“Too much.”
“My mother never wanted me to work the boat.” He plays with one of my stray curls. “She wanted Phoebe and me to get college educations and not have to work so hard for so little. Then she got sick and what little college money there was—it’s gone and my pops had to take out a loan against the boat.”
He moves his hand to the back of my head, burrowing his fingers into my hair, sending shivers down the back of my neck as we sit in silence. I steal a glance at him. His eyes are closed, and there’s a ghost of a smile on his face.
“So,” Alex says finally. “I dropped out of high school to work the boat because Pops couldn’t stand the idea of putting Mom in a nursing home. No one forced me to do it. I volunteered.”
My eyebrows pull together. “But Phoebe thinks—”
“My sister believes what she’s meant to believe,” he says. “Trust me, I hate getting the shit beat out of me every week because I didn’t bring home enough sponges or because Orfanos down the dock got a better price than I did. But Pops has his pride, you know? He’s doesn’t want anyone to know there’s nothing left, or that the boat’s at stake. And if Phoebe found out, Greg would probably offer our pops money, which would embarrass him even more.”
I touch the fading bruise on his cheek from the last time his dad punched him. The one he claimed he got in a bar fight. His face carries a powdery trace of salt from sweat and the ocean. Alex reaches up and pulls my hand away, lacing his fingers through mine.
“And the most fucked-up thing is that when my mom dies, I’ll be free,” he says. “I can’t even look at her because I feel so guilty. I don’t want her to die, but I’m so damn tired.”
“It’s too much for one person to carry alone,” I say.
“Yeah, well …” Alex shrugs. “That’s just the way life works out sometimes.”
The words “your secret is safe with me” are on my tongue, but I feel as if saying them will take away their power. Instead, I lean in and brush the softest of kisses against his lips. Of course, your secret is safe with me. He wraps his arms around my waist and shifts me onto his lap, kissing me until the world is a faraway place and the only reality is the two of us here on this bench.
“I missed you,” Alex whispers, his forehead touching mine, his fingers curled around the back of my neck beneath my hair, tracing tiny circles on my skin. “All week I’ve wanted just three things: hot wings, cold beer, and you.”
“That’s so weird. I’ve been wanting the same three things.”
“Yeah?”
“No, but I missed you, too.”
“You know, secrets don’t really stay secret if you make out on benches in the middle of the docks.”
I don’t have to turn around to recognize Kat’s voice. But I do. And she’s standing just a few feet behind the bench.
“What, um—what are you doing here?”
“I left my wallet at the shop.” She starts toward the store, her intended pace faster than her wedge-heeled sandals can carry her. “But don’t let me interrupt. I mean, it’s not like I’m anyone who matters.”
I stand. “I need to go talk to her.”
Alex nods and squeezes my hand. “I’ll be here.”
“Kat,” I say, hurrying to catch up with her. “Kat, please … I’m sorry.”
“It’s not really even that it’s Alex.” She doesn’t stop and she doesn’t look at me. “I mean, I get that. You’re gorgeous and clearly he doesn’t think of you as a little sister.” Kat fights with the lock on the front door. “But you could have at least told me. First Connor, now this. It’s like you have no idea how friendship works.”
She kicks the door with a cry of frustration and her hands to her sides, the key still sticking out.
“Kat, I’ve never had a friend before. Ever.” I give the key a gentle turn and the lock slides back. “It’s just been me and my mom for my whole life, and I’ve never stayed anywhere long enough to have one. Or, be one. I guess I’ve always known that I should have told you about Alex, but I didn’t want to upset you. Except—”
She sniffles. “Yeah, I was going to be upset either way, which is just stupid because Nick is so much better. No offense.”
“None taken.”
“I guess it’s just that I’d built Alex up in my imagination to be—I don’t even know. Like I had this dumb fantasy that one day he would realize how perfect I was for him.” There’s a note of embarrassment in her soft laugh. “And even though I know he’s so not right for me, the rejection still kind of hurts a little, you know?”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”
The shop is lit only by the crustacean Christmas tree as we step inside and Kat goes to the back room for her wallet. She’s back in only a few moments. “So I was thinking that maybe I’ve been a little pushy. I mean, I just plopped down on your bench and made myself your best friend without thinking that maybe you didn’t want one.”
“I do.”
“Thanks.” She smiles. “So do you think now that it’s Christmas break and I don’t have school we could go shopping on Monday after work? And, you know, maybe talk?”
“Definitely.”
“No blowing me off for Alex?” Kat asks, as she relocks the front door.
I hold up three fingers, a holdout gesture from the days I pretended I was a Girl Scout and made badges for myself out of construction paper. Before I realized homeless girls aren’t scouts. “I promise.”
Chapter 18
Greg is hunched over a bowl of cereal with a computer magazine when I come into the kitchen for breakfast the next morning. My hair is still damp from the shower and under my jeans and green plaid shirt I’m wearing the bikini Kat picked out for me. I could see my breath on my short trek across the yard, so I’m skeptical it’s going to be warm enough for the beach, but Alex insists the winter-morning chill will burn off by the afternoon. I take a bowl from the cupboard. “Where is everyone?”
“Phoebe is painting at the new house.” Greg slides the cereal box across the table. It’s his favorite, a healthy variety that tastes okay but feels like you’re eating a bowl of twigs. “And the boys are with my mom for the day.”
“I’m, um—going to the beach today with friends.”
The air between us feels overstuffed with the unspoken. I add to the thickness by omitting the part in which Alex is the friend, the beach is down in Bradenton, and I’m finally having my real first date. Greg nods. “What time will you be home?”
“Not sure, but don’t count on me for dinner,” I reply. “And I’ll have my phone.”
The crunch of cereal fills my head, blocking out the uncomfortable silence, and I focus on each bite so I don’t have to look him in the eye. Pretending Thursday never happened is harder than it seems, especially when the image of Greg holding the ruined book is burned painfully into my memory.
He’s still eating as I rinse my bowl and put it in the dishwasher.
“I guess I’m going to go now.”
“Have fun.” Greg glances up at me, flashes a quick smile, and then returns his attention to the magazine. I feel as if I’ve been dismissed and it stings a little.
“Thanks, um—I’ll see you tonight.”
I go back to the Airstream for my beach bag before walking over to Grand, where Alex is waiting in his truck. He’s sitting sideways on the bench seat, facing out through the open driver’s-side door. The sun hits him just right, catching the sun-bleached gold in his curls. He looks like living summer.
“Hi.” I step between his knees and he leans forward to kiss me. His lips are cool as I touch the ragged hem of his faded red board shorts. “Aren’t you freezing?”
“Nope. I’m amphibious.” He steps down from the cab, walks around with me to the passenger side, and yanks open the sticky door. It creaks in protest.
“Amphibious, huh? Born with gills and lay your eggs in water?”
“Well, I was going to say I’m cold-blooded.” He runs his fingers up through his curls and my stomach does a crazy little happy dance. “But now …”
I laugh. “Sorry.”