“Head wound on the left side,” mutters one of the EMTs. “We gotta take him in.”
Ethan’s mouth is open, and his gaze is fixed on Billy while Mrs.Godwin shudders in my mother’s arms.
My vision blurs as I look at Billy’s body, see a gash on his skull. His clothes torn and stained with red smudges. His arms, covered in bruises. I blink, trying to see more, but before I can take him in again, one EMT drapes a white cloth over his body and lets out awhooshof breath like he’s trying to steady himself.
The EMT rocks back on his heels and wipes his arm over his sweaty face. “Call the morgue.”
Lucy
A roar of thunder echoes in the sky. “Quick,” I say. “We have approximately fifteen minutes before we’re gonna be drenched.”
“I refuse to rush ice cream time.” Erica digs into her cup of mint chocolate chip. “Besides, stop avoiding the question.”
“What was it again?” I play dumb, dragging my spoon through a scoop of fudge brownie.
“Why haven’t you told Ethan yet?”
“Ugh,” I say. “Because I’m a scaredy-cat.”
Erica sets her cup down on the table. “He’s going to find out somehow. You don’t think your parents are gonna spill the beans to Gil and Paula? They’re like…incestuous.”
“Ew.” I wrinkle my nose. There’s truth in what Erica’s saying, obviously, but not even my best friend in the world’s urging can convince me to tell Ethan about my college plans before I’m ready. “Mom said they would keep it quiet. And the girls don’t know yet. There’s no way they’d be able to keep their mouths shut.”
We’re sitting at a picnic table on Main Street outside Scoop DeVille, smack-dab in the middle of downtown Pelican Island, though there’s notthatmuch here. To our left is the Book Bonanza, and to the right is Hot Diggity, which smells like chicken tenders and French fries no matter the time of day or season. Even though it’searly, the street is buzzing with people passing by in their swimsuits and jean shorts, beach bags, and sandy feet as they all make their way to the Beach Club at the end of the block. No one seems that preoccupied with the summer storm swirling above.
Erica rolls her eyes. “Your mom is obsessed with you. You’ve gotta harness that power.”
I hold up my phone, which currently has three missed calls from her, all from the last ten minutes, though that’s pretty par for the course on Saturday, when she’s trying to get me to play tennis with her. “I know.”
She points her spoon at me. “You know that telling him the truth doesn’t mean you guys are gonna break up, right?”
“I know,” I say, looking down.
“Oh shit.”
“What?”
“Youwantto break up.”
“I don’t—”
“Don’t even try lying to me about this.”
“It’s just…” I start. “How did you know it was over with Billy?”
Erica hunches over the table and lowers her voice. Her eyes flick to the garbage can, where flies circle, surrounding the dregs of discarded sticky paper cups. I catch a whiff of the rankness as the breeze picks up. “There were a million little things. But the biggest one was I realized I had more fun without him. I was more relaxed when he wasn’t around. I wanted to spend my time with other people, people who made me feel…I don’t know, like I’m a good person.”
“You’re thebestperson.”
“You have to say that.”
“A boyfriend should say that, too.”
“And that’s exactly why I broke up with Billy. He made me feel like I was an accessory.”
“Well, single looks good on you.”
She takes another bite of her ice cream but then scrunches up her nose and pushes away her cup, looking like she’s about to be sick.
