Page 25 of Tell It To The Waves

Standing at the checkout, the cashier comes around to check me out; we both recognize each other at the same time. “August.” Her sweet voice fills the quiet shop.

“Mrs. Libby.” I give her a wide smile.

Her tiny body maneuvers from behind the counter so fast, and she’s hugging me. “It’s so good to see you, baby.” She pats my back.

“You too.” And it really is. Mrs. Libby was a good friend of my mom’s.

Easing her grip on me, “What are you doing here?”

A forced smile comes to my face. “I’m here to sell the cottage.”

Her eyes widen and her small mouth falls open, but she quickly closes it. “Oh,” is the only word she lets out before she walks back around the counter to check me out.

Her entire demeanor changed in an instant. I watch her as she rings me up. Smiling sweetly at me, she says, “It was good to see you, August.”

“You too, Mrs. Libby.” I take my receipt and book, wanting to get out of there.

Pulling the door open, she says, “August.” I stop and turn back around. “Don’t rush into anything. If something is going to work out, it’ll work out.”

I squint at her, but she doesn’t elaborate. I give her a wave, exiting back into the cool night, her words repeating themselves.

The streets are dying down; the families back at their places for the night. I continue to walk, with nowhere in particular to go. It just feels good to breathe in the sea, feeling like I’m home for once in so long.

I don’t know how many times I’ve walked these streets. Sometimes causing trouble, but most times not. Everyone knew Baylee and me as well as the Westmore boys. I don’t know if that was a bad thing or a good thing. It was a time to have. I wouldn’t have changed growing up here during the summers. Driftwood Bay is where I fell in love, but also where I had my first heartbreak, along with everything else. It molded me, andfor that, I’m so thankful for it, even with the memories I wish I could forget.

As I continue walking, the sound of muffled music lures me. Turning from Main Street, I spot a little dive bar that used not to be there. Interest piqued. The bright neon sign readsPirate’s Hideaway. I can’t help but smile at the name; everything pretty much has an ocean-themed name here.

The entrance door is wide open, letting me get a look inside. It’s not packed, so I decided to stop and check it out. My eyes fly around trying to take every bit in. There are nets strewn around the ceiling, with fake crabs hanging from them. The bar looks like an old pirate ship, but a miniature version. Instead of actual bar stools, they have barrels to sit on. A random jukebox in the corner, two pool tables, and a few scattered tables. It’s nothing to call home about, but it’s unique to say the least.Where was this back in the day?

“What can I get for you?” the bartender calls to me before I’m even fully at the bar.

“Umm, what do you recommend?” I ask, lifting my eyebrow.

He holds up his index finger before pulling a glass from under the bar. I watch him move around, knowing exactly where each liquid sits. “Pirate's booty.”

I can’t help but let out a loud laugh. “And what’s in that?”

“Oh, you don’t want to know.” He winks at me before placing a drink in front of me.

Rolling my eyes, I take a sip; the flavors burst in my mouth, sweet, fruity, and hiding the alcohol that’s in it. It’s too easy to drink, which is scary.

Thankfully, the barrels are actually chairs, and not something I’m going to fall through. Using the bar to prop myself up to the barrel, I take small sips of my drink and watch the few people who are in the bar.

“How long has this been here?”

He throws his rag onto his shoulder. “About two years, I think. I’ve only been here for a few months.”

“I would have killed to have had this place here years ago.” I take a sip.

He smiles at me, his piercing glinting from his bottom lip. “You’re a townie?”

Tipping back the rest of my drink, I set the empty glass down. “One more, please. And not really a townie, summer resident, but haven’t been here for years. Just taking care of a few loose ends and I’m gone again.” I can feel the liquor taking effect, my cheeks becoming hot…or is it from him glowering at me like he is? He’s cute, definitely not clean-cut, and looks like trouble. I smile at him.

“Here you go.” He hands me another Pirate's Booty. Before reaching his hand out to me, he says, “I’m Cal.”

“Nice to meet you, Cal. I’m August.”

I sit and make small talk with Cal, learning that he’s from New York. “What are you doing over here?”