everything is so messy, Babe. I swear, if I could go back and—but I can’t. I wish I could, but it’s just easier to do things Penny’s way for now. She won’t stay mad forever.”
“Won’t she?” She still hated the boys who had made fun of her for being different when we were kids.
Chad must have been remembering her tendency to hold on to grudges between tight fists, too. He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. The silence was deafening. He shifted on his feet, raised one shoulder in a hopeful shrug. “Can I get another hug?” he asked, not even realizing that my feet were dragging and my heart was sinking.
I wanted the hug more than I wanted to deny him. “Sure.” I put my arms around him and wondered how he became hers and I was the one in the middle of the ocean, alone against the waves. I was a ship in distress, desperate for a guiding light, but all I had was the soft pressure of Chad’s arms around my back.
“I’m really sorry,” he whispered into my ear.
Distracted by a lone figure coming up the hill, I didn’t answer Chad. The figure came closer and closer, golden with the sun, and as every second in Chad’s embrace seemed to drag on, Levi sharpened in visibility.
He froze, expression still too far away for me to see, and I wanted to shout out to him, Come up! Come up!
His easel was still here, so I knew he’d come to continue painting. I kept waiting for him to approach, but he didn’t make a move. I raised the arm that was around Chad and waved.
Levi waved back.
I wiggled in Chad’s arms until he let me go. “I guess I’ll see you around, then,” I said, dragging my eyes away from Levi. I had to get rid of Chad—quickly.
While Chad gripped the handlebars to pull the bike up, I scanned the hill for Levi.
What? My lips parted in surprise. He was leaving. He’d turned around and was heading back to town, now too far away for me to call back unless I screeched. And God, did I feel like screeching just then.
“See ya, B.” Chad waved over his shoulder.
I watched him go, wheeling his bike away, with tears of frustration pricking my eyes. Once again, it looked like we were both trying to score an A on Penny’s test. I waited until he was safely out of sight before retreating inside, blinking back my tears.
When I heard the knock on the door a few minutes later, my heart sped up. I doubted it would be Chad again … but what if it was Levi? Maybe Chad biked past him on the way down, and Levi doubled back. Prickles ran into my hairline, over my arms, down my legs. I knew, without even opening the door, that it would be Levi on the other side.
ten
It wasn’t.
My face must have given me away.
“Expecting someone else?” asked Elodie.
I couldn’t tell if she’d seen Levi. I settled for a nonchalant shrug, leaning against the doorframe. I couldn’t trust my voice to speak. With how screwy my life was at the moment, maybe I should have anticipated yet another curveball. Murphy’s Law. But with everything else going on, Elodie’s reappearance had taken a back seat. She was the last person I would have expected to be here, but actually, now that I thought about it, it was weird that she hadn’t come earlier.
The lighthouse had always been our place. The place where she could be herself, and we could be together, and no one had to know. It hadn’t been enough, even when I tried to tell myself that it was. Seeing her back here was disconcerting, especially when I wished
there was someone else in her place.
The silence lingered until it became almost oppressive. Elodie’s eyes flicked beyond me, into the lighthouse, and I knew she was wondering why I wasn’t inviting her in. Part of me wanted to pretend that nothing had happened, that she was just here for a visit. But I could tell from the determined set of her mouth that this wasn’t going to be a casual meeting between two people who had once known each other.
“I was thinking about you today,” said Elodie. She dug the scuffed toes of her sneakers into the grass. “A lot of days, actually. Most of them.”
I waited for her to continue.
She exhaled. “Can I come in?”
“I don’t—”
“Please.”
The honesty in her voice whittled away at my reservations. I took a step back, away from the doorway, letting Elodie know it was okay to come in.
After only a brief hesitation on the threshold, she did. She smelled like cotton candy body spray and fresh-cut grass.
The rooms inside the lighthouse were circular, small. The ground floor kitchen was narrow and the stovetop sticky with the remnants of week-old oil spatter. Above the sink I had a plate rack stacked with colorful dishes. The rest of the wall had open cabinets with bowls, glasses, coffee mugs, and a gargantuan spice rack. It was a present from Penny that she’d picked up at an artisan gift shop two years ago because the crushed oregano, basil, and sage leaves reminded her of weed.
Elodie moved toward the kitchen table and sat down, hands clasped primly in front of her. The table was just big enough for two, and even though I had the space for something a little bigger, the table served as the perfect nail-polish station, laptop dock, and grub hub. Each fleck of paint told a story. Some splotches were canary yellow: the day I’d gotten my first paycheck, Penny and I drunkenly painted our nails in celebration. A swipe of peach was where Chad had insisted on painting my nails when we were both high out of our minds and it took three swipes before he realized he was painting the table instead.
The last splotch was my favorite, and even reliving the memory now brought a smile to my face. A flamingo pink, one of El’s polish colors. It had been an accident—she was distracted by me singing along, badly, to her then-favorite boy band. That was when she’d first started to fall for me, she told me later. When I was comfortable enough to be a complete idiot around her.
