He grins like an introduction is what he was hoping for. “Gregory McLoughlin.” He holds out his hand.
I shake it, and for a second my eyes drop to our hands. His is large and darker than mine, and looks rougher than it feels. I glance back up to his face. “Gregory McLoughlin. Are you on vacation?”
He drops his arm with a chuckle and arches a dark brow. “What if I am? You gonna blindfold me and make me walk into the ocean?”
“Are you a good swimmer?”
Am I flirting back?
“I would be if I had to be.” There’s something in the way he says it that gives me pause. Like he knows his way around doing things purely out of necessity. I also don’t miss the way he said “would,” not “could,” as if there’s no question he’d succeed.
I give him another once-over and say, “I don’t know you, so it’s either vacation or you’re new in town.”
I don’t mean it in a bad way. I’m not one of those locals who hate tourists. Sure, I like an uncrowded beach as much as the next person, but tourists keep most of the businesses in Kingfisher Cove running.
“I don’t know you, either.” He points to the only remaining vacant log around the fire. “I was hoping we could fix that.”
“I’m leaving, remember?” I try to hand him the Pepsi again.
He takes it this time, grinning, his eyes never leaving my face. He’s confident and directing a focused attention at me in a way I’mnot used to, and now that I’m not holding anything, I don’t know what to do with my hands.
Another girl walks up. I think she’s a senior, and she blatantly checks Gregory out. She reaches into the cooler to grab a beer and smiles at him. “Hi.”
He glances at her and sort of nods in acknowledgement before his focus is back on me. “Youwereleaving…,” he begins.
The girl, who’s definitely prettier than me, frowns and walks away. Just when I’m about to give in to the warm satisfaction of being chosen over her by this mysterious stranger, I hear her call out, “Kat Barlowe? Get over here! You can’t move away without saying goodbye.”
It’s like a splash of freezing-cold water. For the moment, Gregory may have chosen me, but Kat has chosen everyoneelse. She’s wasting these final moments in Kingfisher Cove with other people. I realize how pointless it is, standing here talking to this guy who’s probably only in town for three days.
I’m so ready to get out of here, with or without Kat.
I consider trying to find her in the sea of people, but who knows how long that would take, or if she’d even want to come with me. I don’t want to risk the sting of her saying she’ll catch up with me later. Yes, I’m bitter, and no, I don’t care.
“Sorry.” I finally smile at him and shake my head. “I still am.” In another life, if I were anyone else but me, I might take this opportunity to flirt and be spontaneous and maybe even kiss a stranger I’ll never see again. But I’m just Amelia Madden, Most Likely to Do Nothing.
He seems to realize I’m a lost cause. “Okay. It was nice to meet you, and maybe I’ll see you around…?” He trails off meaningfully, waiting for me to tell him my name.
I shake my head and take a few steps backward before I turn and walk away. He laughs like he’s not bothered at all by the slight, which irritates me because Kat doing the same to me is exactly what’s throwing me off tonight.
But for some reason the sound of his laugh follows me all the way home.
I feel a little better the next day.
I texted Kat last night as I walked home, to let her know I’d left, and thought she might reply with something like,Shoot I lost track of time—I’ll meet you at your house for movies and popcorn!But she didn’t. Instead she said she’d catch a ride home with someone and would have her dad bring her by to say goodbye in the morning. When I came home alone and told my mom what had happened (that we’d been at a party at apublicbeach withnoalcohol, of course), I cried and said I didn’t think Kat would even miss me.
My mom, who’s always been good at making me feel better, said some people just aren’t good at goodbyes, that the people we love the most are the hardest to leave, and maybe that’s why Kat chose to focus on everyone else. It’s less painful for her that way.
That made sense, and though I’m still sad we didn’t spend Kat’s last night staying up until three in the morning laughing and reminiscing, I’m not mad at her anymore.
She gets here around eleven. I’m glad she didn’t come earlier, because I only woke up fifteen minutes ago. If sleeping in was an Olympic sport, my shelf would be full of gold medals.
I’m crying as soon as I open the door. Then Kat’s crying too, and she hugs me tight.
“Sorry about last night,” she says, cheek pressed to my hair. In middle school I wondered if I’d catch up to her height, but no matter how much I grew, she always kept a couple of inches on me. “Everyone kept wanting to say goodbye, and I got caught up in it.”
I remember my mom’s words from last night. “Don’t worry about it. I understand.”
She pulls back and swipes at her eyes, then looks over my shoulder. “Oh, Margie!” she cries, and steps around me to crouch down next to Margarine. “I’m going to miss you so much.”
