I follow him through the alley, his heavy boots crunching the occasional piece of loose gravel, until the harbor comes into sight, and we turn the corner into the back of the boatyard.

“Do you want a picture of the bays open or closed?” I ask, trying in vain to put the invisible wall back up now that we’re alone, because I’m suddenly very scared of what we’re going to say to each other.

“That was just to get away from Winona. Forget the damn pictures,” he says in exasperation, standing in front of me on the stained concrete as gulls squawk in the distance. “Just talk to me, okay? Were you serious?”

“About what?”

“What you just said.”

Oh. That. I lean back against a short brick wall that sticks out between the mechanic bays and the alley, tapping my camera against the leg of my jeans. “Why do you want to know? Because it’s weird that I’m seventeen and you’re the first person I’ve made out with?”

He pushes hair out of his eyes and says, “It’s not weird.”

“Then why? Because it was bad.”

“It wasn’t.”

“I was bad.”

“No.” Dark eyes meet mine. “Definitely no. All the noes in the world baked into a giant cake and covered in no frosting.”

I smile and scrunch up my face. “Okay.”

“It was amazing,” he says.

I exhale. “Okay, good, because I thought so too. I mean, I have nothing to compare it to, but I’ve had some really tempting offers—like, Big Dave on a daily basis.”

“Don’t make me serve time for murder, because I would chop him up into pieces.”

“That sounds super protective.”

“Too protective?”

“No.” I shake my head. Then I whisper, “What are we doing, Lucky? If it was so good, then why didn’t you text me? Is it because we’ve made a terrible mistake?”

“Because—” He scrubs the back of his neck furiously. Turns around, paces a couple of steps, and then returns. “Because of Los Angeles. You aren’t staying here in Beauty, Josie. I’ve known that since I saw you looking at flight schedules in the Nook when you first came back into town. I can’t go through it again. I can’t … I can’t lose you all over again.”

“I don’t want to lose you, either.”

“And what we’re doing now? Josie … this is adding a whole other level to things. It’s going to hurt.”

“I know that,” I say, my voice getting smaller.

“But … ?”

I frown. “Why did you say it that way?”

“Because I know there’s a ‘but’ coming. You’re about to tell me about that ticking time bomb, and your grandmother coming back, and how your mom can’t live in the same house with her.”