Summer Girl - A.S. Green Page 0,91

It’s like a million years since I heard it. He still cares. Even with things all messed up, he still cares. “Yeah, okay.”

“Okay. Bye, D’Arcy.”

“Bye, Bennet.”

There’s a click. I pull the receiver away from my head and stare at it for a second before setting it gently back on the phone. I never said what I called to say. I should have led with it. You were right, smarty-pants. I am so freaking in love with you.

Chapter Forty

Katherine

You’d think after you drunk dial someone that they might call the next day to check up on you. Or at least call to give you shit about it. Bennet does neither. This is why I resolve to plant myself, unapologetically, in his path. We are going to talk. Really talk. He can’t avoid me forever.

For my first attempt, I tie a red scarf around my hair and park my car in town to wait for him to take his mid-morning break. I watch him enter Tremblay’s and decide I’m in desperate need of groceries, too. Yes, this is reprehensible behavior, but I have to start somewhere. Bennet gives me the tiniest flicker of a smile as he passes me in the produce section. Maybe it’s because I’m thumping my fingers suggestively against a melon. Regardless of the reason, he doesn’t stop to talk, but I still call his smile a small victory.

The second day, I take a ferry trip across the lake with Natalie. We actually need to pick up party supplies on the mainland, so it’s totally not obvious and completely innocent.

I wear the same short, lightweight skirt I wore to Turtle Island, in the hopes of reminding him of our time together. On the way back to Little Bear, I lean nonchalantly against the ferry railing where Bennet can’t miss my ass from his perch in the bridge. I’m acting just like Jenna Smith back at school. I might seriously hate myself if it wasn’t just a little fun.

Natalie has been at the stern, talking to someone I don’t know. When she eventually comes to stand by me, she glances up at the bridge. “I take it you and Bennet still haven’t talked.” She’s practically yelling because the ferry’s engines are so loud.

“Nope.”

“And that little skirt lifting in the breeze like that…it’s having no impact on the situation?”

Her question makes my neck prickle with heat. “That obvious?”

“Yep, and I’m sure to more than just me.” She glances up at the bridge again. I don’t want to know what she sees. I call this one a loss (for self-respect points alone).

“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I say, letting out a sigh. “He’s still avoiding me like I’m…brussels sprouts. Like he keeps pushing me around his plate hoping I’ll disappear on my own. How am I supposed to talk to him if he insists on avoiding me?”

Natalie puts her hand on my shoulder and pouts out her lower lip. Her sympathy makes everything worse.

“Have you ever noticed how palpable one person’s absence can be?” I ask, glancing up at the bridge then back to her.

“Sure.” She leans against the side of the ferry. “I mean, I guess.”

I pick chipped paint off the iron railing and flick it onto the deck. “I miss Macie and Andrew. Even my mom. But none of that compares to Bennet. I swear it’s almost like hunger, I’m so empty.”

Natalie raises one eyebrow. I wish I could do that. I smile weakly and try to explain it better. “It’s like Thanksgiving, you know? Like when after the meal you swear you’ll never eat again, but then you wake up the next morning so empty you could chew off your own arm if you don’t eat again soon. Do you know what I mean?”

“No,” she says, “but that’s two food references in a row now. You must be starving, and so am I. How about we go to Paddy’s tonight and figure out how to get you satisfied?” Then she laughs, and that warm, rich sound is the best thing I’ve heard in what seems like a very long time.

Chapter Forty-One

Bennet

I don’t know why I’m doing this. Dinner with Alli? What was I thinking saying yes? First she offers to pick me up at the airport, next thing I know she’s inviting me to dinner. I bet if I took her dancing she’d want to lead.

“We should have gone to New Porte instead of Paddy’s,” she says. “Don’t you get tired of the same old thing?”

I

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