“So, tell us everything,”Catherine says. We’re in the mall food court, clustered with Irene around a small table.
“It’s been an interesting summer, that’s for sure,” I tell her. “I met some family I never knew existed, learned all about the most notorious serial killer in South Carolina history, and spent most of my days on the beach.”
“Your tan is fabulous,” Irene says, eating a forkful of salad.
Catherine and Irene are my oldest friends. They’re the ones I turned my back on when I was busy sneaking around with Mason. I’d called them once my mom left that morning, intent on getting back to work, the beach…Richard? We left with the understanding I was going to France. My bag was packed. All my paperwork in order. We hugged. Cried, but it was also good to be alone in a big house for a minute. I just needed a chance to breathe.
“The beach is beautiful. I learned a lot about the area, hung out with some locals, ate a lot of fried food.”
“Guys?”
I shoot her a look, but that doesn’t stop Catherine from continuing. “Someone gave Mason that black eye. Looks like something a protective guy would do.”
Someone. I’m not even sure who.
I rest my elbows on the table and play with the straw from my drink. I’m tired of holding secrets. I’d almost ruined ourrelationship once that way. “Okay, yeah, I met a few guys. Four of them.”
“Four?” Catherine’s blue eyes bugged out.
“Best friends. They grew up down there and work in the area. They surf and play hard. They’re fun. Two are in college already and the other two are headed to the Citadel in the fall.”
“Oh, military guys. Rawr,” Irene purrs. I shake my head. “Who did you like the best?”
I can’t lie. “I don’t have a favorite. I liked them all.”
The girls glance at one another and laugh. “So, what? You’re crushed on all of them?”
I smile. “Yeah, I guess so. They’re okay with it. It was just a causal thing. Just a summer fling.”
“Flings,” Irene says, accentuating the ‘s.’
I shrug and give them a knowing smile. Catherine’s eyes bulge impossibly larger. “Did you kiss them? All of them?”
“Maybe,” I say slyly. But in the middle of that busy suburban mall, I can feel the heat of their mouths on mine. Their strong hands on my body, and I miss them. “They’re really great.”
“And you left them?” Irene asks.
“I came home—to go to France!”
Catherine puts out her hands to either side and balances them like weights. “Hmmm…France or four hot beach guys. Which to pick. Seems like a no-brainer, girl.”
“You’d pick the guys?” I ask, seriously.
“Maybe,” she replies, taking a sip of her drink. “If I liked them enough.”
That was the question. How much was enough? And what if it was too much to just have to leave them again anyway?
“So what time are we meeting tomorrow?” I ask, changing the subject. Even though it’s impossible to stop thinking about them, I can control speaking about them. It hurts too much to dwell on them.
“Eight,” Irene replies.
“In the morning?”
Catherine rolls her eyes. “Look at you, getting all soft, lazing around the beach all summer.”
“I’ll be ready. My mom scheduled a taxi to come pick me up. I’ll make it.”
“I’ll text you, too,” Irene says with a smile.
