Tom Healy, a sculptor who worked mostly in foam and plywood, was sitting in an Adirondack chair and playing an old acoustic guitar. He nodded at us gently and kept on singing a country version of “Stardust.” A group of people were inside at the bar.

Marlin burst out of the restaurant with a cartful of glass pitchers filled to the brim and garnished with different fruits. She poured us each something clear, basil leaves floating to the top.

“Thank you,” I said softly.

“It’s tradition,” she said, kissing me on the cheek, an unexpected burst of affection, before turning around and running back to the kitchen. “Ty, we need your help!”

He squeezed my hand and ran to follow—and left me alone on the deck. In that moment, Jes walked out and climbed atop the railing, like a cat. She turned and looked at me with narrowed eyes, dissatisfaction slicing through the air.

“Was that you the other day?” she snapped.

“I—I don’t know what you mean.”

“Really?” She tilted her head back in contempt.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“It was you. You sneaked into my studio and then ran away. I saw your hair.”

“I’m—I’m so sorry,” I stuttered.

“Did you seriously run away?”

“I…I panicked.”

“I was at your studio the other day, and you acted like I wasn’t even there.”

“I was…” I looked at her skeptically. “I looked at you. You didn’t say anything.”

“I smiled at you,” she insisted, her face equally dubious. I knew she’d sneered at me. She knew it, too. She was trying to knock me off-balance.

“You had a lot of stuff,” she observed. Damn.

“Well, I’m very sorry,” I said to her, trying to sound like I meant it. “I’m not…I’m not like Max. I’m…” I shook my head, trying to figure out what to say. “I’m shy.”

“Whatever,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. “Grow up.” She spat that one at me, the words stinging like a hard slap, then swung from the railing and walked inside to the group, all smiles.

I looked over at Tom Healy, singing happily to himself, and he nodded, as though nothing had happened at all.

A laugh went up from the group inside. I didn’t dare go introduce myself—not while Jes was standing there talking to them. Cheeks burning, I stood frozen, watching the peach of the sky turn to apricot and then cherry, across the half mile of glassy black lake that stretched in front of us. I thought about Carey walking into it and wondered if Jes was the one who had pushed her to do it.

Eventually Tyler came up behind me, putting his arms around my waist.

I unwrapped them. “Not here,” I whispered.

“You’re embarrassed of me?” He smiled.