Still, I’d never dated a girl. I’d never even kissed a girl. Before and after Natalie, there had been a few on the cape and at school who made me feel the same way she did, at least physically, inspiring daydreams during school and those quiet moments alone in bed, my body pulled taut with thoughts that felt so easy and natural to give myself over to.
With the few girls I’ve been attracted to, there was always this guessing game attached to it. And I’d never gotten more than a friendship vibe from any of them. Hell, I barely got that. As Eva said yesterday, I can be a little prickly. I am my mother’s daughter, after all. Either way, there sure as shit hasn’t been any love, with anyone. Jay used to turn me into a puddle just by smiling at me from across the cafeteria, but I wasn’t in love with him. I’m not even sure I can fall in love. All I do know is that there has never been a person who intrigued me enough to find out. Not since Natalie.
Until now.
I mean . . . maybe?
God, I’m dizzy, because like I said, it can be a guessing game with girls. A constant push and pull of hope and crushing that hope so you’re not disappointed. Maybe it’s just me.
I press my fingertips to my forehead to try to get my brain back in place and think of some brilliant, affirming response to Eva’s confession.
Instead, “Oh” is the eloquent retort that comes out of my mouth.
Eva tenses next to me. “Does that . . . bother you?”
“No!” We both startle at how loud my damn voice is. “I mean, no. Of course not. I . . . it’s fine.”
A silence settles over us—?a hovering sort of quiet that’s waiting for me to fill it with more words, more truths. But I can’t get it out. It’s not that I’m ashamed. It’s just so damn new, this flesh-and-blood possibility sitting right next to me, the heady jasmine scent coming off her skin and mingling with the salty air and sand.
Eva offers a little laugh, leaning back on her hands and stretching out her legs. “Well, I’m glad it’s fine.”
“I didn’t mean that you needed my approval.”
“No, I know. But you never know how someone will react. Took my mom a couple weeks to get her thoughts around it all when I told her.”
“But she was cool with it?”
“Yeah.” She looks down, picking at a loose thread on her shirt. “She loves me no matter what. Loved me. God, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this past-tense way of thinking.” Sighing loudly, she rubs at her forehead.
“Eva—?”
“So what about you?” she asks.
I watch her, feeling again like I should say something comforting. Feeling again like she doesn’t want me to. “Um. What about me?”
“You and Luca? Have you and he ever—?”
“Oh my god, no.”
“Why not?”
“He’s like my brother. No, he is my brother.” I cringe for effect and Eva laughs.
“But you and Jay?”
I breathe out a long breath. “Yeah, me and Jay. Unfortunately. But that’s over. Way over. So over.”
“So you’re over?”
I splash some sand onto her feet, and she kicks it onto my legs.
“Are you dating at all right now?” she asks.
My gaze drifts to hers, a slow crawl. “Nope.”
She nods and looks away. “I’ve never even kissed anyone.”
“Are you serious?”
She winces a little, and I feel like a total jerk.
“Sorry,” I say, then put on a fake British accent. It’s really awful. “What I meant was, How very demure of you.”
It does the trick. She laughs. “Trust me it has nothing to do with being demure. I only just came out about a year ago. I mean, I’ve had crushes on a few girls, but they were all straight. Let me tell you how fun that was.”
Natalie’s pitying smile at the end of that summer flashes into my mind. Her soft hand on my shoulder as she turns me around and points out her college boyfriend waiting for her by his black Beamer.
Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea.
“And, I mean, I lived in New York, so I definitely knew girls who were gay. Just no one I liked. At least, not when I was brave enough to act on it. And I was dancing, like, all the time. There wasn’t time for much else. Like I said, this is my first real party.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. Depressing, isn’t it?”
“Kissing isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.”
Her eyes widen. “For real? Because it looks freaking awesome.”
I laugh. “Okay, you caught me. It’s pretty great.”
“Just as I suspected.”
Laughter explodes behind us. Turning, I see Jay, bare-chested, twirling his shirt around his head to a Beyoncé song like he’s a stripper or something. Girls flock around him, waving dollar bills and honest-to-god squealing.
“Good lord, he’s totally smashed,” I mutter, getting to my feet and brushing the sand off my butt.
Eva reaches out a hand to me, and I help her up. Her fingers grip mine a little longer than they need to. But maybe that’s all in my head. Maybe every look and smile and flirty smirk is forever and always in my head, just like it was with Natalie.
Ugh. Ugh infinity.
“Time to go?” Eva asks, ticking her head toward the bonfire. Jay’s belt buckle now hangs undone, football-printed boxers on display.
“I’d say so. You going to head back to Emmy’s?”
She nods and lets out a sigh. “Home sweet home.” But she doesn’t move. She just watches the water roll over itself, her eyes hazy in thought. There’s no doubt in my mind that Emmy and Luca, even Macon and Janelle, are really trying to give Eva a good home. Make her feel loved. Watching Eva, there’s no doubt in my mind that it’s not working. Maybe nothing can work right now.
“You want to meet me at the lighthouse later?” I ask before I can think better of it.
She turns to me, her eyes brightening. “Yes.”
No hesitation. No doubt.
Yes.
Chapter Twelve
THE NEXT MORNING, I’M BRUSHING MY TEETH, HALF AWAKE, when I hear my mother unleash a string of curses loud enough to rattle the windows.
It’s the ass-crack of dawn—?I’m up early for my first shift at LuMac’s—?so I’m pretty surprised she’s even out of bed. She and Pete weren’t home when I got back from the bonfire last night, but I waded through a trail of fresh beer cans when I sneaked out to meet Eva after midnight.
As always, my heart rate gallops and my feet itch to hurtle me toward my mother before my brain can catch up, slow me down, prepare me for whatever tiny nothing or huge something I’m about to face. I spit out a mouthful of foamy toothpaste and follow the eff-bombs.
Mom’s in the kitchen, a soldering iron in her shaking hands. My stomach sinks to my feet when I see an open can of Bud Light close to her elbow. I’m already inching closer, wondering if I can slip the can into the trash without her noticing, when I spot three pieces of thin, triangular sea glass, all hued in various shades of aqua. Next to them lie skinny strands of copper, ready to be mixed with the solder. I feel an annoying flare of childlike joy.