“Hey,” I say. “Thanks. For, you know… being cool.”
Tony shrugs. “Anytime.”
“I think I’m gonna crash on the boat. There’s not enough beds at the house anyway.”
He nods immediately. “Yeah. When you’re ready, I’ll walk you back.”
And he does.
The harbor is quieter now. Boats clinking softly against their slips. Water slapping wood in slow, sleepy rhythms.
It’s stupid, because Plymouth’s basically the safest place on earth, but walking beside Tony feels like having an escort through enemy territory anyway.
Like nothing bad could happen.
“Call if you need anything,” he says when we reachArtemis.
“I will.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He waits until I’m actually on deck before heading back.
The boat smells like salt and rope and sun-baked wood.
Home.
I shower again, scrubbing off the makeup and hairspray and Sage’s lotion and the whole night.
My real face stares back at me in the mirror.
Smaller.
Quieter.
More me.
I change into sweats and grab a blanket and pillow.
There’s a hammock strung across the bow.
I crawl into it like a cocoon.
The water rocks gently beneath me. The stars are stupid bright out here. The air’s cooler than I expect, even in summer.
I wrap the blanket tighter around myself.
Phone in hand.
I stare at Sean’s name for a long time before I hit call.
It rings.
Straight to voicemail.
Of course.
