Part 7 (2/2)

I raised an eyebrow and gave him my best mischievous smile. ”Oh, yeah? well, I'll keep that in mind-although ... I'd be too creeped out to go in them alone, and my dad is working nights now, so he couldn't take me. But, yeah, one of these days I'll have to check them out.” I couldn't have left him a bigger opening. I waited. Hoped. Opened the driver's side door and started to climb in.

He took a step closer and leaned a tanned arm on the open door. ”Hey-”

I caught my breath and got ready to accept his offer to give me a full tour of the cottages.

”You should ask James. He knows all about the history of them and all that stuff-if that's what you're really interested in.” He was looking straight at me with his ridiculous silver-blue eyes and the hint of a smile.

I put the key into the ignition, turned it hard, and did my best at nonchalance, despite the heat that crept up my neck. ”Yeah, that's right. James.” I looked at my watch. ”Maybe we'll check them out tonight. He'll probably just be getting off duty when I get home, if I go soon.” I put my sungla.s.ses on. He stepped backward, then shut the door softly for me. His hands rested on the open window frame, inches away from my shoulder.

I shrugged. ”If not, maybe I will just bring a flashlight and go myself.” He laughed a little, then looked down at his feet.

”What?” I asked, a bit more indignant-sounding than I would have liked.

He grinned at me and put his hands up. ”Nothing, nothing.... I could show them to you one of these days too, if that's what you're interested in.” I paused, trying to determine if this offer was out of sincerity, interest, amus.e.m.e.nt ...

”Yeah? If you ever want to come down, you know where I live.” I smiled and put the bus in reverse. ”Otherwise, I'll see ya around,” I said brightly, hoping that it sounded casual, but mortified he had read me that easily.

He pushed off the door and waved as he took a step back. ”Bye, Anna.”

I nodded when I drove by, and he did the same. In the rearview mirror, I watched as he kicked a rock, sending it bouncing across the asphalt. Then he shook his head and laughed, and I was sure the humorous thing was me. Ugh.

It was close to five by the time I parked the bus in front of our cottage. I shut the motor off and looked out through the winds.h.i.+eld for a moment, straight at my mom's cottage. I didn't even know she'd lived in it. Had she grown up there? Spent summers? How many nights had she stood on the tiny balcony and breathed the ocean air?

A wave broke the stillness, and I shook the thoughts from my head before getting out. I looked up to the north end of the beach, where falling-down cottages dotted the hill and the bluff above. The sun hung low in the sky, spilling orange warmth onto them. crystal COVE BEACH COTTAGES: ISLANDS IN TIME ON THE CALIFORNIA COAST. That's what the sign over the little park store said. Again, I had a feeling maybe that's what my dad was after in coming back here. To go back to an easier, happier time in his life. I could see the draw, the charm he saw in it. His history ran deeper here than I had ever cared to ask about. My mother's, too, which was the problem. I'd done all my asking about her a long time ago, taken the simple answers, and packaged them up neatly in the back of my mind. And it would have been easy for them to stay that way had we not ended up here, on an island in time.

I pushed the thought from my head and headed up the front steps, but stopped short when something on the doormat caught my eye. It was a small folded piece of paper, weighted down with a cobalt blue piece of sea gla.s.s. With my name scrawled on the front.

I stared at it, running through the few possible people it could be from. But the sea gla.s.s narrowed it down to only one, and I felt guilty just thinking about her. After that first day of school, I never went back to Joy's cla.s.s. Getting switched to another English teacher was surprisingly easy once I told my counselor what was mostly the truth-that I couldn't take Joy seriously as a teacher when she'd been such a close family friend. Since then I'd done the best I could to put her and all she knew about my mom out of my mind. I'd wanted to at least bring her book back, but each day I carried it in my backpack, I found another reason to avoid her hall way altogether.

I set my bag down and knelt to pick up the gla.s.s and the note. Then I sat on the front step, placed the still -folded note in my lap, and examined the gla.s.s in the afternoon sun. It was the size of a small marble, time-smoothed and thick, and the color blue that could have been a vase, or a medicine bottle, or ... a mermaid tear. I stared down at the note, and waited a breath before I opened it.

Dear Anna, Found this on the beach today and I knew you would appreciate it. I want you to know, I understand your choice to leave my cla.s.s. I shouldn't have a.s.sumed you'd want to talk about your mother with me. For that, I'm sorry. I knew a sparkling, artistic side of her and would love to share that with you one day. But I realize that sometimes our histories can feel too fragile to sift through. If you decide you'd like to, come find me. And please, keep the book. It was a source of inspiration for her.

Maybe it can be for you, too.

Fondly, Joy I sat still, aware only of the rhythmic crash and rush of the waves and the closing-in sensation all around me. I wanted to know about her, I did. I ached to.

But I worried that Joy was wrong. That it wasn't history that was too fragile, but me. I folded the note up tiny and shoved it down into my bag, along with the gla.s.s. Not tonight. Tonight I'd go out with Jillian, away from the cove, and I'd feel better.

When I emerged from the steamy bathroom, our house all golden-warm with late afternoon sunlight-it seemed like forgetting about it all might actually work.

CHAPTER 16.

Jillian wasn't answering her phone, but I wasn't in a big hurry. I had no idea what the dress code might be for the party, so I pulled on some comfy shorts and a tank top and plunked myself down in my green chair to wait for her to call back. Outside, the beach was deserted except for an elderly couple walking hand in hand along the waterline. They were both barefoot, with their pants rolled up to their calves, which struck me as unusual and especially sweet.

My mind wandered to Tyler and his easy confidence. I'd actually most like to be going somewhere with him tonight, but that hadn't panned out. Either he was completely oblivious or just not interested. Both possibilities ended with him being unattainable.

And then there he was. Literally. Walking down the beach, carrying a bag and drink tray from the Beachcomber.

I shot up, smoothed my hair, and sat back down, all in quick succession. A minute later, when his face appeared in one of the gla.s.s panes of our front door, I was sitting in my chair, casually flipping through the first book I'd grabbed. I was the picture of relaxation.

He knocked, and I gave a little jump, then squinted at the door like I didn't know who it could possibly be. When we made eye contact, I gave him a puzzled look, which was quickly replaced by a smile before I got up and walked over to the door as casually as I could. Then I opened the door and felt stupid. He was still in the same clothes I had left him in, and I was basically in my pj's.

Luckily, they were cute and little.

I noticed him notice. ”Hi.” His eyes moved quickly over me before he brought them back to my own.

I smiled, my confidence bolstered by this small thing. ”I thought you had a dinner date ...”

”Yeah, well . She stood me up. Conference call with her new business partner. So I had these burgers from up there.” He motioned to the Beachcomber.

”You hungry?” I scanned the beach for any sign of my dad's truck before answering, which must have caused a too-long pause.

”You do eat ... right?”

”Yeah.” I brought my eyes back to his. ”Sorry. You just surprised me.”

He shrugged. ”I could probably eat them both if you're not interested. I was thinking I'd just sit all by myself down there on the sand and then take my flashlight and go check out some of the cottages all by myself too.”

I rolled my eyes. ”All right, enough. If you wanted to hang out with me that bad, you could have just asked. Lemme grab a blanket.” He raised an eyebrow. ”To sit on,” I said flatly, though I was flattered by the implication, however tiny. I stepped back. ”You can come in. I'll just be a minute.” I grabbed my phone and sent Jill a quick text: ”Guess I do have plans. See you Monday.” He scanned the beach just as I had a moment before, then stepped in and stood in front of the window. ”So this is what you see every day. Must be nice.” I moved some pillows aside and opened one of the storage benches in the little alcove. ”You saw it every day at work.” I pulled out a multicolored quilt, faded and worn thin after many a day spread out on the sand.

”Yeah, I guess. But I wasn't relaxing in my living room. I was at work. You get to live the life every day.” He turned slightly, so that he faced my mom's cottage, then nodded at it. ”I think we should try to get in there. That's the only one I haven't been in.”

”No!” I said, with more force than I had meant to. ”I mean, I just think it'd be too easy to get caught in there,” I covered. ”Too many people walk up and peek in the windows. I watch them all the time. Plus, my dad drives by a couple times a night, and he'd notice a light in there, believe me. Let's walk up to the north ones.”

”All right,” he said as we walked out the door. ”Let me just warn you, though-there's a reason they're condemned. Grab your shoes. And maybe a sweats.h.i.+rt or something.”

He stood aside for me, and I led the way down the stairs, which I was happy to do because the b.u.t.terflies in my stomach felt like they must be obvious on my face. Now the night felt like possibility. So much so that I almost didn't glance over at her cottage as we made our way onto the cooling sand.

Neither one of us said anything as we spread the blanket out. I sat down, and Tyler did too, close enough so that I caught a hint of chlorine again. He pulled two paper-wrapped burgers and a box of fries out of the bag, then some napkins. He handed me one of the sodas from the tray, then held his cup up.

”Cheers. To making it through your first week at Coast.” We each sipped from our straws, then he twisted his cup into the sand and leaned back on his elbows.

”So, what do you think so far?”

I cleared my throat and briefly imagined telling him that I had never found wild hair and the smell of swimming pools so attractive. ”It's not too bad, I guess.” I ran my fingers through the sand next to the blanket. ”People are definitely different here from my last school.” He swallowed a mouthful of food and washed it down with a gulp of soda. ”In a good way or a bad way?” I looked out at the ocean and tried to suppress a smile. ”I don't know yet. I'll tell you when I decide.” He nodded. ”I don't doubt it. You don't seem to be the type to hold back much.”

I c.o.c.ked my head a bit, surprised at this. He had no idea how much I could hold back.

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