Anyway, nothing’s going to happen tonight. All our friends are coming to the boil, as are Declan’s, and knowing my mom, she invited some of her new Russian friends. The house and beach will be packed, and maybe somewhere in there will be a new guy to entertain myself with—someone who makes sense, who’ll be a perfect placeholder until I’m back in Chase’s orbit.

I feel firm in this plan as I go full country girl, tying a sleeveless gingham shirt (thanks, Jasmine) under my boobs and pairing it with cutoff shorts. I’ll have to cover up once the evening hits, but for now, I look cute and summery and up for a good time. I style my curls exactly how they taught me to at Seaside and add only the tiniest touch of makeup since I’ve yet to find an affordable mascara that stays true to the word “waterproof” when faced with parties on the beach.

I’m putting in the gold hoops my mom bought me for my sweet sixteen when my mom walks in. “Oh, Larotchka. You look so cute. Someone you’re trying to impress coming tonight?”

“I hope so,” I say with a smile. “But you’re still in your work clothes! People are gonna start showing up soon.”

“I know, I know.” She drops her bag on the bed and fans herself. “I can’t even think about what I’m wearing until I take a shower. They say New York summers are bad, but this heat is unbearable.”

“Missing your dreamy winters of twenty below zero?” I tease her.

“Ha ha,” she says, pronouncing the h’s with the hard Russian kh. “Clearly you have your father’s sense of humor.”

She always does that, brings him up strictly for the sake of crafting insults. I’ve gotten so used to it that I barely notice. But tonight, my head swimming with confusion about romance and relationships, I have a thousand questions about him and them that I know she’ll never answer.

Then again, he was a he, so how much would it really help?

Before I can ask something coherent, she slips into the bathroom for her much-needed shower, leaving me to collapse on the bed with a self-pitying groan.

We’re only messing around. I know that. I’m eternally obsessed with Chase Harding, and I assume Jasmine is still hooking up with Carter, in those rare instances where I lose her at parties or on the beach. It’s not that I think there’s more happening, it’s just …

Just what?

That’s your problem, Shannon would say. You can’t accept a “just.” You think you can, but you always need to know what’s past that, and sometimes, there’s nothing.