We follow the sidewalk, and the lake comes into view. Its surface ripples. An open grassy area slopes down to steps leading to the beach area nestled within a U-shaped rock formation. Parents and children are already out on the sand.
“You’re right.” I pin my hair down with a hand. “It’s pretty cute.”
“Yeah. I used to love coming here. Hudson and I would build sandcastles and try to catch fish with our bare hands.”
My lips almost start to turn up, but they fall flat when a party barge putts within the no-wake zone. Our friends’ laughter carries up the hill until someone cranks up the music, and everyone onboard sings along.
I’m a little kid again, watching the older kids ride away on their bikes for some adventure to which I wasn’t invited.
Will rakes a hand through his glossy curls. “They have a tube.”
We’re statues as they exit the no-wake zone and the engine roars. They surge across the water, around the bend, and out of sight.
No tubing for us. No skiing. No lying out on the boat. Only work.
His hands drop to his sides. “Well, that was heartbreaking.”
Why in the world did he volunteer? Guilt twinges before I squash it. He made his choice. “You could have been out there. No one asked you to stay.”
He glares at me. “You’re a delight. You know that?”
Ugh. This day is the worst. I cross my arms and scowl at the beach. Maybe it’s not that cute after all.
A young girl grabs a handful of sand and chunks it at a boy.
Will points. “Oh, look. Is that what you were like as a child? Terrorizing boys with words and sand.”
“You’re mistaken. The boy’s misusing his words. And oh, look”—I repeat his phrase—“he’s yelling at her now because he has sand all over his shorts. Definitely you as a child.”
I stalk away. Will he follow?
Why oh why, does an annoying surge of relief loosen my spine and wobble my legs when his footsteps crunch behind?
CHAPTER ELEVEN
MORGAN
As Will trails me back up the hill past porch after porch, Evelyn's rental house beckons through the trees, its sleek glass windows and sharp, angular design something off both an architectural website and a country-living blog. The lush landscaping surrounding the front porch, blooming with vibrant flowers, add pops to an otherwise neutral palette.
“Wow.” I breathe deeply. “It looks so different in the daylight. These houses are gorgeous.”
“Right?” Will shades his dark eyes. “It’s like we’re in a modern country alternate reality out here. Maybe that’s why people love it so much.”
“Including your family?”
“Especially my family.” He clomps up the steps ahead of me. “I hope Fran didn’t lock the door.”
“I doubt it. She’s not that responsible.” And sure enough, when I try the handle, it swings open.
“I was hoping we couldn’t get in.” He shakes back his tousled curls. “Then we could go hang out at the pool.”
I don’t miss that he sayswe, but I ignore it and step into a living room as stylish as the outside, filled with modern furniture and bold artwork. Funny how I didn’t notice any of this last night with everything going on.
My phone chimes as I trudge up the stairs to search the bedrooms.
Ava: Mom says you’re with Will, working on a surprise. *Heart shape* I hope she didn’t manipulate you into helping Evelyn. I never know with her.
Not sure how to respond, I plop down on the top step and rest my elbows on my knees. I want to tell her the truth.Evelyn’s gone, and your mom is the worst. Oh, and there’s no surprise.If I tell her, she’ll come right back here and skip all the fun activities planned for her. She’ll see the long list. She’ll be mad at her mom. And her stress level will shoot through the roof.
