My hands balled into fists at my side. I blinked back the tears.

Penny spoke first. “I … I didn’t want to lose either of you. I thought if I tried harder, if I included you, we wouldn’t drift apart. I didn’t want you to be jealous I was spending more time with Chad, or think I was leaving you behind.” She inhaled sharply, like maybe she was on the verge of tears, too. “I guess I had this idea that it all rested on me. I wanted us to keep going on like we always had. The three of us.”

The boat was too small, this conversation too hard. It wasn’t going the way I had hoped for. My nails were digging into my palms, and my throat felt sandpapered rough. When I loosened my fists, relief surged up through my arms. The three of us.

I barely recognized the gravelly voice as my own when I asked, “So what does this mean for you and me?”

“I just think we need to be our own people for a while. We’ve been together so long that our roots are tangled. Thorny.” She cleared her throat. “We can’t grow if we’re still holding on to each other so tight.” She recited it like it was something she’d memorized already.

My dry lips parted. “Are you saying you don’t want me to hang out with Chad?” I asked, incredulous.

She hesitated, patchy color taking over her cheeks. “And about the sandcastle…”

She was skirting around the rest of the sentence. But I sensed what was coming. Icy heat shot down my arms. “You don’t want me and Chad to partner up,” I said, hearing the dull, finite tone in my voice. I should have seen it coming. “You don’t even like making sandcastles.”

“But we’re back together now.”

I understood. Translation: I’m his girlfriend and you’re not.

“What about Chad?” I asked, my voice raw. “You trust him but not me.” It wasn’t a question.

Penny closed her eyes. “I’m in love with Chad.”

“You love someone who you could just throw overboard like”—I snapped my fingers—“that?”

“I think you should go.”

“Wait!” I stuck my foot in the door before she could close it. “Where does this leave us?”

“Nothing’s changed, Babe. I still don’t want to—” She sucked in a sharp breath. “I love you, but you kissed my boyfriend.”

“What if that was me changing?” I asked desperately.

“Into what, though?” A flicker of a frown crossed her face.

I didn’t have an answer for her. It had been a dumb thing to say. I didn’t want to change into someone who kissed the wrong people.

She exhaled. “Yeah, I thought so. Change isn’t your get-out-of-jail-free card. It’s real. People aren’t meant to stay the same forever. You shouldn’t even want them to.”

“So what is it?” My eyes burned, my nostrils tingled hot and cold. “You’re mad because Chad kissed me or you’re mad because you only want the changes that you decide?”