Since Last Summer

  “Right now?”

  “Yeah,” he said, putting the watch down. He buried his face in her neck and sighed. “I’d love to blow it off, but it’s Gordy’s birthday party.”

  She remembered Gordy from that night at the Ripcurl last summer. She hadn’t liked him much then, and she was pretty sure she wouldn’t like him much now. “Then I guess you should go,” she said.

  “Want to come with me?” he asked, looking up at her.

  “Now?”

  “Yeah.” His smile was almost goofy. “They’ll all remember you. You should come.”

  “Is that girl with the Farrah Fawcett hair going to be there?”

  “Which girl?”

  “Forget it,” she said. She sat up, holding the covers against her. “Actually, you should go. That’s cool. I can go home.”

  “But why not come?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbow. “I mean, you have to eat, right?”

  “Because look at me,” she said. “I need to take a shower. I need to change.”

  “It’s at his house. No need to dress up,” he said. He pulled her down. “And I don’t want to let go of you yet. How does that sound?”

  They kissed, but instead of feeling blissed-out and excited, she felt pinned down and trapped. Suddenly she needed to get out of his bed.

  “I really should get going,” she said, pulling herself up. “Where’s my suit?” She got out of bed and knelt down on the floor to get dressed. Out of his eye line, she pulled on her bikini bottoms and tied her top. “Okay, where’s my cover-up?”

  “So you’re leaving,” Mike said, with a bereft look on his face.

  “Just temporarily. You have a party to go to.”

  “A party I just invited you to.”

  “I know. I just don’t feel like it yet,” Isabel said.

  “What’s wrong?” Mike asked. “What are you running away from?”

  “Nothing,” she said, starting to get annoyed. “Why do we have to go out as a couple right this second? Can’t we take some time to see where this goes?”

  “See where what goes?” he said, sitting up. “What do we have to wait and see about?”

  “Maybe I have to wait and see how I feel,” she said. “Maybe it’s not all about what you want.”

  “You’re the one who came over here and jumped my bones,” he said. “Sorry if I’m a little confused right now.”

  “Ugh. I didn’t jump your bones.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I feel like you’re bolting.”

  “I’m not bolting. I don’t want to go to Gordy’s party.”

  “Right,” Mike said.

  She looked at him and shook her head. “Okay. You’re being annoying right now.” She walked out of the room and stomped down the hall. Her tunic lay in a ball in front of the door, and she grabbed it.

  He followed her down the hall in his boxers. “Hey, I’m sorry. I guess I’m just feeling a little insecure, okay? I mean, you show up here, we have this amazing time, and now you’re out the door.”

  She knew that she was supposed to tell him that he had no reason to be insecure, but for some reason it felt like too much to ask of her right now. Was she his girlfriend? Did she even want to be? In any event, this wasn’t the Mike she knew. He’d never been ready before. She tugged her tunic over her head and slipped her feet back into her shoes. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

  “Okay,” he said. He mustered a small smile. “Thanks for coming over.”

  “Bye. Have fun at the party.” She couldn’t get outside into the warm, buzzing night fast enough. Who would have thought that Mike Castelloni would be clingy, she thought. And that I wouldn’t want him to be.

  She got to her car and opened the door. She was embarrassed at her hasty departure but also determined to leave. It was only after she’d gotten back on the highway that something occurred to her: Maybe this was the new and improved Mike, the Mike who’d changed, the Mike who could actually be someone’s boyfriend. And she wasn’t sure if she wanted him.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  “So, okay. I guess I see that this was all my fault.”

  Rory sat next to Amelia on the Danielses’ deck, looking out at the calm, glassy surface of Peconic Bay as it lapped against the piles under their feet. She’d had no one else to call when Isabel had ordered her to leave. Not only had Amelia invited her to stay with her family right off the bat, she’d even listened quietly as Rory burst into tears and started telling her, in gulps and sobs, about what had just happened. All in all, not her most flattering moment, but she’d survived it. Rory had packed her things in under an hour, left without saying good-bye to anyone—not even Fee—and driven herself straight to the Danielses’ homey, cheerful yellow house right on the bay. For the past three days Amelia had been a solid friend and a surprisingly gracious host, making sure Rory had plenty of snacks and herbal tea and Mrs. Daniels’s delicious fried flounder with tartar sauce.

  Rory watched a sailboat glide past them and tried not to think of all the messages that were probably on her phone. The only people she’d texted were Fee—to tell her where she’d gone and why—and Evan—to say she couldn’t see him again. After that she’d locked her phone in her trunk and left it there, half to torture herself and half to give herself time to think. But there’d been less thinking than she’d hoped, and instead more feeling—feeling angry, feeling sad, feeling regretful. After three days she was more confused than ever. When she looked back on the events of the past few weeks, she couldn’t even figure out the through-line of it all. She should have said no to Evan—but was she really at fault for liking someone? These were the times when she wished there were a wise-talking television judge who assessed your relationships, someone you could lay your case in front of and who would pronounce you in the clear or guilty.

  “It’s not all your fault,” Amelia said, kicking her feet in the water. “Maybe just half.”

  “That’s still pretty bad,” Rory said.

  “It’s not going to be like this forever. Isabel will forgive you.”

  “No, she won’t. She hates me. I’m sure the whole family hates me by now, too. And Connor already hated me.”

  “Connor doesn’t hate you. You didn’t do anything to Connor. He broke up with you.” Amelia put her hand on Rory’s arm to stop her from biting her nails. “Stop that. You’re making me nervous.”

  Rory put her hands in her lap. “I should never have gone over to Evan’s house. What the hell was I thinking? There are girl rules about this kind of stuff. And I broke them.”

  “I’m not gonna sugarcoat it for you,” Amelia said with a slight edge of impatience. “You kind of did. But you also got pulled into the Guy Spiral.”

  “What’s the Guy Spiral?” Rory asked.

  “It’s when you go straight from one relationship to the next. You know, you get out of one thing, you feel bad, it didn’t work for whatever reason, and it’s a bummer. So then, consciously or not, you find the next guy and rush right into that. That’s the Guy Spiral. And then that doesn’t work out, and then you’re onto the next thing.”

  “Right,” Rory said, staring at the gold charm bracelet on her wrist. “But things with Connor had been so confusing for so long.”

  “Clarity isn’t always an option,” Amelia said, sounding wiser than her years. “Unfortunately.”

  They watched the sailboats drift by on the surface of the water, and Rory thought of Connor, living at his dad’s house. By now there was no way that he didn’t know about Evan. “So how do you know so much about relationships?” Rory asked. “What’s your story?”

  “My boyfriend and I kept breaking up and getting back together all through high school. It was like a bad soap or something. My friends weren’t talking to me by graduation, ’cause I’d annoyed them so much.”

  Rory laughed.

  “I think I was so in love with the idea of this guy, but it never became a reality. Every time I went back into it thinking, ‘Okay, this
time, I’m going to get the version of this guy I want.’ And I never did. And then when he broke up with me for the last time, on graduation night, I hooked up with some guy I didn’t even care about but who I knew had a crush on me, to make myself feel good. And I felt even worse.” She looked at Rory. “If it’s meant to happen with Evan, then it’ll work out,” she said. “Take some time.”

  “I think I should go home,” Rory said.

  “Don’t go home. Not yet.”

  “I think I probably should,” Rory said. “It’s time.”

  “Well, don’t decide anything tonight. Sit there.”

  “Okay,” Rory said. “I’m sitting here. Not moving.”

  She stayed frozen in that position for a good long while, until Amelia stood up and yanked Rory to her feet.

  “All right, you’ve proved your point,” she said. “Now let’s go eat dinner.”

  “But isn’t that doing something?”

  “Oh, shut up,” Amelia joked.

  Isabel did a perfect swan dive into the pool, swam the entire length, and got out, water streaming off her limbs. Her phone lay on the chaise in the bright sun, and when she picked it up it was red-hot. It had to be almost ninety degrees already, and it was only eleven in the morning. She pressed the button, clicking it on, and saw that she had another text from Mike.

  Buford’s tonight? Where r u? Call me.

  She flung the phone back down and grabbed one of the thick beach towels from the basket by the chaise. His fourth text. With each one that came in, she felt both excited and filled with dread. Pretty soon he was going to start calling, and then she would really be at a loss. As she toweled off she felt another pang of shame at the way she’d bolted from his house. He’d started being needy, but that hadn’t been it. And it hadn’t only been about going to a party she didn’t want to go to. It was something even harder for her to name, and to admit. Maybe what she really wanted, she thought now, was a guarantee that Mike wasn’t ever going to hurt her again. And there was no way that she was ever going to get that.

  But for the past week since Rory had left, she’d been too down and too lost to sort out her feelings about him. The day after her fight with Rory, her mom had come home from the club pale faced and grim. Isabel gathered from Fee that there’d been an army of well-wishers on the Georgica patio, lining up to dispense sympathy mingled with left-handed compliments, such as “You really had all of us fooled—good going!” and “It must be so hard to know that he’s got that bachelor pad in Sag—how humiliating!” Since then her mom had holed up in her room most days, watching daytime chat shows and staying in bed. Not the most uplifting atmosphere when you’d kicked out your best friend and suddenly found yourself completely alone. Well, not completely alone. Not anymore. It had been a no-brainer to call Connor.

  “Can you come home? I think Mom needs you,” she told him. “And I do, too.”

  That was all she’d needed to say. He’d come back right away. He was upstairs right now, presumably helping their mom decide between The View and The Chew.

  She lay down on the chaise, slid on her sunglasses, and turned her face to the sun. A few minutes later, she heard the sliding glass doors open and then the sound of footsteps.

  “How’s the water feel?” Connor asked, dropping a book and his sunglasses on the chaise beside her.

  “Pretty good,” she answered.

  “Man, it’s hot out here,” he said, pulling off his shirt.

  “How’s Mom?”

  “Not so great,” he said. “She’s talking about going back to the city early.”

  “Really?” Isabel asked.

  “I don’t think she will,” he said. “Sweltering humidity and the smell of stinking garbage isn’t going to help her feel any better.” He sat down on the edge of the chaise and kicked off his flip-flops. “I feel pretty bad for her. It sounds like those women at the Georgica really sank their teeth into her.”

  Isabel looked at the beads of pool water still drying on her legs.

  “And I know you don’t want me feeling sorry for Mom, but I do.”

  A thin breeze came in from the ocean, twisting the American flag around itself.

  “Connor, it’s not that,” she said. “I didn’t want you feeling this false loyalty to them.”

  “Well, I don’t anymore, okay?” he asked.

  Isabel folded her arms in front of her chest. “I’m sorry about you and Rory. I really am.”

  “You’re the one who kicked her out of here.”

  “I had my own reasons for that. And it’s not like I don’t regret it, either.”

  “Good,” he said.

  “Excuse me?” she asked. “What did you say?”

  “I know Rory,” he said, lying back against the chaise. “She’s not the type to cheat on anyone. Just because some guy went after her doesn’t mean that she deserves to get thrown out of here.”

  “So you’re defending her?” Isabel said.

  “She saw all my stuff. I wasn’t the perfect guy anymore. She could see all my flaws, and she was calling me out on some of them, and I couldn’t handle it. I bailed on her. She didn’t have a choice.” He stood up. “And if she had more in common with this guy than she did with me, then I don’t blame her for being into him.”

  His words rang true. Maybe Rory and Evan were genuinely drawn to each other. She hadn’t thought of it that way.

  “Anyway, about Mom and Dad, fine,” he said. “I believe you. So you can stop hitting me over the head with it. But it’s still taking me a while to absorb. I hope you can appreciate that.”

  “I can.”

  He slipped his shoes back on. “Do Sloane and Gregory know?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Are you going to tell them?”

  “I really don’t want to.”

  “And are you friends with the Knoxes now? Are you in touch with him?”

  “I was,” she said. “But I’m not sure what kind of future that has, if you want to know the truth.”

  “Now that you’ve unloaded on me, I have something to ask of you. Invite Rory back here. Tell her you’re sorry. I think that’s the least you can do. Don’t you think?” He picked up his sunglasses and his book and headed for the sliding glass doors.

  “Connor, wait,” Isabel said.

  He turned around.

  “What if she’s gone back to New Jersey?”

  “I don’t think she went home. Ask Fee. She’ll probably know.”

  “Okay. Thanks for coming over.”

  He shrugged. “You’re my little sister. It’s impossible for me not to help you. Even when you drive me up the wall and tell me stuff I wish I didn’t know. I’ll be sending you my therapy bill. I hope you know that.”

  “Okay,” she said with a laugh.

  He disappeared into the living room. Isabel watched him go, feeling closer to him than she had in weeks. He’d called her his sister. She hadn’t realized how much she’d needed to hear that until now.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Isabel lingered outside the Baybreeze Café, wondering exactly how to swing this. She wanted to pick up her last check—she didn’t trust Bill to actually mail it to her. She hadn’t spoken to Evan, or seen him, since the dumping, and she had a feeling that he might know about her fight with Rory. There was something unbelievably embarrassing about that.

  After pacing back and forth in front of the boutique next door, she took a deep breath and headed straight for the door. Lunch would be long over by now, and hopefully Evan would already be on his break. But before she could get to the door, Evan stepped outside, and almost walked into her arms.

  “Isabel,” he said, sounding surprised.

  “Hi,” she said.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Picking up my last check,” she said, pawing the sidewalk with her toe. At least he was alone, she thought.

  “I had Bill mail it to you,” he said. “I hope that’s okay.”

  “Oh. Okay. Thanks. Not
like it was that much or anything,” she said. “But thanks.”

  “Look, can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked. “If you’re not going anywhere.”

  Isabel checked her watch. The traffic on the way to the North Fork, where Fee had told her Rory was staying, would be intense pretty soon, but she was curious to hear what Evan had to say. “Sure.”

  They crossed the street toward the pizza place and the Lilly Pulitzer store. The sidewalks were strangely empty. The heat had only gotten worse as the day wore on.

  “I feel bad about how I ended things with you,” he began.

  Isabel cringed. “Don’t. It’s okay. Seriously.”

  “Let me finish, all right?” He stopped walking and turned to face her. “I’m not the smoothest when it comes to breakups. It’s kind of my weak spot.”

  “Well, it would be a little screwed up if you were good at them,” she conceded.

  “Yeah, you’re probably right about that.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Anyway, there are some things that I wish I said to you that day. And maybe I can say them to you now.”

  “Okay,” she said, kicking the bottom of a lamppost. “I’m all ears.”

  He looked right into her eyes. “I think you’re beautiful, Isabel. Stunning, actually. And smart. And funny. And a hard worker. You’re incredible. But we weren’t incredible together. There wasn’t any spark. You know what I mean? And that had nothing to do with Rory.”

  Isabel reddened and looked down at the ground.

  “Sometimes you can’t force it if it’s not there. And yeah, okay, I had feelings for Rory. But I never got the sense that you were crazily into me, either. I felt like we could be amazing friends. Or maybe it’s just me who thought that, I don’t know.”

  Still looking down at the ground, Isabel said, “No, it wasn’t just you. I thought we’d probably be better off as friends, too.”

  “But it’s kind of a moot point anyway, because Rory’s totally blown me off.”

  “What are you talking about?” she asked, looking up.