And I look at a bright blue sky and where it touches the ocean, and I hear a voice tell me that I don’t belong anywhere. Not with anyone.

I go from a sprint.

To a run.

To a jog.

To a walk.

To standing still on the beach with the water rolling over my feet.

And wondering what I should do next and remembering that Grammy says you should always follow your heart. But it doesn’t seem smart to follow something that is broken.

All of a sudden, the boy in black runs up to me, huffing and puffing. “Finally,” Ronan says.

Huh?

“We started running at the same place, but you left me behind back by the jetty where it was like you pushed a turbo button or something. You run like a machine. It’s crazy.”

“Thanks.” I turn to go.

“Can I have a rematch?”

“We weren’t racing.”

“Well, I guess you weren’t. But I was until I got a cramp and had to stop.”

“Sounds like an excuse.”

“Nope, just a fact. So, rematch?”

“Yeah, but not now. I’ve got to get home. We’re having a cookout tonight.”

“Lucky . . . I wish we were having a cookout.”

And without thinking, I turn to him and say, “Well, you can come. Do you want to?” I guess I ask because of the thing he did on the beach—that was pretty cool. I want to ask him why he cries. But I don’t.

“Really? You’re inviting me to a cookout?”

I shrug. “Sure. Why not? You eat, don’t you?”

“Whenever possible,” he says, smiling. “And a burger? Yeah, I’ll come. Your parents don’t mind?”

I take a sharp breath in. “No. They won’t mind at all.”

• • •

We come up the road just in time to hear Henry’s old captain’s bell signaling that he’s ready to start dinner. Henry stands near Olive’s enormous pine and brightens when he sees me.

“Hey, Delsie!” He waves. “Your grammy just called to say she’ll be late.”

We walk toward Henry but have to pass Ruby, who is casting a fishing line up into the trees.

“Uh-oh.” I warn Ronan, “Be careful. She may have a lure or hook on that thing.”

She whips the pole back over her shoulder, and Ronan dives into the bushes.

“Ruby!” I yell. “Is there a hook on that?”

“No, sorry to scare you,” she says. “I’m practicing to work on Daddy’s boat!”

“And you’re doing a fine job with just a sinker on that line.” Henry walks over. “Who’s your friend?” he asks.

Ronan steps forward and extends his hand. “Ronan Gale, sir. Nice to meet you.”

Henry shakes his hand. “Good handshake there, Ronan. I respect anyone with a good, firm shake. And it’s good to have another guy around. You know, I’m kind of outnumbered here.” Then he winks at me. “But of course, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Henry heads over to the half-barrel grill and lights it up.