I pause in front of a picture on the hallway wall, of Leah and her best friend Skye from last year. They are both in their freshman cheerleading uniforms, their faces painted, their hair in jaunty ponytails. They have their arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders, two peas in a pod.
If only Skye had spent the night on the eve before school started, maybe it wouldn’t have happened. Or if I had taken up her invitation and gone into the water with her. Sharks would’ve shied away from two people.
God. When will I stop with the “if only” scenarios? It is exhausting. If only, if only, if only.
If onlys are useless.
My pacing leads me down the hall toward our bedrooms. My door stands wide-open, and Leah’s is tightly closed. I can’t see in there. I can’t see the furniture begging to be used, the bed waiting to be slept in, the Converses waiting to be worn by the door. It all haunts me, and so I keep it concealed. I’m not ready.
I practically leap past her door, and then close my own, so that I can’t see outside, so that I can’t see the door decorated with Leah’s name in blue sparkles and dolphins, with school newspaper clippings and photos. I can’t see it right now. Because I know she isn’t behind the door.
Within the safety of my room, I undress and get ready for bed, collapsing into the soft sheets. But of course, I don’t sleep. I don’t sleep much anymore. My body is rebellious. I want to escape into the oblivion that sleep would bring, but my brain won’t allow it. Instead, it tortures me with memories, with guilt.
I lie here, night after night, wide-awake.
Tonight, I hear Bo’s toenails on the floor outside my room, and I sigh.
I forgot him.
I get up and let him in.
He lies down directly inside the door, and soon, I hear his even breaths. Even the dog is sleeping. I toss and turn, and when I get up to pace at 2:00 a.m., I wake him by accident. He watches me in the dark with big soulful eyes.
“Did you see it happen?” I ask him quietly. He cocks his head like he’s trying to understand. “If you weren’t so afraid of the water, maybe you could’ve saved her. You’re worthless, you know that? You were supposed to guard her.”
Another if only.
Bo drops his head onto his paws as though he already thought of that, as though he, too, carries that guilt.
It makes me feel bad, and I pat the space on the bed next to me.
Bo jumps up with me, and when I bury my face into his neck, I swear I can smell a hint of Leah...her coconut lotion and sunshine. It brings hot tears to my eyes and I can’t control them. I sob, out of control, and Bo patiently allows it, even though his fur is soaking wet by morning.
Chapter Six
June 30
“Leah!”
The voice, a blend of excited boy and mature man, carried down the beach, and Leah lifted her head. She was standing thigh-deep in the water, her board floating beside her. When she saw Liam striding toward her, dressed in black shorts and a black tank top, her face lit up.
“Liam!” she shrieked, and she sloshed onto the shore and propelled herself into Liam’s waiting arms, soaking his shirt. Neither of them cared. “When did you get here?”
“Just now,” he answered, and while he would’ve lingered in the embrace, Leah pulled away to look at him. She examined his angular features, his slant of a mouth, his dark eyes.
“You’re not wearing eyeliner,” she pointed out. He smiled.
“Why bother? It would just melt off here anyway.”
“Good point,” she agreed. “I’m pretty sure you’ve grown an entire foot.”
“I’m six-one now,” Liam acknowledged, and she gathered he was secretly proud of that fact. Somehow, being tall seemed to exude manliness. “I had a growth spurt.”
“Yeah, you did,” she agreed again, and her arm snaked through his, the paleness of his New York City skin in sharp contrast to hers. “What are your plans today?”
Before he could answer, Bo came barreling down the beach, growling the entire way, his gold eyes fixed on Liam. Liam froze and Leah laughed.
“Don’t mind him,” she said, but she moved in front of Liam just the same. “He’s all bark. Bo, no. He’s a friend. Pet him, Liam.”
Bo sniffed at him suspiciously, but Liam obediently offered a hand. After a minute, Bo was satisfied, and flopped to the ground, allowing Liam to pat his belly.
“See?” Leah lifted an eyebrow. “Told you.”
“Jesus. How much does he eat?” Liam asked, eyeing the massive dog. Leah laughed.
“More than you and I do put together. Mom complains about it all the time.”
“I bet. How is she?”
“Mom?” Leah shrugged. “The same. Hard at work.”
“I like her.”
“She likes you, too.” Leah glanced down the beach and saw Derek behind his cabin, cigarette in hand. “When did your dad start smoking?”
Liam rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. Since I was here at Christmas. His job is getting stressful, he says.”
“Lung cancer is stressful, too,” Leah pointed out.
“Hey, I’m not the smoker,” Liam defended himself, his hands splayed wide. Leah smiled.
“What are your plans today? Wanna hang out?”
“Absolutely. Those are my plans.”
He carried her paddleboard and they dropped it off behind the inn. Bo stayed with Liam as Leah changed into jean shorts and a T-shirt, and then the three of them set off toward Nico’s on the pier for lunch. Bo waited at the door, flopping down in a heap as he eyed the food around him enviously.
At a nearby table, the pair ordered sandwiches and sodas.
“What’s been happening? What have I missed?” Liam asked, his fingers drumming on the acrylic tabletop. Since they were seated on the pier, sea gulls perched nearby on the railings, waiting for crumbs that might be dropped.
“You mean since we chatted last week?” Leah reached for the soda from the waitress and sipped at it. “Nothing. Nothing ever happens here. You know that.”
“How’s Skye?”
“She broke her wrist at cheer camp,” Leah filled him in, omitting the part where she had dropped her. “So that’s new. I have to go help her wash her hair every other day. She won’t let her mom.”
“She hates her mom,” Liam remembered.
“Yep. I don’t think Christy’s that bad, just annoying. But, man. She’s hard on Skye.”