I reach inside my pocket, the corner of Erica’s note pricking my finger. I could show it to them, but Lucy already told me it was stupid. There’s no way they would listen to me either. So I leave the note hidden, and instead ask, “You don’t think she killed Billy?”
In the quickest moment, Alex and Trevor exchange a worried look, almost a blink. A suggestion of a glance.
“No,” Trevor says. “No way.”
But that look, I fear, tells a different story.
Lucy
Even though I can’t leave our property, I walk as far as I can get to the very edge of the cliff on our backyard, where Dad and Gil installed a bench for what they call “alone together time.” I think it’s where they secretly come to vape. I slump down, close my eyes, and listen to the waves lapping against the rocks. Here, I can forget about everything—about Erica, about Penn, about Ethan. I can exist in a body and feel the breeze on my skin, smell the brackish mussels in the sand, press my feet into the warm pebbles, remember that I am here. I am whole.
I flick my eyes open and look up at the seagulls flapping their wings against the bright blue sky.Remember this, I tell myself.Remember how beautiful this place is.
“I didn’t realize you’d be here.”
I lift my head to see Ethan approaching, wearing running shorts, his chest bare, and a white tank top tucked into his waistband. He’s drenched in sweat, his curls damp against his forehead.
“Looks like someone was allowed to go on a run.”
“Nah, only on the treadmill,” he says. “But I saw you out here and…”
I slide over, making room. It’s not up to me if he takes the olive branch, but the least I can do is offer it. The bench creaks with hisweight. We’ve sat in this exact place so many times before, talking about nothing, holding hands and letting the silence get comfortable. For a brief, terrible moment, I wonder if I’ll ever feel that cozy quiet with anyone ever again.
“I heard about Erica,” he says. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know what’s real anymore.” The space behind my eyes stings and I blink, wetness coating my lashes.
“I’m sorry, Lucy,” Ethan says, his voice soft.
“About Erica or about last night?”
He makes a coughing noise. “Both? I was a dick.”
My chest unlocks, and I take a deep breath. “I wasn’t my best self either.”
Ethan clasps his hands behind his neck, his elbows pointing up to the sky, and I catch a look at him out of my periphery. He’s always his most handsome after he exercises, when there’s pink in his cheeks and a sheen of perspiration on his skin. I take in his profile, consider the crooked scar on his nose I’ve always found endearing, the curve of his jaw, the tiny gold hoop he never takes out of his ear. I didn’t expect all that love and affection I’ve tended to for years to evaporate when I said the wordsbreak up. But it feels like a betrayal that those emotions are still brewing, right beneath my skin, and yet, nothing in me wants to take back what was said.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Penn,” I say. “I was scared.”
“I know.” He smirks, toeing the dirt with his sneaker. “To be fair, I would have supported you. But I know that wasn’t the issue.”
“No. It wasn’t.”
“And I’m sorry about writing that postcard to Billy. It was stupid.” Ethan leans forward, rests his elbows on his knees. “I didn’t think I could compete with Olivia.”
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I say.
“No. I shouldn’t have. Even if we were babies.”
I turn to face him, resting one knee on the bench. “Do you think we still are? In the grand scheme of things?”
“Yes,” he says.
“I don’t know if I’m ready to be a full-blown adult. Not yet.”
Ethan shakes his head. “No way.”
There it is. That comfortable silence.
