“My grandmother spends a lot of time on the gardens,” I said as we walked through them. “Do you... Are you good with plants?”
“No.”
Cool. “Uh, me neither, really. Noah is, though. But I’m too much of a city person.” Which was dumb. Noah was as much a city person as I.
“Same. You live in Manhattan, right?”
“Yeah, Upper East Side.”
New York, at least, was easy to talk about. Everyone had ten favorite restaurants and cafés, hated the congestion, and loved the diversity. We talked about our neighborhoods as we reached the top of the bluff and descended the securely attached staircase to the shore below, then talked about shows we’d seen as we walked along the sand and how New York compared to other cities.
On Nantucket, you could walk forever, rounding one bend, then one more, envisioning yourself walking all eighty miles of coastline. Once, Noah and I’d decided to do it, setting out in the morning, our little-kid backpacks—mine the Little Mermaid, Noah’s Superman—filled with snacks. We were convinced we’d made it halfway around the island before we finally gave up and called Noah’s mom, but it turned out we’d gone less than two miles. She didn’t even drive to come get us. She walked out, and she made us walk back.
Now I was intimately aware that however far I walked with Isaac, we’d have to walk the same length back, and I would have to think of how to fill the silence. So when one of the lulls in our conversation stretched slightly too long, I said, “We should turn back. We’ll want enough time to eat before the party.”
“Sure,” he said amiably, and we pivoted.
The warm colors had disappeared from the sky, pinks melded into a brief purple, which quickly turned blue, then bluer still,blue everywhere. Even the clouds were blue, visible only by the grayish tones that gave shape to their snow-like texture. I shoved my hands deep in my coat’s pockets. I’d been so focused on getting Tyler to teach me to flirt—had I skipped other crucial steps? How did you connect with someone? I felt positive Isaac and I had a ton in common, so why were we only talking about surface things? “So, um—what do you do besides work? And school?”
“I guess that’s mostly what I do,” he said. “I’m into snowboarding, when I can get away for the weekend. Do you snowboard? Or ski?”
“I ski a bit,” I hedged. I’dbeenskiing. But growing up, my winter sport had always been skating—and then it had been my summer sport, too. Sometimes people assumed I was into various sports because I’d skated so much, but in reality, practice and conditioning didn’t leave me with much time for others. And god forbid I wrenched or broke anything in another activity. Theoretically, I could have taken something up after skating, but I hadn’t wanted to. “Where do you go?”
“I grew up going to Tahoe, but I’ve been doing some of the Northeast with friends this year. I’ve got a trip out to Colorado in February.”
I nodded along as he told me about the upcoming trip. “What about in the summer?” I asked when he lost steam. “What do you do then?”
“I’m big into hiking.”
I perked up. “Me too!” Though by hiking I really meant wandering the windswept mid-island moors, gazing across at Altar Rock and up to Sankaty Head.
“Yeah? Where do you go?”
“Oh. Um, here, mostly.”
“Right, yeah. You come here every summer?”
“Yeah. And every winter break. What about you, where do you like to hike?”
It was easier to listen to Isaac talk than to talk myself, maybe because I was still nervous he’d dislike whatever I said. Not that I was terribly into all his descriptions of carrying tents on his back and going on multiday hikes, but maybe I could be. Hiking was trendy, and I definitely loved nature. I just loved showering, too.
“And I like to rock climb,” Isaac said. “You ever done that?”
“Once?” I offered. We took a few more steps on the wet, hard-packed snow. “I don’t really have the arm strength, though...”
“It’s all about your legs, not your arms.” His gaze dipped, and even though I knew he couldn’t even see my legs beneath my long coat and jeans and leggings, I still blushed. “It’s fun. There’s a bunch of good places in the city for it.”
Was that... a date? I held my breath, willing him to sayWe should go. I supposed I could have said it, but that felt too terrifying. Still. Good to know what he liked. Maybe when we were back, I could suggest we go rock climbing.
Even though, honestly, I’d rather go for a walk. For some reason, I’d thought Isaac would be way more into sitting around and brunching, which was clearly not the case. Though it was good he had so many hobbies. Maybe they were fun hobbies. Maybe I could like them.
Beneath our words, the ocean roared, containing two tones: both a dull, gathering strum and a higher scrape against the dun-colored sand. The wind whisked my hair around and in front of my face, turning curls into kinks and knots. I gathered it up as best I could, like a bushel of unruly hay, stabbing it through with a pin against my nape.
Do you miss your parents?I thought about asking.Do you like working for my great-uncle?Maybe if I wanted our conversation to go any deeper, I’d need to be the one to lead it, but that felt almost insurmountable at the moment. Baby steps. I’d asked him to come on this walk, and that was enough for now.
“There’s our staircase,” I said instead, and we turned to climb back up the bluff.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
