Summer Girl - A.S. Green Page 0,57

again. This time, after the tenth ring, I hear a female voice on the line. “Hello?”

I’m so startled by the late pickup that I choke on my quick intake of air. The earpiece is filled with the full sound of several people laughing.

“Give it here,” someone says. “Hello?”

“Andrew?” I ask with an exhale. It is Andrew. The sound of his voice wraps me in a warm sense of home. I’m hungry for it. Like, how fast can I pack and get out of here?

“Andrew, it’s me.” I pinch the phone between my cheek and shoulder and pull my hair back into a tight ponytail.

“So you’ve got time to talk to me today.” He’s laughing, but I can tell he’s pissed, too. I’ve been putting him off, not making time for him.

“Sorry about that.”

“I was seriously considering driving all the way up there just to get a moment of your time.”

“No, you weren’t,” says a background voice. It sounds a lot like Jenna Smith, but that can’t be right. She’s never hung out with us. The bad blood between her and Macie is too intense. I mean, I know guys really go for Jenna, but—even though Andrew and Macie can get on each other’s last nerve—he would never betray her like that. He wouldn’t do that to me, either.

“Shut up,” Andrew says, still laughing. “I was, too, going to drive up there.”

“Is that Jenna Smith?” I ask, my voice quiet. Disbelieving.

“What?” he asks, then, “Oh. No. It’s…um…”

He’s lying. That warm, delicious feeling I had before is starting to cool—like gravy left too long in the bowl and skinning over.

“So, are you okay?” he asks.

Not exactly. “I’m good.” I disentangle the cord from around my legs and sit in a kitchen chair. “So who was it who answered the phone?”

“Just some girl. There’s a bunch of us up at Perch Lake today.”

“Sounds fun,” I say, but I’d swear that I’m shrinking. Like Alice after she drinks out of the Drink Me bottle. Alice should have never gone down the rabbit hole. That goes for me, too. Jenna Smith? Is he serious? And now he’s lying to me?

“Yeah. It would be more fun if you were here with us,” Andrew says. I pick up a ballpoint pen and start doodling on my grocery receipt, thinking us. “Us” used to be a much smaller number. Normally, I’d grab on to the kind of lifeline he’s throwing me. I’d grab it gladly and hold on for dear life. But it’s not as comforting as it used to be.

“What are you wearing?” he asks.

“Hmmm?” My mind has already begun to drift. It was just Andrew’s voice I was eager to hear. I don’t really have anything to say.

“Are you wearing Iron Man today?”

Oh. That. “Actually…I’m wearing leather boots and a negligee with tassels.”

He laughs. “And a matching whip, I hope.”

For a split second, things are right between us again. I draw a smiley face on the receipt, then a stick body holding a bull whip. “Got it at the gift shop in town.”

“Sounds about right.” There’s a pause, then he says, “Miss you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Are you lonely?” he asks. I would take solace in his sincere concern for me, but it’s ruined by Jenna’s high-pitched laugh in the background. There’s no mistaking it now.

“No, I— I’m actually having a party tonight.” I roll my eyes toward the ceiling. Why am I so threatened by the fact that he’s hanging out with Jenna Smith that I have to make up some imaginary social life? But I do. I can’t help myself. “Yeah, just a few people over. Nothing big.” Then I add for good measure, “But it should be fun.”

He doesn’t ask me nearly enough questions to make me think I’ve scored any points in the battle of Who’s Having More Fun. Like, he asks exactly zero questions. Well, I’ll be prepared with answers if he ever wonders how my party went.

After we hang up, I make a beeline for the kitchen drawer where I stuck the paper with Calloway’s Duty List and the important local phone numbers. I remember the number for Sully O’Hare’s cottage being written on there. I carry the list with me into the bedroom and throw myself across the bed.

It takes me a second to dial the number and only a few more to hear Bennet’s voice on an answering machine: You have not reached Sully O’Hare. If on the slim chance you didn’t call this number by mistake, and really meant

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