“It’s been a long time,” she says.
“I guess,” I reply, shrugging like a small but significant piece of my history didn’t just fall from the sky—and into a swimming pool.
She looks a lot like I remember, except her curls used to be like corn silk, and now they’re mahogany dark. “I’ve been wondering if you still lived at the Towers.”
She blinks. “Have you?”
“Well…yeah.” I scuff the sole of my shoe against the deck, the back of my neck going hot. That was a weird thing to admit.
“I still live here,” she confirms. “I’ll likely die here.”
“It’s crazy to run into you again.” It’s another asinine statement,but damn if she doesn’t have me flustered.
She looks up at the stars, and I wonder if she’s thinking about the night we met.
I sure as shit am.
She lowers her eyes to meet mine, narrowing them. “You disappeared. I thought I’d see you the next day. Or the following week. Or at least beforenow.”
“I wish I’d said something—goodbye, for starters.” I point to the east tower. “My dad lives up there. The last time you and I saw each other, I’d come to hang out with him for a week. I left the morning after we met. I should’ve told you, but it all seemed kind of…”
“Surreal?” she supplies.
I smile. “Yeah.”
“And now you’re here for another visit?”
“First in three years. I got into town a few hours ago.”
“Well. Welcome back.”
“Thanks,” I say. And then, unsure what’s supposed to come next, I let my gaze drop. Her cutoffs are dripping water down her legs. She’s still wearing the blue T-shirt—the one she had on earlier when I spotted her in the parking lot. SUGAR BAY MARINE CONSERVATION PARK, it says. Tiny illustrated turtles dot thei’s.Her nails are blue green, similar to the color of the water in the illuminated pool.
She says, “I live in the west tower. But I hang out down here a lot.”
She heads for a nearby lounge chair, then sinks onto it, gesturing to the one beside it. I sit, a little woozy suddenly, becauseholy shit, I’ve just plugged back into a conversation that disconnected three years ago.
The pool area’s as nice as I remember—swept pavement, neat lines of chairs, lampposts that emit a soft glow—and so quiet I hear waves crashing down on the beach. The stars over the ocean are bright and innumerable. I get why she likes it here.
Piper.
I can’t believe I’m sitting next to her after all this time.
Life is fucking weird.
A breeze rustles the palms. The air’s warm, but she’s soaking wet. “Are you cold?”
“Are you kidding?” she says. “The water felt good.”
“Oh, so the swan dive was intentional?”
“Clearly.”
“It’s strange, though, right? That it’s so warm in the middle of the night?”
“Not strange for Florida. Where do you live?”
“Spokane.”
