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She’d only smile in response. “Like you. My sister who loves girls and who girls love back.” She was so proud of me.
The moment I had professed to Babette that I’m a lesbian, she had flung her arms around me with tears cresting her eyes. And she had whispered against my ear, “I’m so glad you told me.”
I might be older, but with only two years separating us, I often confided in Babette as a friend. Not just as a little sister that I needed to take care of and carry out of burning buildings.
I confessed to her, “Girls don’t love me as much as boys drool over Parry. Haven’t you noticed?”
She sighed. “Girls love you. They’re just afraid of you. They don’t realize what they’re missing.”
Was I jealous of Parry? He was so many grades ahead of me, but he seemed to attract every single soul under the sun. Even the people in grades below him.
Who barely knew him!
It was…infuriating. How likable Parry was. How likable he is.
I wasn’t trying to be liked. That word felt weak. Beneath me. I’ve always wanted to be feared.
And yet, it backfired. Growing up, I agreed with Babette. I felt that if some girls did like me as more than a friend, they were too scared of me to say anything. I intimidated them. I was unapproachable. Demanding.
Self-aggrandizing.
I didn’t want to change. And I never had to for Zoey. She saw the pieces of me that were harder to reach. Softer, vulnerable sides that yearned for affection. For cuddling on the fishing pier.
For the late-night heart-to-hearts.
For the soft, stolen kisses when they’re least expected.
She reached me once, but I shouldn’t let her reach me again. I’m different now…and she’s leaving soon…
I tear the thoughts of Zoey out of my head—I try to, at least. And on the beach, I focus back on Parry. He was Mistpoint’s resident heartthrob up until the sailing accident and his grisly scar.
Now he’s just another grim tale that people tell.
“Has Zoey filled you in?” he asks.
“She told me enough.” I feel eyes on us further down the beach. “We’re drawing attention.” It’s extremely rare that Parry and I talk one-on-one—definitely not at town functions—and Anna Roberts is inspecting us skeptically from a tent.
I also just questioned Anna about the missing girl. How can we be drawing suspicion when we’ve barely even begun the hunt? Ugh!
I’d like to think that I can go toe-to-toe with Anna Roberts and the town council alone. But I’ve never tried, and I don’t want to fail Zoey. She sees me as the ace up her sleeve.
Parry squats down and pretends to tie his boot lace. “Are you going to help us or just protect Zoey?”
He knows I’d prefer to just ditch the Scooby-Doo mission. “I’m doing both,” I say with too much bite. No takebacks. “A lot better than you are. I already spoke to Anna.” I explain the lack of information she offered and her caginess.
“This isn’t good, OB.”
“I know.”
Parry and I have more in common than just wanting to keep the Durands safe. We’re both town cynics. We’ve seen behind the curtains of Oz too many times.
“This whole thing might be one wild goose chase,” Parry says in his smoky voice. “What happens if the goose runs off the cliff?”
“You and I—we’ll run off the cliff with the Durands.” I have nothing to lose, and though Parry has always been willing to give more of himself to Zoey’s family—I feel like I can finally do that too.
I want to be here for Zoey more than I was in the past.
Parry studies me. “You’re really all-in?”
“Ye—” I cut myself off and say fast, “Yell at me.” Anna is moving closer to us.
He’s about to look at her.
“Yell at me,” I demand through gritted teeth.
Swiftly, Parry stands and towers over me. “You’re unbelievable, October. Always the same Brambilla. Can’t t-t-t-thhhink of anyone but yourself!” He kicks sand at me.
I glare, dusting sand off my lap like he infected me.
That was a little much.
And I’m wholly impressed. I didn’t think Parry had that in him. Internally, I almost want to smile and clap, but I spit back, “What did you think? That I’d be your little sidekick?” I don’t even stand up. Like his level is beneath me. “There is a line in the literal sand, Parry. You’re on one side and I will always be on the other.”
“Go to hell.”
“You’re blocking my view,” I say flatly, unbothered. I wave him away from me.
“Hey, hey!” Zoey is running towards us in alarm.
Oh no.
“Leave,” I say urgently under my breath to Parry while I rise to my feet.
Zoey is faster. “What’s going on?” She’s panting from the run and wedges herself between us, arms outstretched. “Were we not all getting along here?”
“We aren’t.” I shoot Parry a colder glare.
