“You want me to go to work?” He’s trying to be tough but I can tell he’s curious.

“Meet me at the docks.” I start down the steps and pause at the bottom. “Wear something comfortable.” I throw the instruction over my shoulder. “And be prepared to get wet.”

I probably don’t deserve another chance, so there’s a definite possibility that Aiden doesn’t show up. But I have nothing to lose, so I’m going to give this a try. I’m going to chase him for as long as he lets me—right up until I get on a plane to Arizona.

AIDEN

When I’m back in the house I decide I’m not going to River Depot. Olivia managed to string me along all summer, and now here she is, weaseling her way into my house with a smile and a hug. For what? So my mom can get attached to her and I can spend my senior year hearing about “the one who got away”? My mom is in the kitchen, piling dishes into the sink. You can always tell when my dad is doing dishes, because the plates are still coated in food. The only fun part of dishes for my dad is grinding things into oblivion in the garbage disposal. Even though my mom swears up and down that all that crap isn’t supposed to be going down our pipes. If it were up to Dad, he would feed corncobs down it like a meat grinder, just to see if he could.

Mom looks up when I come in. “I thought you were going with Olivia.”

The only reason I leave the house is to avoid having to talk to my mother about this. She just sat through her first dinner with a girl I brought home (not that I brought her home, or even invited her) and I know the night will hold nothing for me but questions and commentary on all things Olivia. So I’m on my bike, pedaling in the muggy evening air, and before I know it, I’m a block from River Depot. I shouldn’t go. Somewhere deep inside me I know that, but also, I can’t help but be curious about what Olivia wants. Any hope I have is pushed down remembering that Olivia said, not even an hour ago, that she was still moving. This is just her mending fences before she leaves, and all it’s going to do is hurt more.

But even as I think it, I’m pulling in to River Depot, dumping my bike at the rack and skipping the lock. It’s seven o’clock, and Beth is checking in the equipment for the night, stacking paddles inside the garage and pulling the door closed behind her as I come down the last set of stairs. She smiles and looks surprised when she sees me.