the sadness in his eyes. “I know I wished you luck with your move, but I don’t think I’ve told you how much we’re going to miss you.”
“You’ll still see me.”
At the time I believed it.
“Of course. David’s already been asking if we can head up to my father’s early this year.” The mention of David made me think of his lips against mine, and I was suddenly very aware of the water making its way through my stomach. Mr. Kerrigan looked at his hands. “You know, Kelsey, David is my proudest accomplishment. Knowing that he chooses to spend his time with people like you—good, salt of the earth people with smart heads on their shoulders—it makes me feel like I’ve done something right.” The smile still played on his lips, but an unmistakable mist gathered in his eyes.
I put my glass on the end table next to me and stood up. Mr. Kerrigan did the same, and I wrapped my arms around him in a fierce hug.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He pulled away with a chuckle and held me at arm’s length. “Look at me, getting old and sappy on you when you came here looking for my son.”
I apologized and told him I didn’t want to run off, but it was getting late and I’d need to head home soon.
“Do you know where he went?”
“He said he was going over to Hemlock Lane. A girl named Maggie’s house? Or was it Maddie?”
“Maddie.” The anticipatory butterflies in my chest grew strangely heavy. “I know this is going to sound weird, but can I borrow David’s bike? I sort of need to find him.”
I flew down the hill, pedaling as hard as I could, tempting fate to flip the whole bike over. Shadowed woods and angular houses with small, illuminated square windows blurred alongside me until the road began to widen and the treetops grew sparse and graceful, and I took a left turn onto the cul-de-sac of storybook colonials that composed Maddie’s neighborhood.
I hopped off the bike, trying to get my breathing under control as I propped it against the car-lined curb edging the Clairmonts’ property. My ears were met with the sound of voices coming from the backyard, and the crack of Wiffle balls against plastic bats. I tiptoed slowly through the grass, hesitating at the fence trellis that served as the entrance to Maddie’s yard.
David stood in the middle of the lawn wielding a yellow bat. He picked up a ball from a bucket at his feet, tossed it into the air, and smacked it across the yard, where Eric ran to catch it, one hand in the air. Maddie and Jared Rose lay snuggling on a hammock a few feet away, the same hammock where Maddie and I used to swing lazily and read books and talk about our crushes. Maddie’s older brother sat near a cooler on the patio, handing a beer to someone.
Isabel.
I angled my body behind the trellis posts as feelings warred within me, the desire to run to David and fling my arms around him battling a surging, overwhelming sensation that I didn’t belong there. It was enough to keep me from taking one more step.
David had sought these people out after I pushed him away. He felt comfortable turning to them, these same individuals who had slowly but surely edged me out of their lives.
Or maybe I’d edged them out of mine. I couldn’t really tell anymore. Either way, I was literally very much on the outside looking in.
“Nice!” Eric yelled as David sent a Wiffle ball careening into the yard next door, and Maddie whooped from her spot on the hammock. He’d hit it like he had a serious vendetta against it. I was willing to bet no one else knew why. To any other person, it would’ve looked like a typical group of friends hanging out on a summer night.
As if the girl hiding behind the fence had never been part of their lives at all.
David threw the bat down as Eric ran off to retrieve the ball. Almost instantly, Isabel appeared in front of him, clutching her beer bottle against her abdomen and tentatively holding another out to him like a peace offering. I stood stone-still as David looked from the bottle to her, frowning. Isabel said something I couldn’t hear. David said something back, something clipped and short. She set her beer down on the grass and put her hand on his arm, speaking more pressingly this time,