Page 132 of Summer Love

I can’t stop crying. I keep my hands over my ears, even after the screen goes black.

CHAPTER 41

Jace

Islam the trailer door behind me. Flip jumps down the steps and presses against my left leg.

I walk straight ahead, fists clenched. Not toward the pier—the other way. I pass the Hayes house without turning my head and keep going north, toward the edge of town.

The sand gives under my bare feet. The freezing water bites at my ankles. I grit my teeth but keep walking. Getting away is all that matters.

She knew. She always knew. She chose to do nothing.

A bigger wave splashes up to my knees. Flip trots silently beside me. His nose brushes my hand now and then.

“Stop acting like you give a shit.”

She vanished for six years. Not a text, not a call. And now she’s playing innocent in my trailer, asking me what happened like she has no idea.

The sand’s firmer here. The water’s colder too, or maybe I’m just starting to feel it. My toes are numb. My calves ache. I don’t know how long I’ve been walking.

Flip sits down. He looks at me, head tilted, ears low.

“What?”

He doesn’t move. I come back to him, crouch down, and rub his head.

“It’s okay, big guy.”

His tail thumps twice. We start walking again, slower this time.

The sound of the waves is steady, almost mechanical. Luke’s words come back to me—in the water, a few days ago. He wouldn’t look me in the eye.

“She asked me why you never went pro.”

“She didn’t seem to.”

Didn’t seem to know? Bullshit. She was here, Luke.

I shake my head. She was in Coral Bay that summer. She lived in the house next to the surf school. The whole town knew.

A wave licks at my ankles.

Of course she knew. She just decided it wasn’t her problem.

I keep walking. Flip shakes himself off beside me, flinging droplets onto my shorts. The air is cool. My T-shirt has dried on me, stiff against my skin. I’m cold. I don’t care.

“She didn’t seem to.”

The words won’t go away. I shove them down under everything else: the anger, the humiliation, six years of silence.

Eventually I turn back. I’m spent. The anger’s still there, but it’s settled.

The lodge lights grow brighter as I get closer. The music’s a little louder now, but the party has wound down.

Summer’s gone, for sure. She put on her innocent act and went back to the lodge.

The trailer finally comes into view. The light’s on inside, behind the drawn curtains.