When we finally break away, it’s a full hour later, after midnight.
“We need to go,” I say.
“I know,” he says. “But not yet.”
14
Can We Take It All Back?
IT’S STILL dark when I open my eyes, and the stars are sparkling down on us. I glance up at Elliot to find he is wide awake, staring out at the water. He seems calm, the angles of his face still. I run a hand over a cheekbone and up around to his eyebrow, tracing it. I can’t believe that, only hours ago, we had never been this close before. I don’t want to be any farther away from him than right now ever again.
“You have so many freckles,” I tell him. “You don’t see just how many until you’re up close.”
Elliot looks down at me and smiles. Then he says the last thing I expect. “Let’s go swimming.”
“In what?” I ask as I watch Elliot’s smile become a mischievous smirk.
My eyes go wide. “What if we get arrested?” I ask.
“Look around, AB. Nobody is out here right now. And even if they were, what is the worst that could happen? You tell your parents you got arrested for swimming at night? They’d probably be relieved,” Elliot says. “You worry too much.”
I think on it. He has a point.
“I’ll close my eyes.” He grins.
“No, you won’t.” I shake my head.
Elliot shakes his head, too, and I give him a shove.
“I’m kidding!” he yells. “I’m kidding. Of course I will, if that’s what you want.”
I stare at him, hard, and he stares back, and then I get up and bolt toward the water, shrieking as I begin to strip off the layers, and dive into the ocean in my underwear. It’s ice cold, but I’m running on too much adrenaline to care. My whole body feels like it’s buzzing.
Behind me I hear a splash, and moments later, Elliot has popped up beside me, nice and close.
“I can’t believe you just did that!” he exclaims. “You keep surprising me, AB.”
“You really do think I’m some kind of nerd, don’t you?” I accuse him as I tread water, kicking my legs below me.
“Well, if the shoe fits.” He shrugs, and I respond by splashing him hard in the face. When the water clears the look that remains says I am in big trouble.
“You’re going down,” Elliot says in a low voice, and moves toward me, his arms encircling my waist. I shriek, but he doesn’t splash me or dunk my head below water. His eyes have softened as they search my face.
“I thought I was going down,” I say softly, one hand resting on his left shoulder, the other carefully, cautiously, running a hand through his wet hair.
“I changed my mind.” His words are barely audible as he leans in close, his lips finding mine in a kiss. This time, despite the chilly water, there is more heat between us. Something chemical that takes my breath away. I wrap my legs around his waist beneath the water as I kiss him back deeply. I wish we could stay out here all night. I wish so very much for this to be my Happy Ending.
“So, not to ruin the moment,” Elliot says later, as we sit huddled back in the lifeguard tower, his sweatshirt wrapped around us, “but do we need to talk about Will?”
My heart sinks a little at these words. Will. I don’t feel great about what we did tonight. He is a really good guy. Perfect and made for me and possibly highly influenced by Lucy Keating, but still. He didn’t deserve me disappearing on him like that.
“What did you want to talk about, specifically?” I say carefully.
“Come on, Annabelle,” Elliot says, a little more edge to his voice. “I know you’ve been spending time with him. Are you just friends? Were you just trying to make me jealous? Or is there more going on there?”
“Make you jealous?” I say. “I’m not one of your band groupies, Elliot.”
“Wow, band groupies?” Elliot says. “This isn’t the seventies, AB, and also, you didn’t answer my question.”
“He’s a friend,” I say.
“Oh, a friend.” Elliot’s tone is dripping with sarcasm now. This is the Elliot I know. Fiery and irrational. “A friend who just happens to text you all the time, who follows you around all day. Who watched me like a hawk as soon as I showed up to his party, where I find you in this dress—”
“I was wearing this dress for you,” I tell him, even though I haven’t been able to admit this to myself until just now.
Elliot doesn’t respond; he just looks away, out at the ocean.
I sigh. He doesn’t get why this is so confusing. I place a hand at the back of his neck, and gently turn his head toward mine. “There’s something I need to tell you. About all of this. About why Will is in my life, and why I think this is all happening.”
Elliot furrows his brows together while I take a deep breath and let it all out, the day in Fiction class and what Lucy said to me in the parking lot, about what Ava and I figured out. And it’s such a relief to tell him all of this, even if I’m not sure how he’s going to take it.
“But you believe me, don’t you?” I plead, searching his face. He has to believe me.
Except . . . he doesn’t.
Instead, he lets out a long howl of a laugh, and he just keeps laughing.
I don’t laugh at all. I can’t help it; I’m crushed.
“Take your time,” I say dryly. “Get it all out.”
“I’m sorry,” Elliot says. “But really, Annabelle? Seriously? A crazy woman comes to your class and says she’s writing about you, and what? You just believe her?”
“I didn’t just believe her,” I say. “I thought I just explained that to you.” He never really listens, though. “I opened my eyes. To everything that’s been happening. All the inconsistencies and the plot twists and—”
“Life is filled with plot twists, Annabelle,” Elliot says. “That’s what life is.”
“Can’t you just be sympathetic for a second?” I ask. “My life is not my life. It’s all out of my control, and you know how much I like being in control.” I say this last part jokingly, because I don’t like how this conversation has turned. I want to rewind to ten minutes ago.
But this causes Elliot to think. “It almost feels like some part of you likes this,” he says. “Someone leading the way for you. Someone designing your fate. Because every time you do something, like sneak out of a party or like two guys at once, you can have some excuse for it. You’re not actually doing anything wrong. It’s not really you; it’s Lisa Keaton.”
“It’s Lucy Keating.” My blood feels like it’s about to boil. There he is, the Elliot I truly know. “And this has been the hardest couple of weeks of my life,” I say. “Navigating all of this. I don’t enjoy this; I hate it.”
“Listen, I get it—your dad’s sleeping in the backyard.” Elliot nods. “It sucks that they’re selling The House, but shit happens. My mom moved away forever, Annabelle. She’s not coming back.”