Silence on the other end of the line. Her mom had this sixth sense for when Lizzie was lying.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m just tired.”
“Lizzie.”
“Really, Mom. I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine. Are you homesick?”
“No, mom. I’m really fine. I just had a bad day at work, that’s all.” It was, by all accounts, the worst day of her working life thus far. But her mom didn’t need to know that part.
“Do you want me to call Jasper to have him drive down?”
“No,” she replied so loud some of the people on the beach turned to her. “I’m not a child. I don’t need my stepdad to come get me.”
Her mom let out a laugh. “I mean to take you out for a meal or something.”
“Oh. No. He did this for me. I don’t want him to know something’s off. Anyway, I have to. I’m almost at my place.” She didn’t like lying to her mother, but she also had to get off this phone.
Fortunately, her mom simply agreed. “Alright, hon. I love you. Keep your head up.”
“Love you too, Mom.”
Lizzie hung up and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She was walking along Smathers Beach now. Turquoise water, white sand, palm trees swaying in the breeze. Any other day it would be gorgeous. Today it just felt wrong.
A car engine behind her. Music blaring. Lizzie turned back and saw an open-top convertible fly by, full of girls in bikinis laughing and singing along to whatever was playing. They looked so carefree. So happy. Blonde hair fluttered in the wind as the car passed her. The entire road was lined with puddles from the heavy rains.
This one, however, was different. She paused as she saw the car slow, then do a three-point turn.
Why was it coming back?
Then she saw it.
Cynthia was behind the wheel.
“Oh, looser!” she shouted, as if they were still in high school. Then, to Lizzie’s shock, she drove the convertible into the wrong lane, right next to where Lizzie was walking–and drove straight through the puddle.
Dirty water exploded up and over Lizzie, drenching her head to toe. The girls in the car shrieked with laughter.
“Hey, aren’t those yesterday’s clothes?!” Cynthia shouted.
“Oh my gosh, stop it,” Emma shouted beside her as Cynthia made another three-point turn and drove back toward the hotel.
Lizzie stood there dripping. Filthy water soaked through her clothes, her hair, everything. It was in her mouth. Tasted like dirt and gasoline and rotting leaves.
A woman walking her dog had stopped to stare. A couple of early morning beachgoers looked over from their towels. Lizzie could see them deciding whether to say something or just look away. They looked away.
Of course they did.
She wanted to scream at them. At Cynthia’s taillights disappearing down the road. At Sarah for calling last night a mistake. At herself for being stupid enough to believe it could be anything else.
Her whole body was shaking now. Not from the cold. From humiliation and rage. And from the crushing weight of how spectacularly wrong this morning had gone.
Last night Sarah had touched her as if she were the most special person on earth. She’d whispered her name and held her close. At night, she’d slept on Sarah’s shoulder.
This morning Sarah had left money on the counter.
