the water?” Jolie asked.
Emily released herself from Hollis’s gaze. “Not a bit.”
“You surf?” he asked.
“Surf. Paddleboard. Swim. Sail.” She fixed her gaze forward. “I love the water.”
“Maybe you haven’t changed,” Hollis said with a gentle smirk.
They arrived at Town Pier and walked toward the dock. Hollis pointed them in the direction of a large, sleek white boat with a red bottom and the name Edna painted on the side in red.
“That’s us,” he said.
“Will we all fit?” Jolie asked.
“It’s a 420 Outrage,” Emily said.
“What’s that mean?”
“It fits twenty.” Emily glanced at Hollis, pleased she’d effectively impressed him with her knowledge. “Your friend owns this boat?”
“It’s like his baby.” Hollis shook his head, but his face read amused.
Jolie took off in the direction of the boat, followed by the rest of the McGuire family. Harper was teasing Hayes about something that sounded like an inside joke while their parents walked hand in hand toward the water.
Emily tried not to fall into sync with Hollis, but it happened, the way it always had when they were kids. She was a year between the two brothers, so she could’ve just as easily had the best friendship with the younger McGuire. But it was the man at her side with whom she’d made a blood pact of lifelong friendship, not to mention the countless spit-shakes, pinkie swears, and even a first kiss, if you could call it that.
She certainly didn’t. She still credited Tommy Wayfair from the ninth grade with that honor. Or the horror, as it were.
She and Hollis were so young it couldn’t be counted—even if she did remember everything about that night in stark detail.
It was late one night after a full day at the beach. They’d had dinner outside in the McGuires’ backyard and Nan had made them a huge pitcher of fresh-squeezed lemonade to quench their thirst after hours in the sun. All four of the kids ate burgers off the grill, laughed, played in the yard, ran back down to the beach, and now, at the end of it all, Hollis and Emily were the only two left outside.
Hayes and Harper had both been called in—Harper went willingly; Hayes protested. “I’m practically as old as Hollis, Ma,” he’d whined.
“Practically as old means not quite as old, young man,” Nan said with a wink. “Hollis, a few more minutes, okay?”
Nan took her reluctant son inside, and Hollis plopped down in the sand, staring out over the ocean, the moon full and bright.
Emily sat down next to him. “Secret, secret.”
Hollis groaned. He hated most of the games she made up, but especially this one. The rules said that once a week, one of them could call “Secret, secret,” and the other had to share something about themselves that nobody knew or answer whatever question the asker wanted to know. They took turns, and that week, Emily got to be the asker.
Hollis hated the game because he hated anything that required him to share feelings. “Boys aren’t into all that talking stuff,” he’d told her the year before when she first explained the rules.
“Then how am I ever going to really know you, Hollis McGuire?” she’d asked.
“You already know plenty,” he’d said, but they both knew it was pointless for him to protest. When Emily made up her mind, she didn’t stop until she got what she wanted.
The night had gone quiet, and Emily thought of all the things they’d shared thanks to this game and its “silly rules” as her friend called them. It’s how she’d learned he didn’t like coming to Nantucket for a long time because the kids on the beach called him “white trash” and “Holly Hobbie.” He didn’t bother to tell them Hollis was a family name and one he was proud to have.
It’s how he learned that sometimes, late at night, she wondered if her mother would ever tell her who her father was, that she was afraid of never knowing him, of never having a real family. It’s how they both learned they didn’t have many friends once they left Nantucket.
They might have been from two different worlds, but in those moments, Emily Ackerman and Hollis McGuire weren’t that different at all.
“I don’t have a secret,” Hollis had told her after she announced it was time to play again.
“Everyone has secrets,” Emily said.
“You already know all of mine.” Hollis pulled his knees closer to his chest. “You even know about the time I shoplifted that package of Skittles and my dad made me take