CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Kaitlyn
PAST
I knew better.
Kissing Bailey was a mistake, and I feel like a fool for ever believing he might actually return my feelings.
I’ve been replaying everything through my head on a loop for the last week, trying to figure out how I could have been so wrong. I mean, did something happen that I don’t know about?
I wish I could talk to Henry about this, but he looked so uncomfortable when I told him about kissing Bailey. I didn’t want to put him in the position of keeping secrets from Mirabelle. Honestly, I’m not sure he’d even know what to say if I did tell him. It seems like he has his hands full with Mirabelle anyway, based on the pictures that circulated of them the other day.
My acceptance letter to Duke came the other day, and I wish I was as excited as my dad was, but I can’t help feeling like I’d be more excited if I knew what direction I wanted to take with my life.
I tread water in the pool in our backyard while Dad flips hamburger patties on the grill. We only have anotherweek or two before it’ll get shut down for the winter. After that, the only way I’ll get to swim is by wearing a wetsuit and braving the frigid ocean water.
I’m taking advantage of getting out of practice early, and while surfing would be my first choice, I’m not really in the mood to go over to the beach house. I need a few more days to lick my wounds before I’ll feel up to pretending nothing happened like Bailey. He seems perfectly fine, though.
I dive under the water, and the silence that envelops me is peaceful. When I pop up, Hunter’s standing with my dad. “Kait, why didn’t you tell me Hunter was coming over for dinner?” Dad asks, and I wipe the water from my eyes.
“I guess I forgot?”
I had no idea he was coming over for dinner.
Hunter places his hand over his chest, feigning hurt on his face. “Ouch, you forgot about me?”
“Shut up,” I say, shaking my head as I swim toward the edge of the pool, propping my elbows on the edge. I’ve kept what happened with Bailey to myself, but Hunter was quick to notice I haven’t been myself this week. He kicks off his socks and shoes, taking a seat next to me to sit with his legs in the water. I pretend to gag, taking a few steps back. “Gross, your feet smell.”
He laughs and rolls his eyes. “Whatever. I showered before coming over,” he retorts, and some of the aching in my chest lightens at the sight of his easy smile.
“Did I really forget we had plans?” I ask after my dad steps inside for a minute.
“No, we didn’t. I just wanted to check on you.”
I trail my hands through the warm water, content with the weightless feeling. “Why? I’m fine.” I’m playing dumb, but it doesn’t take a genius to guess something’s going on.
“Really? You want to try that again?” Hunter asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Okay, so I’m a little sad, but I’ll be fine. We have an away game this weekend, and we’re going to have a blast. I already downloaded the new Scarlett Ashford album on my phone.” Her voice is beautiful and raw, and I don’t think it’s right for an upbeat single that’s been playing on repeat on the radio, but I can’t deny it’s catchy. She’s new on the music scene, but I’ve been really excited to see if she has songs that fit her better.
“Maybe I should listen to it too,” he says, kicking water at me with his leg. It hits my face, and without thinking, I splash him back. “Hey! I’m not wearing a swimsuit.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have splashed me first,” I argue, splashing him again as he laughs.
“Okay, I won’t do it again,” Hunter says, trying to block the water with his hands. “A couple of the guys on the team were talking about these haunted houses, and I wanted to know if you wanted to go? It might cheer you up,” he hedges, and I swim back up to the side.
Now it’s my turn to be surprised because that sounds like hell for Hunter. He doesn’t like situations where he’s not in control, which is exactly what a haunted house is.
“Have you ever been to a haunted house?” I ask, looking up at him.
“No, but there’s no one else I’d rather try something new with, especially if it’ll make you happy,” he says, his green eyes crinkling at the corners.
“That’s really nice of you to offer, but you’ll hate it, Hunt. If it’s the ones I went to sophomore year, people jump out from behind corners, and you’re fumbling around in the dark,” I explain, and I know I’m right when he winces.
“Okay, but they don’t get to touch you, right?”
I smile, shaking my head. “No, they don’t.”
