“Told you.” I get a chip of my own. “Yep, I’m Californian, born and raised. My dad grew up here too. My mother’s family is from Mexico, but she and my dad met in culinary school twenty years ago. I’m the baby of the family.”
“The bakery was really cute,” Lucy says. “Do you enjoy it there?”
“Uh . . . sure. I mean, it could be worse. I could be working in some sketchy restaurant or out in the sun.”
“Well, then, you would have hated where I grew up. Dusty and hot and the only kinds of restaurants they have are sketchy. But I guess it had some charm. At least that’s what my dad says. He’s a pastor.”
“Are the two of you close?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Lucy smiles. “Yeah, we are.”
A sudden sadness crosses my heart. “I’m close to River. My parents are usually busy, and my other brothers are always gone. Sometimes it’s like River and I are on our own. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”
Lucy lowers her eyes, stirring her soda with a straw. “Ever feel like you don’t belong here?”
I don’t answer right away, as I consider that until yesterday I’d never felt out of place. Now I’m not so sure.
“I feel like that sometimes,” Lucy says quietly. “It was why I left Thistle. I didn’t belong anymore. Not without my sister.”
A knot forms in my stomach. “What do you mean? Did something happen to her?”
Lucy doesn’t look up. “She ran away.” I gasp, but she’s quick to explain. “Elise is all right. Just moved on, I guess. But I plan to bring her back. Dad and I . . . we aren’t a family without her.”
“I’m so sorry. Do you know where she is?”
Lucy glances up. “Not yet. She’s laying low. But I’m confident I’ll get her to come home. I’m just going to hang out in Deseo until she comes around.”
“I’m sure she will.” I smile, trying to be encouraging. In truth, I can’t imagine what it’d be like if one of my brothers just decided to run off—not to college, but to start over without us. It must hurt. What if River did that? What would I do?
The server delivers our food, and Lucy and I are quiet as we dig into our enchiladas. Now that I know about her sister, I feel like there’s a bond between us. I feel like I could tell her anything.
“Do . . .” I pause, my cheeks reddening. “Do you know a guy named Harlin?”
Lucy’s fork slips from her fingers and clatters on her plate. She apologizes quickly and picks it up, but from that reaction, I guess she does know him. Now I’m not sure I want to know the answer. If he has a girlfriend—
I stop the thought. Who cares if he has a girlfriend? I do, in fact, have a boyfriend. I need to remember that.
“Yeah, I know Harlin,” she says calmly. “He used to date my sister.”
My stomach sinks. At the bonfire, Harlin told me he wasn’t friends with Lucy. Why did he lie to me? “Is that why your sister left? Did she leave with him?”
Lucy wipes her hands on her napkin and tosses it on top of her plate. “No. She broke his heart. I don’t think he expected her to go away.” She sighs. “Harlin and I aren’t on the best of terms right now.”
“I noticed.”
Lucy laughs and glances around the quiet restaurant. “I should probably let you go,” Lucy says. “I got a job at the movie theater. Don’t want to be late for my first day.”
I take out cash and hold it up for the server. “I got this,” I tell Lucy.
“That’s sweet,” she says, looking touched. “Thank you.”
Once the bill is paid, Lucy and I walk toward my car. As we cross the parking lot, Lucy points toward the bus stop. “You go on ahead,” she says. “I’ll take the bus so I can time out the route. If I like this job, maybe we can barter lattes for movies.”
“I approve of this plan. Good luck.” We say good-bye, and when I get into the sunbaked air of the Jeep, I smile. It’s nice to hang out with someone new once in a while. And the fact that she knows Harlin—it’s weird. And sure, they’re not friends, but she knows about him. I can’t deny that I’m curious to hear what else she has to say when it comes to Harlin.
When I pull up to Ezra’s, I’m surprised to see Soleil’s car parked out front. She was annoyed with me earlier, but it’s not usual for her and Ezra to hang out. At least, not without me. God, not having a phone sucks. I feel completely out of the loop.
I climb the front porch steps, pulling out a stick of gum and popping it into my mouth before knocking. When the door opens, Ezra is in midlaugh.
“Hey, Becks,” he says, leaning against the doorframe. “I thought you forgot about me.”
I look behind him into the house but don’t see Soleil. Ezra is wearing swim trunks, his shoulders red because he never wears sunscreen. He must have been hanging by the pool. “I ended up having lunch with the new girl, Lucy,” I tell him. “Sorry—I should have called before I left the bakery.” I glance back at the car. “Is Soleil here?”
“Yeah,” Ezra says, coming out onto the porch to wrap his arms around my waist. His skin is hot as I run my hands down his back. “She stopped by to see how I was doing after last night.” Ezra kisses my cheek and hugs me close. “After that we decided to swim until you got here.”
Again, I’m struck by how strange that is. Then again, maybe I’m being paranoid. I pull back and kiss Ezra quickly. “I didn’t bring my suit,” I say. “Should I run home and get it?”
Ezra laughs into my hair. “Absolutely not.”
“Not skinny-dipping.”
“Okay, sure.” Ezra grins, and points toward the house. “Soleil’s here anyway. Did you want to say hi?”
“Uh . . .” I look down the hallway to where I know the pool is located. “I’ll see her when I get back.”
Ezra shrugs and gives me a kiss good-bye.
I walk off the porch, sort of dreading coming back. I’m not exactly sure why—but it’s weird. I feel so distant from my life. From Soleil. And from Ezra.
Chapter 5
The light turns red, and I ease on the brake until I stop. The streets are summertime quiet, a lazy pace the farther I get from the beach. A tingling starts in my toes. A warmth that climbs up my legs, over my arms. The heat brightens into pain, and I wince. I glance in my rearview mirror, and then roll through the light to turn on to a side street and park at the curb.
“Ow,” I murmur, resting my head against the steering wheel while I hold my gut. It’s like a cramp, but stronger. I don’t have a phone, so I can’t call my mom. I measure my breaths, hoping it will pass, but the pain only seems to get stronger.
I have to get out of the car. Somehow I know I have to escape. I straighten up and unclick my seat belt. With the movement, my pain seems to ease. I climb out of the car and walk to the sidewalk—drawn forward. I look around the street, searching for an explanation even though I know there isn’t one. What’s happening to me?
My eyes sting with tears as fear begins to make me tremble. I stagger over to the bus stop and drop down on the bench. I put my elbows on my knees and put my head in my hands as my heart pounds. Just then, I feel someone sit down next to me.
A wind blows over me, and I turn sideways and see Miriam Kemper, clutching her purse in her lap. Her face is wrinkled with deep lines, her navy dress baggy on her thin frame. I’ve known Miriam most of my life—she was a volunteer at the library until her husband died six months ago. And then, just as she lifts her watery blue eyes, I’m struck with a vision.
No, not again. Before I can fight it, I’m submerged in Miriam’s life as if I’m there.
Miriam is lying in bed with her husband of forty years. It’s dark, the only light from the small TV on the dresser playing an infomercial. She hears the cough, the thickness—the choking. Samuel has been suffering from
