I pushed one socked foot into her side, silently telling her to move over in the hammock. “I’m assuming this is theoretical,” I said, lying at the opposite end to face her. “The odds of you becomingthe nicest person everseem incredibly slim.”
She shot me the finger and I laughed. I treated her the way I always had—as if she was a cute stray kitten, one I wasn’t planning to shelter but enjoyed watching from a distance.
“Anyway,” she continued, “what I’m saying is that I could be amazing and yet my entire future is dictated by one thing, and it’s a dumb thing too. I want to end up choosing the really nice, smart guy to be my husband, and you know who I’m gonna pick? I’m gonna pick some douche with a good jawline because that’s how it works.”
I twined my hands behind my head. “And do you have this douche picked out?”
I was pretty sure it was me. She’d spent years telling me we would marry, and though she’d finally stopped trying to get me to agree, I didn’t get the sense she’d changed her mind.
“It’s hard to believe that you’re the older of the two of us—you are shockingly literal. It’s all hypothetical.”
I laughed. “It doesn’t seem all that unfair to me. Or no more unfair than the way everything else gets handed out.”
“Of courseyoudon’t think it’s unfair. You already have your adult face. You already know that you’re handsome. You’ve got it made.”
“Interesting. I had no idea. Should I blow off grad school, then?”
“You probably should stick with it, just in case something happens to your face. A car accident, a bad bar fight...”
I let my eyes fall closed. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Easton. Your face seems symmetrical enough.”
“See? That’s the problem, though. The stakes are much higher for women. You know what babies prefer above and beyond a symmetrical face? A symmetrical face with oversized eyes and lips, and a small nose. So even if I wind up with those things as an adult, I could still get thrown over for someone who has better versions.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t fall in love with someone who’d dump you based solely on looks.”
“But that’s what I’m saying—I can’t control it and neither can he. The cards are stacked against us as humans, right from the start. I’ll just have to make enough money that I can surgically alter my face as much as possible.”
“That had better be a joke,” I said, nudging her thigh with my knee. “I don’t know about any of the symmetry stuff you’re saying, and I sort of doubt that it’s even true, but let me tell you one thing: a face like yours was never meant to be altered, and if you touch it, I’m gonna be really fucking pissed.”
It took me a solid three minutes to realize that I meant it. I was furious at the idea of her changing anything about herself.
She was in high school and way too young for me, but maybe she wasn’t the only one who’d been thinking we’d end up together. She just realized it first.
I pack the next morning,check on my mom, and make a quick work call—I’ve got guys I trust heading up the three jobs underway, but it’s unusual for me to just take off like this.
I guess there’s alotof unusual shit I’m doing: traveling with a woman who has despised me for years, pretending she and I are a couple, and watching her fall apart at a casual dinner with someone I assumed was her friend.
I’ve never seen Easton like that: the strained smile, shaking hands, dropping flatware.
Leaving Oak Bluff was supposed to improve her life, but what I witnessed last night sure doesn’t look like the behavior of someone who’s better off—it was the behavior of someone who’s been diminished.
There are no words for how much I fucking hate it.
I find her on the balcony, her face wistful as she takes in the view. The only times shedoesn’tlook wistful now are the ones where her jaw is locked tight, as if she’s bracing for something bad. She was radiantly happy, back in the day. Even after all these years, I just want to lock her up somewhere safe and go slay every last one of her dragons.
“You okay?” I ask.
She forces a smile. “I miss the ocean.”
“Don’t you live near an ocean?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “It’s not the same. The water there is cold as balls year-round, and getting out there from the city is barely worth the effort.”
This hadn’t occurred to me until now—that part of why she came home early was to be back at the beach. As much as I wanted her out of her dad’s house, I also just deprived her of a week of the thing she loves most.
“We have at least two more overnights on the ocean, and knowing my grandmother, we’ve got six more.”
She smiles, but there’s something dejected in the slump of her shoulders. “Yes, that’ll be fun. With your grandmother. Who hates me.”
