I start to respond, then remember the invitations hanging in the kitchen.
ME:Oh wait there’s another grad party tomorrow night
L:Will everyone be there
I know who he’s talking about when he sayseveryone.
ME:Yep! But maybe you can come too?
L:I’ll be there
L:See you in the morning
ME:Can’t wait
I stare at the screen a few minutes longer, but he doesn’t text again. Pulling my blanket over my head, I replay tonight over and over. I fall asleep thinking about those three kisses in the car.
I’m so exhausted. I’m so over the golf course. The only brightspot is seeing Leo, but it’s not like I can talk to him. Which makes it worse. And I’m so tired of swapping phones and dodging Mom. I should just save myself the trouble. Tell her everything. Let her come home and tell me what to do. Let her fix it.
But I’m halfway through. Two days down, two to go.
Maybe today will be like yesterday and all I’ll have to do is drive Mr. Williams around. Maybe I can put some earplugs in and ignore him completely.
Sophie is asleep next to me in the bed, so I slide out without waking her. I remember to pack a swimsuit, a cover-up, and a towel in my backpack for Megan and Lindsey’s party. I feel like I’m catching a break with the party being so close. It should be easy to pop in and out, since it falls at the same time I took my lunch break yesterday.
My phone vibrates; it’s Wes telling me he’s on his way. Sophie sits up and grabs her phone, too, and I notice he actually sent it as a group text to both of us.
She stumbles downstairs, dragging a blanket from my bed with her, and curls up on the couch while I fix a cup of coffee to go. Wes drags himself in through the back door, still in pj bottoms and a T-shirt.
“Hey,” he mumbles, half-asleep. He slides his phone across the table to me.
“Thanks, Wes,” I say. “Mine’s on the coffee table in the den. Sophie is on the couch.”
I watch him walk into the den, then curl up around Sophie on the couch. She pulls the blanket over them both and within seconds they’re asleep. Watching them sends a slight pang of jealousy through me, not only because of their relationship but also because they get to go back to sleep.
The drive out to the course feels like it takes forever and of course by the time I find a place to park, I’m fifteen minutes late. But Coach isn’t there when I get to the clubhouse, and that feels like a miracle. Lily is waiting for me, though.
“Hey!” she says when she sees me.
How is she so perky this early in the morning?
“Hey,” I answer. “Please tell me we aren’t doing range balls this morning.”
Lily frowns. “Sorry.”
Following her to the closet that houses all the balls and trays and molds, I want to cry at the thought of spending the next two hours hauling buckets of balls and making those stupid pyramids. The only good thing is that I’ve finally become a pro at it and rarely have one that doesn’t look great on the first try.
By the time we have each spot on the range ready to go, the golfers are pouring in.
My walkie-talkie crackles to life.
“Olivia,” Coach Cantu says on the other end.
“Yes?”
“Drive a cart over to the delivery entrance of the clubhouse and pick up a couple of cases of water bottles.”
“Yes, sir. On the way.”
