“And he’s in the band.” Emmajean bumped her arm to Violet’s. “Don’t forget that part.” She looked at Frank. “She never dates. I’m trying to get her out of her shell.”

“She’s already out of her shell,” he wanted to say. “I already see her.” But instead he stood from his stool and dropped his balled-up cocktail napkin onto the bar. “I need to get back to my post anyway. It was really good to meet you,” he said to Violet.

“You too.” Violet bit the edge of her lip, and it was all Frank could do to take a step back as he saw a man approaching Violet and Emmajean. Frank recognized him as the bass player from the band. Emmajean made the introductions, and while Violet was polite, she kept shifting her gaze back toward Frank, a tiny gesture that filled his chest yet again.

Finally he waved, then started for the door. But just before he got there, he felt a warm hand on his arm. A gentle tug. There she was.

Seven

Tyler was stretched out on a flat rock at the edge of the river. With closed eyes he let the voices and laughter ringing all around him recede into a sort of faraway hum. With the heat from the rock seeping into his back and the breeze that felt almost cool, he was nearly asleep when a gauzy piece of cloth landed on his face.

He yanked it off and saw Cassie standing over him, one hand on her hip, a flirty grin on her face. She was wearing her new bikini, about three square inches of bright pink fabric and strings.

“Want to swing with me?” she asked.

He shook his head. “Too tired.” He’d opened the store early that morning, which wouldn’t have been a problem if he’d gotten any sleep last night, which he hadn’t. His dad had let him off early that afternoon, and Cassie and a few others convinced him to come out to Soldiers Creek for some fun, but now he wished he hadn’t come at all. His mind was singularly focused on the girl from the diner—who he’d then seen at Two Sisters Art—and she was all he could think about.

“Well, I’m going to swing. You can watch.” Cassie sauntered off toward the rope swing. The next guy in line grabbed the end and pulled it back for her. She jumped up and hooked her feet around the knot at the bottom of the rope, then he let go. With a shriek she soared over the shallow river’s edge and dropped into the depths farther out toward the middle. She came up sputtering and laughing.

He’d been having the craziest dreams since he saw her—the girl from the diner. He dreamed of soft bronze skin and a freckle behind an ear. A baby’s cry and a bright white sailboat sailing on calm blue water. Red-painted toenails and cups of sharpened pencils. He never saw the girl in any of his dreams, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that they had to do with her. With them both.