I wonder if he’s replaying them in his head, like me.
Though if he was, he probably wouldn’t have so much resignation in his eyes. Resignation that suggests he’s shoving what just happened between us far, far away. Redrawing the line we’d just temporarily erased in permanent marker.
When we arrive at the dock, there’s no opportunity to confirm that hunch, because Mark’s there, whisking Grayson into a conversation. And three minutes later, his truck bumbles out of the lot as he rushes to pick up his little sister.
23
GRAYSON
I drainthe last of my beer and signal to Kara for another.
“Got it,” she says, whipping past with two platters full of empty glasses and plates.
“No rush.”
I mean it. It’s the Fourth of July—a Saturday, no less—and Dyl’s is slammed. It’s one of those rare, twice-a-year nights they’ve had to stop letting people in and shut down their waitlist. Noise fills the space from wall-to-wall, drinks flowing, bodies everywhere, despite having half the crowd out back, staking their chairs for the fireworks that’ll happen in a few hours.
“You good?” JJ asks, sitting across from me at the high-top, eying my fourth empty bottle.
I counter by nodding to his third. “Are you?”
“No work tomorrow,” he says.
I’m not buying it.
JJ’s never been a big drinker. Neither have I, but it’s even more out of character for him to down three beers in an hour-and-a-half than it is for me to have four. My guess is it’s something to do with Alex, his high school sweetheart.The anniversary of her death isn’t for another two months, but her mom always calls him on holidays, and he’s never totally right afterwards.
He also doesn’t like talking about it, so I choose not to pry, answering his question instead.
“Dawson didn’t reply.”
I’d held out hope that he’d still show up to Anson’s earlier today—for Lala, at least—but he never did. And our little sister noticed.
Fortunately, JJ swung by after seeing his parents and managed to put a smile back on her face. Thank fuck.
“He have a game?” JJ asks.
“Two days from now.” His schedule was easy enough to look up. “That’s fine if he couldn’t make it, but at least answer. Call and say hi to Lala.”
My little brother was never a jackass. A reckless moron, sometimes, but he always had a good heart. Not sure where the hell it is now.
But that’s not the only reason I’m welcoming the buzz in my head.
My vision drifts to the door again, like one of those annoying automatic sprinklers that keeps swiveling around.
“He’ll get right. Eventually.” JJ takes a long swig of beer. “He’d do the dumbest shit when we were kids, and then he’d come around and apologize.”
“Weeks later.”
“Sure, but he still did it, and you wouldn’t even need to ask for it,” he says, resting his elbows on the table. “He knew when he was wrong. I don’t think you just lose that when you grow up.”
I toy with the label on my bottle, trying to find comfort in that. Anson’s far past the point of goodwill.Maybe JJ and I are the fools here, but it’s better than believing Dawson’s changedthatmuch.
The front door opens, and my chest jolts. But it’s just a few locals making their way back inside.
Jesus,I need that beer.
“You gonna make me guess who you’re waiting for?”
