“Thank you.”
I scurry down the dim hall adorned with pictures of sturgeon fish until I come to the door of the women’s restroom. It swings inward when I lean against it and all the stalls are empty, so I stand in front of the bathroom mirror and untuck the note. A short message is scrawled across the bottom of the napkin.
Can we finally have a little fun tonight? You know where to find me.
My face flushes from how sexual that sounds, even if I know he didn’t mean it that way. There are a million and one reasons why I shouldn’t do this. A major one being that I don’t need to anger my parents more than I already have. In every past circumstance I’d be considering the consequences, but consequences be damned. I want to hang out with Reed. He’s fun and light-hearted and makes me want to do bold things.
I slip my phone out of my pocket and open our old text thread.
TEDDY: Pick me up at seven.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SUMMER, FIVE YEARS AGO
“Where’s Miles?” I ask, scanning Reed’s property for any sign of him.
Reed is stretched out on a lounger, a pair of boardshorts painted around his waist. We’ve never hung out just the two of us since I got here, and it feels weird to see him all alone. He pushes up from his spot and leans over the edge of the deck railing.
“Hey, gorgeous!” he croons.
He’s called me that constantly this summer, and it makes me squirm every single time. I’m not used to being noticed by a guy my age, and I conceal the pink tint in my cheeks behind the woven sleeve of my coverup.
“He’s on his way. Had to cover for his dad at the fly shop this morning,” he finishes.
The fly shop. It’s the thing I remember the least about this place. That and Miles’s dad. I haven’t seen him around much this summer, and it feels like a punch to the gut to hear that Reed knows more about Miles’s life now than I do.
“Speak of the devil.” Reed motions to a space behind me. I track the spot.
“Sorry I’m late.” Miles jogs to catch up to me.
Before I have the chance to say anything in return, Reed’s parents push open the glass doors on the lower deck, his brothers barreling out behind them.
“Dude, we should wakeboard today,” Ronny says to Rex.
Rex is built a lot like Reed, but shorter for the oldest son. No matter how fitting the unfortunate nickname, Scrawny Ronny has a lot of catching up to do on all accounts. What he lacks in height and stature though, he makes up for in spunk.
“I’d like to see you try,” Rex teases, shoving Ronny on the shoulders. He stumbles over his left sandal and rights his stumpy legs in a martial arts stance. Then he roundhouse kicks Rex right in the nuts. Rex drops to the ground on impact, groaning.
“Trythat!” He chuckles, then darts to the back end of the truck.
No matter how many times they do this crap to each other (which is a lot), I fight this awkward cringe-laugh. Maybe it’s the part of me that can’t imagine acting that way in front of my parents. But at the same time, I find their ridiculous sibling rivalry entertaining to watch.
“Boys! Behave yourselves in front of Teddy,” Mrs. Morgan barks.
They ignore her as they follow their dad, wrestling the whole way.
A few short minutes later, we coast out of the marina. Rex and Ronny take the seats at the front end of the boat and Miles, Reed, and I sandwich together on the back bench. Mr. Morgan connects his phone to the Bluetooth speakers and country music becomes the soundtrack of our summer.
Ronny milks his baby-of-the-family status for all it’s worth and wakeboards first. At the earliest bump of troubled water, he faceplants and we all grimace at the sound of slapping skin on the water’s surface. Reed holds the six-inch flag high in the air as the boat circles back, then nudges me in the arm.
“Teddy, you should go next.”
I roll my eyes. “Sure, so you can watch me biff it like poor Ronny out there.”
Reed gasps, slapping his hand against his chest. “Geez, I can’t believe you would think so little of me. I happen to think you’ll do great.” A smile dances in his eyes.
“Right. Says the guy who made it his mission to flip me off the tube all summer,” I argue.
