Page 38 of The Last Thing You Said

“So, um, I think it would be good if you stayed away from Luce, okay?” His voice shakes like he’s nervous.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, she’s got enough going on in her life without having to, um, be confused about you, too.”

He thinks he can just waltz into town and talk to me like this? He doesn’t know Lucy, not like I do.

Like I used to.

“Who do you think you are?” I spit.

“Lucy’s boyfriend,” he says, his voice quivering.

He’s been here, what? Two weeks? And he’s her boyfriend?

He turns away and walks down to the beach to where she stands, arms crossed, watching her friends splash in the lake. He puts his hands on her shoulders, turns her to face him, and leans in to kiss her.

Lucy’s boyfriend.

Is not me.

21 · Lucy

Friday night, Simon is our designated driver, but I don’t drink, either. I need to keep an eye on Hannah, a firefly in the darkening night, flitting from one group to another.

She’s having such a good time. I wish I could let go like she does, let myself be so carefree and loose. She and Guthrie stand in the lake and splash water at each other. Guthrie seems lighter, happier, too, with Hannah around.

“Hey.”

It’s Simon, his brow furrowed. He puts his hands on my shoulders, turns me into him.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

He doesn’t answer, but bends toward me without hesitation and kisses me.

It’s sweet and smoky and sends a shiver down my spine. I reach my arms up around his neck and then he’s closer, warm, soft. Sweet.

He pulls away after a moment. “Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s perfect.”

I bury my face in his chest, close my eyes, and let myself believe it.

The next afternoon, Clayton is in the living room with Dad when I get home from the resort.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Nice to see you, too, sis.” He tips a bottle of beer to his lips and takes a long drink. “Tomorrow’s Father’s Day. I thought I’d go out fishing with the old man.”

Dad grins and they clink their bottles together.

“You’re letting him drink?” I say, my hands on my hips. Dad shrugs.

“It’s one beer, Lucy, lighten up.” Clayton scowls at me. He can get away with anything. “Do you have your period or something?”

So typical.

Dad shakes his head. “I sure haven’t missed all this bickering.”

“Grow up, Clayton,” I say.