And it wasn’t like it was a surprise to me. I had known, almost from the beginning, that Clark would be leaving when the summer was over. His life was back in Colorado, in an apartment in Colorado Springs that was currently sitting empty, though he had hired someone to collect his mail and leave a different light on every time, in the hopes of making it seem like he’d never left. I’d known this, of course. So why was it suddenly feeling like brand-new information?
I looked up and saw my friends all had identical sympathetic expressions on their faces, and I looked away from them and reached for the Doritos. “Let’s talk about something else,” I said, hearing how falsely cheerful my voice sounded but going on anyway.
“Really?” Palmer was looking at me like she was debating whether or not to let me off the hook.
“Really,” I said firmly enough that she nodded and motioned for me to share the Doritos.
“We could talk about Toby’s date this week,” Bri said, brightening.
Toby slumped back on her towel. “I’m still not happy about any of this,” she said. She pointed to me and Palmer. “You two are my witnesses.”
“Maybe it’ll be good,” I said, propping myself up on my elbow to look at her. “Maybe this is how the curse gets broken. Maybe this is how you stop selling the Cracker Jack.”
“I don’t think so,” Toby said with a sigh.
“You don’t know that,” Palmer said cheerfully.
“It’s that weird guy from the projection booth,” Toby said flatly.
“Oh,” Palmer said more quietly.
“Craig is a nice guy,” Bri said firmly. “And he knows a ton about movies.”
“Cause that’s always the first thing I look for,” Toby muttered.
“You can at least give it a shot,” Bri said.
“Or you could just flirt with Gregory,” I said, thinking about how every time I was at the Pearce he was going out of his way to try and talk to Toby, who barely acknowledged him. “I can tell he likes you.”
“Ooh, from the museum?” Palmer asked. “He’s totally cute-ish!”
“Ugh,” Toby said, rolling over onto her stomach, clearly done with all of us and this conversation. “I’m going out with what’s-his-face from the movie theater, okay? So just leave me alone.”
“You know his name,” Bri said, nudging Toby’s leg with her foot. “Don’t pretend you don’t.” Toby nudged Bri back—though it looked like it was maybe more of a kick.
“Hey!” Bri said, half yelling and half laughing. She reached out to retaliate as Palmer threw her empty Sprite bottle at them.
“You guys, we are on a roof,” she said. “No fighting until we’re on the ground!”
? ? ?
We all descended through Palmer’s room when it started to get dark out and then congregated on her gravel driveway, talking—but not saying good-bye, since I knew I’d be seeing them in a few hours, except for Bri, who was working concessions at the evening show and was trying to bribe us with popcorn to come and hang out with her.
“But it’s really not that bad,” she was saying as she and Toby walked to her car. I’d walked over from my house, but was feeling sun-stunned and lazy enough that I was considering asking them for a ride.
“That’s what you said before we actually saw the movie,” Palmer reminded her as Toby flung her stuff into the backseat. “Not falling for that one twice.”
“Andie?” Bri asked hopefully.
I shook my head. “But text when you’re done and we’ll tell you where we are.”
“Fine,” Bri said with a sigh as she got into the driver’s seat. But a moment later she stood up again and turned to me. “Oh, I almost forgot. The woman you work for—does she handle cats, too?”
“Yes,” I said a little warily, since I was well aware of the cat under discussion. Maya and Dave mostly did dog walking, but there were a fair number of cat-sitting clients on the roster as well.
“Good,” Bri said, shoulders slumping with relief. “Text me her info, would you? My mom needs someone to bring Miss Cupcakes to the vet and I almost lost a finger last time.”
“Sure,” I said, pulling out my phone and doing it while it was still fresh in my mind, saying a silent apology to Maya. “Done.”
“Thanks,” Bri said, getting into her car. I could already hear her arguing with Toby about something, indignation mixed with laughter, as they pulled out of Palmer’s driveway and headed out, Bri waving out the window as they went.
I shouldered my canvas bag—the slight prickling of my skin letting me know I might have missed a spot or two with the sunscreen—and started to head toward my house, only to find Palmer falling into step next to me. “Come on,” she said, nodding down the road. “I’ll walk you home.”
I looked down at Palmer’s bare feet with their flip-flop tan lines. “Shoes?” Palmer waved this away, and we started walking together, almost in the center of the road.