This new house doesn’t smother the images of the funeral—nothing will ever do that—but the house is different, the sofa is different.
My head falls to the side, and the numbers on the clock on my bedside table glow blue amid the slowly brightening light of the room. A breeze pushes through the open window, deftly touching the thin white curtain covering the screen. I shut my eyes and hope to drift back to sleep, but minutes later Landon’s face is still haunting me.
I thought I’d be used to this by now, seeing his face everywhere, but just like the memories of his funeral, it’ll always be there, torturing me, haunting me.
After a long time, and after suffocating myself with the pillow again to blot out the light, I’m still awake and I know I will be for the rest of the day.
Then suddenly, it’s Sienna’s face strolling through my mind, instead of my brothers. I had hoped to have forgotten about her by the morning. That’s pretty much what happened to the last few girls I took more than a sexual interest in.
But not this time.
I spring up from the bed, resolving to end this before it starts. I shower. Eat. Brush my teeth. Sit outside on the lanai and look out at the ocean. Then finally I call Allan at the resort and ask if he can fill in for me today. When he confirms that he can, I dress not to surf, but to hike, and set out to catch up with Seth and Kendra.
SIX
Sienna
He’s not coming.
God, I feel like an idiot—I really wanted to see him again.
Pushing down that uncomfortable feeling of being stood up, I rise to my feet and take my beach towel with me, tossing it over my arm without even shaking out the sand. Clumsily I step into my flip-flops and then shoulder my beach bag. I feel like I can’t get away fast enough, as if everyone on the island is looking right at me, whispering about the dumb girl who got stood up by the hot surfer; my stomach swims with embarrassment. And utter disappointment.
There’s a small group of people on the beach learning to surf, but this time Luke’s not among them. Maybe he got sick and couldn’t come today. Or maybe he’s just running late.
It doesn’t matter. I have to get ready to catch my plane.
Without looking back, I leave the beach in a very dry bikini covered by a pair of white shorts and head toward the hotel.
It’s for the best anyway. After today I’ll be back at home in San Diego and there’s not one good thing I can think of that I’d get out of spending an hour with Luke. If anything, I’d end up liking him enough to want to spend more time with him and I’d have to leave Hawaii more disappointed than I already am.
I saved the wedding from Veronica, Destroyer of Weddings. The caterer showed up as planned. The original band was a no-go when I finally contacted them. They said they’d already booked that time slot with someone else. But the guy took pity on me—after I’d apologized profusely for what Veronica had done—and made some calls. Turns out Veronica decided to fire them because they said they might be ten minutes late—unbelievable. At the last minute, just when I thought Mrs. Dennings’s angry gaze was actually going to set me on fire this time, I got the call. The new band showed up with just minutes to spare and everything else went smoothly the rest of the evening.
Mrs. Dennings never actually said thank you, but she didn’t call Cassandra and manage to get me fired, and I figured that was the best she was willing to offer.
Paige comes around the side of the building just as I’m walking up, a relieved expression settled over her features. Her pink-tinged cheeks blow up with air before letting it all out slowly like pinching the opening of a balloon.
“I’m so glad that’s over,” she says.