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Once we all finish eating, she shoos the three of us off to the local ice cream shop down the road.
“You two seriously come here every summer?” Matt asks as we walk along the quaint main street. “I’m so jealous. My grandparents live in a condo next to a strip mall in the middle of Florida.”
“Yeah, but I’m guessingyourgrandfather doesn’t ask about Weston fucking Cole at dinner,” Liam replies sullenly.
“Come on, dude. It’ll be that much sweeter when we destroy Cole in November,” Matt responds.
I don’t say anything as I stick my hands in the front pocket of Weston Cole’s sweatshirt. Have I always been surrounded by so many reminders of him? Or am I just hyper-aware of any mention now?
We arrive at the ice cream store to discover it’s crowded and busy.
“Get me a peach cone,” I instruct Liam. “I’ll go grab a table before they’re all taken.”
I head over to one of the few open picnic tables. They’re all painted various shades of pastel, and I settle on a light yellow one.
“Good strategy,” a voice says to my left. I glance over to a see a guy with blond hair and a friendly smile. He nods toward the line. “Make your boyfriend and his friend order and snag a table.”
“Uh, thanks,” I respond. “He’s not my boyfriend, though. That’s my brother and his best friend.”
I regret the correction when I see interest flare in the guy’s eyes. He holds out a hand between our two tables. “I’m Eli.”
“Maeve,” I reply, shaking his hand.
“Do you live around here?” Eli asks.
“Nope, I’m just visiting for the week.”
“Me, too,” Eli smiles. “Would you want to meet up at the pier one day?”
“I’m flattered, Eli, but I’m actually kind of with someone,” I respond. “Not my brother’s friend; someone else.”
My brother’s enemy. Who I daydream about kissing and push away in real life.
“I’m not surprised,” Eli replies. “He’s a lucky guy.”
“Uh, thanks,” I respond as he turns back to his own table, still trying to figure out why I told him I’m taken.
A fling with a cute, random guy who’s never heard of Glenmont or Alleghany is exactly what I should be pursuing. But all I could think about when he was talking to me was that his eyes were hazel instead of blue, and that his hair was blond instead of light brown.
“Was that guy bothering you?” Matt asks quietly as he takes a seat next to me and hands me my cone.
“No, he was actually really nice,” I respond honestly.
“If you say so,” Matt replies. “So, I was thinking—”
“They’re out of cookie dough,” Liam announces, taking a seat across from us. “Who runs out of cookie dough?”
“Evidently this place does,” I inform him. Liam rolls his eyes. “What were you saying, Matt?”
“Nothing,” he replies, taking a bite of ice cream.
The next few days pass almost exactly how I predicted they would to Wes. My mother works. My father, Liam, and Matt all talk, train, and obsess about football. And I spend most of my time playing card games with my grandmother. Her favorite is Spite and Malice, and I can never remember the complex rules, so she usually wins.
Our final afternoon in South Carolina, I emerge onto the front porch to find Matt sitting on the swing.
“Oh, hey,” he says, looking over at me.
“Hey.”
