When I don’t react, she snickers. “I’m kidding. Geez. You all right?” She’s frowning at me again.
“Sorry.” I shake my head, trying to get rid of the jumbled mess inside of it. “And I’m sorry again…about that night.”
“Seriously?” She lifts her brows. “It’s been three years. You think I’m still stressing over that? I mean, you’re a good kisser and all, but I knew we weren’t vibing.”
I nod along with her as she talks. “And I’m sorry I haven’t been by for a while.”
“Three years,” she reminds me. “You’re the one who made it awkward.”
“I did. You’re right. We’re friends, I shouldn’t have let that disastrous date ruin our friendship.”
She eyes me again. “Beck, are you okay?”
My head continues to whirl, the colorful cupcakes spinning and blurring. The voices around me grow louder.
“Is it Rosie? You and Rosie?”
At the mention of her name, I whip my head up and look at Daisy. “Have you heard from her?”
“Not since she got back a few days ago.” She puts up a finger to her customers and waves me to the end of the display case where she meets me. “Is she okay? Is Charlotte okay?”
“Yeah, I think so…I don’t know what I’m doing,” I mutter. Heat sears my skin as my heart gallops in my chest. Sweat bubbles at my temples and trickles down the center of my back.
She touches my arm. “Why don’t you sit down. You don’t look so good.”
“I’m fine. I gotta go.” Taking a few steps backward, I crash into a customer and whip around. “I’m so sorry.” I rush to the door and bump my hip into it, gulping in the balmy afternoon air. It does little to soothe my feverish skin. There’s a bench in front of the surf shop. I shuffle toward it and plop down the second I reach it.
Pinching my eyes tight, I plant my feet flat on the ground and shove away my surroundings. The pounding of my heart and erratic breathing drown out the sounds from the busy street andshops but also amplifies them at the same time. They whir in my ears, and my head feels detached from my body.
Bringing my hands together, I interlock my fingers, and the touch of my own skin centers me and gives me something to focus on. A smidge of light peeks through the blackness haze of my vision and sends a signal to my brain that I need to breathe. It takes several long moments before I’m able to implement Dr. Sam’s breathing techniques.
After my heart slows and I finally open my eyes, I sit back, my clammy skin cool when I make contact with the bench. Locals carry their purchases out of the shop behind me. Vacationers haul rented surfboards toward the beach to one side of me, and they pass on rented bikes going in the opposite direction.
I pull out my phone and check for new texts from Rosie. Nothing. I open my email and in my sent folder, I find the document I’d been ignoring for the last year. I stare at my electronic signature and initials.
The reality hits me like a blow to my gut.
It’s really over.
33
ROSIE
“How long is West staying?” Charlie asks from the backseat.
Good question.
“I’m not sure,” I answer honestly. But if I have it my way, he’ll be back in Seattle by tonight.
“Mama said we would go to the beach today. Do you want to go with us?”
“I didn’t bring my swimsuit,” West replies.
Charlie giggles. “You don’t need a suit. You can just wear shorts, silly.”
“I’ll have to check if I packed any.”
I’m not sure West even owns shorts.
