Page 81 of Summer Love

“My father took over. He⁠—”

His voice cracks on the word father. The fire snaps. Nobody speaks. I squeeze my cup between my fingers.

Jace breathes in, breathes out, looks at the sand. Miles gets up, puts a hand on Jace’s shoulder, and turns to the crowd.

“What Jace wanted to say is that thanks to all of you, the school isn’t going under this year either. Thank you, everyone!”

He lifts his cup.

“And if you don’t win anything tonight, just remember—what matters is that you drank with dignity.”

“Noah lost,” Luke calls from the grill.

A hand rises out of the sand.

“Not true,” Noah says.

Laughter, then applause. Jace steps back, nods to Miles, and disappears into the building.

I don’t move. It’s not my job to go after him.

Sierra takes over.

“Thanks, Miles. And now—the raffle!”

She holds up the jar full of folded slips. People crowd in closer.

“First prize: a one-hour private surf lesson with the instructor of your choice, courtesy of Walker Surf School!”

She draws number 81. A woman raises her hand, laughing.

“Next up: an artisan Italian salami from DeLuca’s.”

“Soppressata,” Luke corrects.

“A soprassina from DeLuca’s,” Sierra continues, unfazed.

Luke opens his mouth, then gives up. Sierra draws. A man in a Hawaiian shirt speaks up, delighted.

“And next, a free haircut at Søren Johansen’s salon—our new stylist!”

A few whistles from the crowd, somebody claps. Sierra draws—number 178.

A bald guy holds up his ticket. Cracking up, he runs a hand over his scalp, then hands the gift certificate to the woman beside him.

“And now, listen up… special prize: a ride around Coral Bay in Officer Evan Carter’s patrol car!”

Laughter. Evan, leaning against the building, crosses his arms and shakes his head with a resigned half-smile.

Sierra draws.

“Number 72!”

Dylan leaps up and waves his ticket over his head like he just won an Oscar.

“Yes! Sirens on?” he asks Evan.

“No.”