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I watch as she pours a second cup and hands it to me. Then take a tentative sip, repressing the strong urge to cough.
The contents taste more like citrus-flavored vodka than hard lemonade. Alcohol burns my throat as I swallow, then sears my empty stomach. I skipped eating lunch earlier, my appetite nonexistent after Holden’s brief visit.
I take another sip, then another, until I’m no longer chilly. Glance at the group standing around and half-listen to the chatter echoing around me. I’m undecided on whether or not showing up here was a mistake.
“You know Brooks?”
I glance at McKenzie, surprised she’s striking up a conversation with me.
“Uh, not really. We met last night.”
“He’s cute.”
I make a noncommittal noise in response.
I’m ninety percent certain that Holden mentioned Jordan invited McKenzie because he’s hooking up with her. But I’m definitely not going to ask McKenzie what her interest in Brooks is.
“I’m surprised you came.”
I take another sip, deliberating my response. “Why?”
“Doesn’t seem like your thing.”
“Ditto.”
McKenzie laughs. “Jordan said there are actual bathrooms with running water. If we were squatting in the woods, it would have been another story.”
I nod, not giving away I had no clue that was the case.
A little humbled and a lot depressed by the realization I barely thought this trip through.
How I jumped on the first sign of Holden giving a shit.
It’s not like he hung around my front yard and waited for me to get home. Called or texted me to see where I was. He just stopped by, then quickly gave up.
Another large gulp of sweet lemonade chases some of the bitterness away.
I haven’t forgiven or forgotten just by showing up here. I’m just refusing to keep avoiding, like I did all summer. Nothing would have changed or been resolved if I’d stayed in Pembrooke this weekend.
But I’m sick of that too—of always being the mature one. Of always making the effort first and him meeting me somewhere along the way. It’s not an entirely accurate assessment, but the rational, logical, forgiving side of myself is overwhelmed by booze and bitterness at the moment.
“She’s after him.”
I startle when McKenzie suddenly speaks, so lost in my own thoughts I’d half-forgotten she’s standing next to me.
“Not being very subtle about it, but just so you know. She’s like a shark circlingHolden Adams is singleblood in the water.”
I sip more, my head spinning and my appetite waning after that metaphor.
“Grace has always been a good friend to me, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind to her flaws.” McKenzie shrugs. “In her mind, she had him first.”
“She didn’t.”
McKenzie raises one brow at the venom in my voice. “I always figured there was more to you than the good girl act.”
I don’t respond, opting to drain my cup instead.
“Should be an interesting weekend. Cheers.” McKenzie tilts her drink toward me and then walks off, leaving me standing alone.
