enough.
“Let’s go swimming,” I say.
He furrows his brow for a moment and glances out at the ocean. “Really?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“But this party is for you.”
“We won’t be gone long. Twenty minutes. Just say yes.” I grin then, feeling a strange wave of excitement pulse through me. “It’s my birthday, which means you’re not allowed to say no.”
He smiles and walks to me. And as I stand there, time slows down. He leans in closer, presses his lips against mine. And then, before I know it, he pulls away. It happens so fast I can barely react. “Well, then, birthday girl. Lead the way.”
As we walk down the steps, walk through the party, I float. Steven kissed me.
Steven. Kissed me.
Steven. Kissed. Me.
We leave through the sliding door, the sounds of the party muting as he shuts it behind us. He takes my hand, and we walk over the dunes, tripping a little bit in the dark. I nearly go down, my feet twisted in the grass, but Steven’s hand on my arm saves me. And we laugh, and he finds me in the darkness and kisses me again.
And now today, I am stuck sitting in Sienna’s driveway, replaying the same thing over and over, staring at my white knuckles. But I can’t sit here all day. I let go of my death grip on the wheel and wiggle my fingers a little bit to get the blood pumping again. Then I shove the door open. It gives its usual screech as I slam it and walk to the front stoop before I can change my mind.
Sienna swings the door open before I can even knock, which only makes me hope that she hasn’t watched me sitting in front of her house for the last five minutes.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey!” I’m surprised by how bright and airy her voice is. As though this is normal for us. “You’re just in time—I can’t decide between peanut butter and chocolate chip.” She holds up a recipe card in each hand, waving them both around. They’re bent up, smudged with flour and butter all over. A weird, melancholy wave courses through me as I look at the cute little daisy on each corner. I recognize them. The stain on the peanut-butter recipe is from the dirty mixing spoon I absentmindedly set on it three summers ago. It had been the fourth cookie recipe we’d tried, and by that point, it was all we could do to get off the couch and fetch the next dozen cookies out of the oven. We ended up watching a marathon of bad reality television , completely blissed out on sugar.
I’m overcome with the desire to reclaim everything, pretend the last two years never happened, if only for the afternoon. I want to be the girl in the kitchen, gossiping and making cookies and eating more dough than makes it into the oven.
“Both,” I say.
Sienna frowns. “I only have enough eggs for one batch, unless you want to go to the store with me.”
“No, I mean both together. Peanut butter chocolate chip.”
“Oh.” She brightens. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
I shrug. It feels weird to talk about cookie recipes when we have such weightier issues to deal with. There’s not just an elephant in the room; there’s a whole herd of them.
I kick my shoes off—I haven’t forgotten her mom’s no-shoes rule—and follow her through the great room and into the kitchen. It’s made to look like one of those kitchens out of a quaint farmhouse, all beautiful yellowed-buttermilk cabinets and an immense sink that resembles an antique washbasin. But, unlike a true farmhouse kitchen, this one is the size of a normal house.
Maple Falls Road really is an entirely different universe than the rest of Cedar Cove.
“Where’s your mom?”
“Bridge, I think. Or Squash. Something lame.”
I laugh, and the sound makes Sienna look at me abruptly. Her eye shadow is brighter than normal. Pink, set off by dark, kohllined eyelashes. Her surprised expression makes me realize I haven’t laughed in a long time.
“Melt the butter, will you? I’m going to go grab something.”
I nod and set to work. It only takes me
“Let’s go swimming,” I say.
He furrows his brow for a moment and glances out at the ocean. “Really?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“But this party is for you.”
“We won’t be gone long. Twenty minutes. Just say yes.” I grin then, feeling a strange wave of excitement pulse through me. “It’s my birthday, which means you’re not allowed to say no.”
He smiles and walks to me. And as I stand there, time slows down. He leans in closer, presses his lips against mine. And then, before I know it, he pulls away. It happens so fast I can barely react. “Well, then, birthday girl. Lead the way.”
As we walk down the steps, walk through the party, I float. Steven kissed me.
Steven. Kissed me.
Steven. Kissed. Me.
We leave through the sliding door, the sounds of the party muting as he shuts it behind us. He takes my hand, and we walk over the dunes, tripping a little bit in the dark. I nearly go down, my feet twisted in the grass, but Steven’s hand on my arm saves me. And we laugh, and he finds me in the darkness and kisses me again.
And now today, I am stuck sitting in Sienna’s driveway, replaying the same thing over and over, staring at my white knuckles. But I can’t sit here all day. I let go of my death grip on the wheel and wiggle my fingers a little bit to get the blood pumping again. Then I shove the door open. It gives its usual screech as I slam it and walk to the front stoop before I can change my mind.
Sienna swings the door open before I can even knock, which only makes me hope that she hasn’t watched me sitting in front of her house for the last five minutes.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey!” I’m surprised by how bright and airy her voice is. As though this is normal for us. “You’re just in time—I can’t decide between peanut butter and chocolate chip.” She holds up a recipe card in each hand, waving them both around. They’re bent up, smudged with flour and butter all over. A weird, melancholy wave courses through me as I look at the cute little daisy on each corner. I recognize them. The stain on the peanut-butter recipe is from the dirty mixing spoon I absentmindedly set on it three summers ago. It had been the fourth cookie recipe we’d tried, and by that point, it was all we could do to get off the couch and fetch the next dozen cookies out of the oven. We ended up watching a marathon of bad reality television , completely blissed out on sugar.
I’m overcome with the desire to reclaim everything, pretend the last two years never happened, if only for the afternoon. I want to be the girl in the kitchen, gossiping and making cookies and eating more dough than makes it into the oven.
“Both,” I say.
Sienna frowns. “I only have enough eggs for one batch, unless you want to go to the store with me.”
“No, I mean both together. Peanut butter chocolate chip.”
“Oh.” She brightens. “Why didn’t I think of that?”
I shrug. It feels weird to talk about cookie recipes when we have such weightier issues to deal with. There’s not just an elephant in the room; there’s a whole herd of them.
I kick my shoes off—I haven’t forgotten her mom’s no-shoes rule—and follow her through the great room and into the kitchen. It’s made to look like one of those kitchens out of a quaint farmhouse, all beautiful yellowed-buttermilk cabinets and an immense sink that resembles an antique washbasin. But, unlike a true farmhouse kitchen, this one is the size of a normal house.
Maple Falls Road really is an entirely different universe than the rest of Cedar Cove.
“Where’s your mom?”
“Bridge, I think. Or Squash. Something lame.”
I laugh, and the sound makes Sienna look at me abruptly. Her eye shadow is brighter than normal. Pink, set off by dark, kohllined eyelashes. Her surprised expression makes me realize I haven’t laughed in a long time.
“Melt the butter, will you? I’m going to go grab something.”
I nod and set to work. It only takes me
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