Page 61

“Me and you,” she says.

I smile. “You did not.”

“I did. And I know you put them up there for me because I really wanted to be with all the big kids, but I was scared to sleep in here by myself.”

“You remember that?”

“I remember lots of things,” she says. “Like how Noble used to look at you, when you weren’t looking. He wasn’t as careful around me because it was easy to forget I was there.”

I frown. “Oh, come on. I think you’re misremembering.”

“I’m not, Hattie.” She turns and faces me. “And I know I’m not because it’s exactly how he still looks at you now.”

“Rowe,” I say, quietly. “Don’t.”

She’s still for a long moment, then says, “What if you weren’t wrong to love him?” Her voice is cautious. “What if you just loved him at the wrong time?”

I move to face her. “Who said anything about love?”

She raises her eyebrows, but doesn’t say anything else, and I wonder if Rowena is the only person in my life who actually understands how deep my feelings for Noble really went.

“You obviously need to do what you need to do,” she says. “But it would be really great if you let yourself be happy.”

“Well, then, I’ll be sure to keep my distance from Noble,” I say, sitting up. “That’ll make me very happy.”

Even as I say it, I know both parts of that sentence are lies.

She sits up and takes my hand. “Maybe just give him a chance. Maybe he’s changed.”

I think about his question from yesterday—“Do you think people can change?”—that hopefulness in his eyes that almost makes me reconsider where I’ve landed with my answer.

I squeeze her hand and stand. “It’s really sweet you think that’s possible, but people don’t change. You are who you are. And, when things get hard, your true colors show up.”

I walk over to the chair and sit, then pull on my socks. “I’ll be nice. I can forgive him for leaving and for dropping us all like we never mattered to him in the first place. But I cannot give him my heart.”

Rowena studies me. “Hattie, I hate to tell you this, but I think you already have.”

My sister’s words follow me down the stairs, outside, and all the way down to the lake, and when I see Noble sitting on the dock waiting for me with an open mug of coffee, I’m struck with the fear that maybe my sister has a point.

When I reach him, he holds the mug out to me, and I take it. “Does the Open Mug Club include all modes of transportation or just cars?”

Darn it. Why is he being thoughtful?

“I don’t think even I could manage this in a kayak.” I take a drink.

“Did I get it right?”

I conceal my smile behind the mug. “Shockingly perfect. How hard was it for you to put that much creamer in it?”

“I booked a therapy appointment for later today,” he teases. He gives me a quick once-over. “You ready?”

“Actually, some stuff came up, and I can’t make it out today,” I say without looking at him. “Just came down to tell you.”

“Oh. Right, okay.” I note the disappointment in his face.

I hate it.

“I can just come help you—” he eyes me for a beat. “Unless—” it’s like he’s reading between the lines, seeing everything I’m not saying in bold, black letters. Then, his posture and face change.