“You hired her? Seriously, Ellis?”

He looks shocked. “She was nice. And she seems like she’ll actually show up. She called four times yesterday.”

I can’t help but groan. This is not how my low-key summer at River Depot is supposed to go.

“You should have said something if you had a problem.”

“You didn’t give me a chance. You had to offer her a job on the spot?”

Ellis rolls his eyes and gives me a fake pouty face. “Oh, I’m so sorry you have to work with a nice, cute girl all summer. My sincerest apologies for burdening you.”

I roll my eyes, because of course Ellis would have no idea who Olivia is or why I wouldn’t want her around—he doesn’t go to Riverton, he goes to South Hills, one town over. And yes, she’s cute, I guess. But she’s also got a boyfriend I’m not interested in running into this summer.

“Just hire some cute guys for yourself and don’t worry about me. Please.”

“What exactly is wrong with her?” he asks.

“She’s Zander’s girlfriend.”

All I get from Ellis—who has been to most of my baseball games since forever—is a blank stare.

“Zander. My catcher.”

Ellis shakes his head and turns away to go back to the boat shed. “Sorry, man,” he tosses over his shoulder. “Just doing my job.”

Fantastic. Now not only do I have to work with someone from school, I get to worry about Zander coming around. I rarely saw him around school without her. And the best thing about River Depot is that local kids don’t hang out here. Not yet, at least.

It’s almost seven, close to closing, and River Depot is nearly empty. Everything is quiet, and I can finally hear the river sounds now that it’s calm. The river is really shallow, and along the banks the water just barely skims over the tiny pebbles that line it. Even the deeper part, where we put the boats in, is barely past my knees in this section. The weeds that grow there float with the current, rippling just under the surface.

My mom is right, this would have been a beautiful spot for a house. That was the plan, fifteen years ago when my dad bought this place from my grandpa. It was struggling, barely getting by as a tiny general store and gas station. So my parents bought it with the plan of running it for a few years and then building a house here. But then my dad quit his construction job, doubled down on additions to the building, and started offering trips down the river. Our gas pumps are mostly for decoration now—the drive is usually too cluttered with boaters or shoppers, to actually pull in for a fill-up.

By the second summer, it wasn’t a general store anymore, it was a local tourist stop, right along with the beach and the wineries, and everything else. And now it’s my summer hiding spot. Sort of.