Tucker waves at me over his shoulder before disappearinginto the dark. Cupcake stands at the door barking, and I wonder if Tucker is looking back at us in the dark. A bonfire tomorrow. I’m not sure I’ve ever been to one, but I’m doing lots of things I’ve never done now. All of my new life experiences seem to revolve around Tucker James, and I’m not too upset about it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
TUCKER
Idon’t know what I was thinking last night, walking to Charles’ house in the rain. The thunder had seemed distant, the clouds not too ominous, so it had seemed a safe bet. But then the skies had opened halfway there, and I’d given up trying to beat the storm, just walked right through the rain until it drenched my bones. Then Charles stared at me with those wide brown eyes, lips bunched at the side in concern, and I couldn’t do anything but let him take care of me. He made me a gluten-free dinner. Nobody does that. Nobody besides my dads have ever done that.
Who the fuck is this guy?
He’s won Super Bowls. Why is he making me gluten-free pizza and paying me to teach him guitar?
Someone has obviously put something in the water here.
I grumble and drag my feet as I head toward the tourism board storefront. Already the storefront is full, which is irritating in itself because surely everyone is going to turn around to look at me the moment I open the door. I take a deep breath, steel myself, and push inside.
River’s loud laugh greets me, instantly settling my nerves. Jesus, half the town is here. But somehow my gaze instinctively seeks out Charles, and there he is, right beside my parents. Traitors.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” I whine, flushing when all they do is stare at me.
Dad makes a constipated-looking face. “We didn’t say that. We asked if you wanted to ride together.”
“You asked if I wanted to ride into town together but didn’t specify what for.”
“Oh well.” Dad smiles at Charles as if to saythis is Tucker. “We aren’t going home after anyway, so it works out.”
“Okay.”
“Did you drive?” Pop asks, eyes shrewd and knowing, as if he’s expecting me to say I walked ten miles into town. As if the Camaro we fixed up together in high school isn’t always just sitting, waiting for me to return to drive it when I’m back in town.
“Yes, Pop.” I hold out the reusable grocery bag to Charles, who just raises one eyebrow in question. “The clothes from last night.”
Dad’s eyebrows practically disappear into his hairline. Oh, this gives the wrong impression for sure. “Clothes?”
“I got caught in the rain,” I hurry to explain so no one can think any particular sort of thoughts, since we’re among half the town. There’s always listening ears around. “I wore some of his clothes home.”
Charles’ smile isfartoo soft. “Thank you. You could’ve kept them.”
“Shirt was really soft,” I grumble under my breath, just as River stands up on a chair at the far edge of the room. I skirt over toward him in an attempt to get away from Charles andmy parents, only for Charles to follow behind me like an overgrown puppy.
“Listen up, everyone!” River shouts with his hands cupped around his mouth. “We owe a successful lantern festival to Ms. Marcia after handling it on her own for forty years. All the lanterns have been ordered, the festival is in two and a half months, but we haven’t sold nearly as many tickets as we could by now. So, tell everyone you know on the mainland to buy tickets. Two and a half months from today it’ll be all hands on deck to unpack the lanterns and have volunteers at the oceanside park.” River points at the four clipboards on the counter. “Sign up for different roles here. That’s it!”
“Meeting could’ve been an email!” Gilbert shouts from the back.
“Kill yourself!” River shouts back, and the entire room erupts into laughs.
“That seems extreme,” Charles says gravely.
“They hate one another,” I say in lieu of any further explanation, because explaining River and Gilbert will takefarmore time than I’m willing to spend here. I nudge his big bicep with mine. “You better sign up.”
Charles gives me a very scathing look that absolutely doesn’t do anything for me. “I’m going to help sell out the evening, I don’t need to sign up for anything else.”
“Well, if doing two things is too hard for you…” I scratch my chin as I lean over the clipboards, trying to pick one thing for myself. Ah, ticket scanner. Perfect. I sign up and look over to see Charles still staring at me. “Hello?”
“Don’t you participate?”
My eyebrows furrow. “Well, duh, but I can do that after scanning tickets. Want me to sign you up too? Or do you want something more exciting like cleanup crew?”
“Ticket scanner is fine,” Charles agrees softly.
