“Okay.” I nod, determined. “So that’s the plan, right? Are we all in?” I dare to look at Lucy, who has her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes narrowed in a glare.
“Are we?” Frankie asks.
Lucy doesn’t look at either of us, but she springs to her feet and moves to the door. “Fine,” she says. “I’m in.”
Lucy
By the time we get to the Club for the tennis tournament, all I want to do is run in the opposite direction. “Come on, girls,” Mom says. “Keep up and stay close.” We follow her toward the tennis courts, where bleachers are set up along the perimeter so everyone can watch their neighbors try to cream each other in straight sets.
“Remember,” Mom says as she adjusts her visor, “no going off alone, okay?”
“Yes, Mom,” Frankie says, annoyed.
The last thing I want to do is stick around my family—especiallyMillie, who keeps looking at me with a mixture of puppy dog eyes and desperation. Part of me feels guilty for still having all of this anger, especially since I kissed Olivia, but I can’t seem to let it go. Every time I look at her, I picture her with Ethan, whether it’s fair or not. Anyway, it doesn’t matter, since apparently I’m “tasked” with talking to Olivia, which is what I was going to do anyway.
I glance around the welcome area and spot Olivia hanging at the back edge of the circle talking to Erica. A buzzing swarms my chest, and as if she senses my gaze, Olivia lifts her eyes, and they meet mine. She lifts a hand and waves. The smile breaks outon my face easily, and I relax, taking a step forward but not before Frankie elbows me in the side.
“I thought you guys dropped out when you broke up?” she asks.
“What are you talking about?”
Frankie thrusts her finger forward at a piece of paper hanging on the bulletin board. At the top of the page, big print says18–25 Mixed Doubles.
“You and Ethan are on court three. Playing Dylan and his older sister.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I spin around, looking for Ethan, and sure enough, he’s jogging toward me, a resigned look on his face.
“Ah, man,” he says, approaching. “Guess I forgot to take us off the bracket.” He’s wearing tennis whites, a sweatband cinched around his forehead.
“Oh yeah? Sure looks that way.” I cross my arms over my chest, furious.
Ethan glances down at his getup. “I thought I was playing singles.”
“Unbelievable.” I start to storm away toward the clubhouse, desperate for Olivia not to see me like this, ugly and rotten.
“What’s the big deal?” Ethan’s trailing behind me now, his voice sharp at the edge. “I thought we were cool.”
I’ve stomped so far that we’re now away from the crowd, closer to the beach, and I spin around to see his stupid face. “Cool?” I ask.“Cool?”I shake my head, unable to find the words to tell him how deeplynotcool we are.
“Well, yeah. I mean…I see the way you look at Olivia. Didn’t take you long to move on.” His mouth is pursed, like he’s practicedthat line over and over in the mirror, like he was waiting for a chance to deploy it.
“Me kissing Olivia is not the same as you kissing Millie.”
“Oh my god, so you did it?” He presses his palms to the top of his head. “Once again. Lucy the hypocrite!”
I ball my hands into fists by my side.Shit.I did not mean to admit that to him now, but how can he not see that what he did issomuch worse?
I shake my head and look up to the clouds, furious. “You kissed mysister.”
“And you kissed your ex, who you were probably hung up on the entire time we dated.”
“No, I wasn’t! I lovedyou, Ethan. And I always will in some way. But right now, I’m pissed as hell at you.”
Ethan blinks, stunned, and the tips of his ears turn red. “I loved you, too,” he says.
“That doesn’t mean we can or should be together,” I say. “You know that, right?”
Ethan wipes his arm across his face. The ire inside me softens but doesn’t dissipate, and as I look at him, I realize I’m not mad at him. Not really. Because he didn’t choose this. I did. And the person I’m really mad at is the person who could have avoided all of this pain, who could have told Ethan the truth earlier. I’m only mad at myself.
