“You still haven’t given me my playlist,” I remind him.
“It’s still not ready,” he replies, matching my nagging tone. “Did you make one for today?”
“I’ve had a Summerfest playlist since I was twelve. I add songs every year.”
“Send it to me.” A new music act starts up on the stage nearby, and Gregory bops to the beat.
“Would you settle down?” I say when he taps me with his hip. “You’re acting like you’ll die if you stop moving.”
He sighs dreamily. “I love it when you talk shark to me.”
My jaw drops.
He leans in and says into my ear, “That’s right. I’ve been doing a little reading on your favorite animal.” Goose bumps flare down my skin as his breath brushes my neck, and he turns back to the rest of our group. “Did you know that some sharks have to move to stay alive?”
Kat’s staring at us, and I try to act nonchalant even though I’m indecently flattered. This feels different from the time he researched horseshoe crabs.
This feels like it’s for me.
As a group we inch forward again. We’re close enough now to see the menu posted on the side of the food truck, and we fall quiet for a moment while we read.
“Oh, Kat, look!” Felicity says. “They have a grilled cheese. Youshould give them your special recipe, because I guarantee theirs isn’t as good as yours.”
My chin jerks in her direction. “What?”
“I’m sure you know all about Kat’s Famous Grilled Cheese,” Felicity says to me, and directs the rest of her comment to Gregory. “Kat makes the best grilled cheese. Seriously, I’ve never had something so good in my entire life. The secret is a crap ton of cheese, a layer of some local jam she gets from here in Kingfisher Cove, and…” She frowns and squints one eye, then looks to Kat for help. “What is it you use on the bread instead of butter?”
Kat’s eyes are on the ground. “Mayo.”
“Mayo! Right. Anyway, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to order one from anywhere else again. Kat had a bunch of us over the other night and made them for everyone, and we couldn’t stop talking about it for days. Kat’s basically famous in Pinecrest now. It’sthatgood!”
No one speaks for a beat, and it’s about this time when Felicity notices that Kat’s not smiling. I’m not smiling. And Gregory looks pissed.
“Huh,” he starts, and I feel a sliver of unease creep up the back of my neck.
“It sounds really good,” I say, shooting him a warning look. Yes, this bothers me, too—because how hard would it have been for Kat to just say,My best friend used to make it back home?—but I don’t want to make things awkward.
“It does,” he says, and I know in that moment that he’s going to ignore me. “But you know what’s weird? It sounds a lot likeAmelia’s special recipe. Whichshecreated. Doesn’t it, Amelia?” I keep my mouth shut, because I don’t think I’m supposed to actually answer that. He’s eyeing Kat as he says it. “Yeah, it’s got Mrs. Reacher’s fig jam, so much cheese that it’sobscene, and that smear of mayo that I swear should make it taste terrible but doesn’t. The first time Amelia made me one, I could have eaten ten of them right then and there. Amelia’s Famous Grilled Cheese. Sounds a lot like the one you’re describing, doesn’t it?”
Felicity, bless her heart, just says, “Yeah, it really does.”
Kat’s cheeks are pink, and Gregory’s jaw flinches. While part of me relishes the fact that Gregory just stood up for me, the secondhand embarrassment is too much.
“Oh shoot,” I say, snapping my fingers. “I was supposed to get my mom lemonade right when I got here. I, uh, I’d better go do that real quick before I meet Shelby. We’ll catch up with you later, okay?” I wave a hand in Kat and Felicity’s general direction as I walk backward, pulling Gregory along with me. “Gregory, why don’t you come with me?”
The smile he gives me is so warm and happy, it’s like he didn’t just eviscerate my (sort of? prior?) best friend in front of me.
“Sure, I’d love to see your mom. Oh, do you think she brought the shirt I left in your room?”
I hear Felicity suck in a breath behind me, and I swear, I don’t know if I want to slap him or give him a high five.
“I don’t like her.”
“I couldn’t tell,” I deadpan.
“I don’t like her friend, either.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out a long, slow breath. “What the hell was all that?”
