“We’ll catch up lat—” Gus starts.
Only to be interrupted by Cammie’s, “I’d love some coffee.”
“It’s not ready yet,” Sawyer says.
“We can wait,” Cammie says, propping a hip against the counter.
Behind her, Gus sighs.
“You can finish making it, then,” Sawyer tells her, walking over to me and taking over the eggs. “I’ll bring them over when they’re ready,” he adds quietly.
“Thanks,” I reply, heading for the kitchen table and taking a seat.
“So, how’ve you been, Wren?” Gus asks, joining me.
“Good, thanks. You?”
“Great. Only a few weeks left of high school. And then all summer at the marina. When do you graduate?”
“Next weekend. You?”
“Two weeks.”
I nod. “Nice.”
I don’t know Gus very well. It’s been almost a year since we talked at Wade’s party, and that was mostly me fishing for information about Sawyer. He’s Sawyer’s best friend, and I want him to like me for that reason alone. But I’m unusually shy. Entirely out of my element.
“Here you go.” Sawyer sets a steaming plate of eggs down in front of me, then takes the seat next to me.
His knee bumps my thigh, and his arm brushes mine, and I forget for a few seconds that we’re not alone.
Cammie loudly setting a pot of coffee and some mugs on the table is an unwelcome reminder.
“So,” she says, pouring herself a cup and then taking the lastremaining seat, “I had no idea outsiders remembered this place existed before Memorial Day.”
Gus sighs.
I reach for the pot, pouring myself a cup too. I’ve never drunk coffee black before, but I’m not about to ask for vanilla creamer.
“Your hair looks nice, Cammie. I’ve been thinking about cutting mine shorter for summer.” I stab some eggs, taking a big bite.
Cammie stares at me. Unsure if I’m messing with her, I guess. “Thanks,” she finally mutters, leaning back in her chair.
Gus jumps in. “We were thinking Hither Hills today.”
Beside me, Sawyer perks up. “Yeah?”
Gus nods. “Guys said they were all in for hiking last night, but no one was answering phones yet. You were the first stop, and then we were planning to pick up everyone else. Cammie’s got her Suburban.”
“Want to come, Wren?” Cammie asks sweetly. “It’s only eight miles.”
“Sounds fun, but shopping is my only cardio. What’s the point of exercising, really, if you don’t get cute clothes out of it?” I aim my best ditzy smile at her, then swallow a huge gulp of coffee. It tastes awful on its own.
I tried to be nice. This is me being nice. But Cammiereallydoes not like me, and I don’t think anything I say is going to shift her opinion of me at this point.
“That’s one way to look at it,” Cammie comments.
I finish my breakfast in silence while Gus and Sawyer talk about a dock project at the marina. I didn’t realize they’d already started prep for the summer, but I suppose it makes sense. Summer isn’t that far away, which means I need to commit to a plan. Either stay here with my parents or make other arrangements. Following my catastrophic last visit, I couldn’t imagine spending any more time here than absolutelynecessary. Now … after last night … I’m conflicted. I could have Apollo, my mare, trailered to a barn here. Play tennis at the club. Maybe even get a summer job. I have limited access to my trust fund now that I’m eighteen, but earning my own money is appealing. It would be a different, final summer before heading to college.
