“Tell me whenever you’re ready to get in,” Luke says, nodding toward the pool and drawing me out of my thoughts. I glance over at him, but he’s staring up at the sky, dark sunglasses over his eyes.
I say nothing, and a few moments later he speaks again. “I called you.”
“When?” I ask.
“That night. You asked whether I saw your messages after,” he says. “Did you see mine before?”
My heart drops. I can’t believe we’re talking about this. That he’s bringing up the night when everything changed.
“Only when I got home hours later.”
He nods.
“Why?” I ask, but he doesn’t answer. His question sounds random, but it tells me that he’s still stuck in the past. Dreaming about it, reliving it, wanting it back, and wanting it as far away as possible. It tells me he’s still sifting through all the details of that night, trying to find the exact moment before everything fell apart. The same thing I used to do for months after.
If only I’d never gone out that night.
No—if only I’d never kissed Luke the very first time.
If only I had never met Rowan.
If only I had stopped him ...
If, if, if.
“Okay, rise and shine, sleepyheads,” Willow says, coming over to us. “We’re getting in the pool. Do you want to play volleyball?”
“Sure,” I say, standing up too quickly.
“Us against you guys?” she asks.
Behind me, Luke is standing, pushing his sunglasses up on his head and brushing off his shorts.
“I don’t know if they can handle our trash talk,” Brett says, wrapping an arm around Willow’s waist, and she giggles.
“We’re both competitive. Like, supercompetitive,” Willow says.
“If that’s you trying to scare us, it’s not working,” Luke says as he dips a toe in the water.
Brett laughs. “Why do I get the senseyoucan handle our trash talk?”
“Hey, so can I!” I protest.
“It’s true,” Luke surprises me by saying. “She might seem all quiet and delicate, but Jessi’s not afraid to get her hands dirty.”
I run his comment through my mind, checking for any possible hidden meanings. When I find none, I say, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
Which is the last thing I remember before his arms wrap around my waist and I’m fighting to stay afloat in Willow’s pool.
“Luke!” I squeal, too shocked to form any other words. “You jerk!” I cry, but when I see him doubled over laughing, I can’t help but grin too.
“Your face ...” Brett says.
“Are you okay, Jessi?” Willow steps closer to the pool and calls over the sounds of Luke’s and Brett’s laughter.
“Barely,” I say, which makes the boys laugh even harder.
