And what I don’t say is this: I can finally figure out who I am,who I’mgoingto be, without the longing that’s been lining my core for so many years, the wistful notion that one day, Ethan and I might find each other and have it mean something. Now that the dream doesn’t exist, I can let myself look beyond the bounds of Pelican Island Road. Of our tiny slice of the world. It’s like kissing him has set me free.
Trevor winces. “Still weird as hell.” But then he softens. “You could have told me. We could have talked about it.”
“Oh really?”
“Well, yeah. We tell each other everything.”
“Trevor,” I say. “That’s not true.”
“Fair.”
“Are you okay?” I ask. “About Erica and Billy, I mean. This can’t be easy for you. Were you mad when she told you?”
“She didn’t tell me. Billy did, the night he died.”
“He did?”
Trevor pauses, his shoulders tense around his ears. Then he suddenly backs away, his hands outstretched, waving back and forth. “I gotta go.”
“Wait.” My mind is moving quickly, trying to put the timeline in place. “When did Billy tell you? At the party? Later?” I’m desperate now, pleading, and I don’t know why, if I even want to know the answer. “You can tell me. I’m your friend, Trevor.”
“You haven’t been my friend all summer, Millie,” he says, his words suddenly acidic and clipped. “Not when I really could have used one.”
“I’m sorry,” I say, tears stinging behind my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s too late,” he says. “Things are already so broken. And withBilly…He’s not coming back.” Trevor’s voice breaks. “Sometimes I can’t forgive myself even though I know we didn’t…It wasn’t….”
Ice runs through my veins. “What are you saying, Trevor? What do you mean?”
Trevor wipes his hands over his face and shakes his head. “I’ve got to go.” I reach for him, but he’s already gone, turning the corner away from me.
I crouch down and try to catch my breath, but it feels like Trevor’s knocked all the air out of my lungs, like he’s holding my throat in a choke hold. Because as I replay Trevor’s words in my head, I worry that what he’s just said, what he just revealed, is that all along we were looking for answers in the wrong places. This whole time, the answer about what happened to Billy has been kept safe with Trevor.
The Party
4:00 a.m.
Billy pressed his fingers to his temple, and when he brought them down, he saw blood, tiny specks coating his skin like paint. He looked up at his father and saw a gash right above his left eyebrow, small but visible.
“Jesus, Billy,” his dad said, pressing his palm to his forehead. He stormed away and returned a few moments later with the first aid kit, pulling out alcohol swabs and Band-Aids. “Sit.”
Billy did as instructed and let his father patch him up. “I’m sorry, Dad,” Billy said.
His dad nodded once as he unfurled the bandage, tapping it lightly in place over Billy’s cut. “I know,” he said.
They were quiet for a moment, the water rippling below them.
His father looked down at the tender tied to the ladder. “Let’s go back, okay? We can figure this out on dry land tomorrow.”
Billy looked up at the stars. The last place he wanted to be was home, where the reality of what was happening would actually set in, where tomorrow would bring stern talking-tos and tears from his mother, a conversation with Erica’s parents. No. Billy wanted one more night of peace, one more night of pretending that everything would be as it was in his mind. “Can I stay here tonight?” he asked, looking up at the stars.
Billy’s dad pursed his lips but then sighed. “Okay,” he said, glancingat his watch. “It’s almost morning, and I have a call with London soon. I’ll have Olivia come pick you up in the tender at dawn, okay?”
“You don’t want to stay here, too?”
His dad shook his head. “My alarm’s going off in an hour anyway.”
They both stood, and Billy’s dad paused for a moment, looking at his son. There was so much unsaid between them. NoI love you. NoI’m proud of you. But Billy’s dad rested a hand on his shoulder and patted him once. “It will work out.”
