like that in front of me. “Sorry,” he says. “That was stupid, but I don’t want anything to do with him. When he walked out on my mom, he walked out on us, too.”
“But you still talk to him and stuff?”
Beau shakes his head. “He called and texted for a while, but he eventually stopped when he realized I wasn’t going to answer.”
“When was the last time you heard from him?”
Beau shrugs. He’s trying to play it cool, but I can tell he’s hurting, too. “A few months ago? Maybe Christmas?”
“Whoa.” I start walking again but can’t stop thinking about his dad. How he’s still here, but not there. How unfair it is, that this is happening to my dad, and not his.
We stop talking as we pass the restaurant 790, looking at all the happy couples and families eating and drinking, enjoying the view as if all is right with the world.
“When I get married, I’m going to do everything differently,” Beau says. “I won’t cheat, I won’t leave. I’ll be there for my kids.”
“I’m never getting married,” I tell him.
“Why not?”
I shrug. “My parents never got married; my mom says it’s old-fashioned.”
“Some old-fashioned things are good.”
“Why do you want to get married so bad?” It’s weird for a guy to think about this kind of stuff.
“It’s what you’re supposed to do. Isn’t that the point of everything? To find that one person you belong to.”
“I don’t want to belong to anyone,” I say. “I’m going to be a famous actress and run a food blog in my spare time, which I probably won’t have a lot of.”
“You’re going to be famous?” he asks, mocking me.
I stop and stare, daring him with my eyes to tell me that I can’t. “You don’t believe me?”
“Oh, I believe you.”
“Hey, Beau!” We both look up to see a girl with long blond hair and a tiny bikini waving at him. I never realized a wave could be so overtly sexual before.
Beau smiles and nods in her direction before turning back to me.
“Who’s that?” I ask, wondering if she was one of the girls he’s always posing with on Instagram.
“Why? You jealous?” he asks, bumping my shoulder with his.
“Of her?” I scoff. “Hardly.”
He smiles, clearly thinking he’s right when he couldn’t be more wrong. “Are you still going out with that Romeo?”
“Liam,” I tell him. “And no.”
Not wanting to get upset all over again, I leave Beau and walk down toward the edge of the water, watching the waves wash over my feet before rushing back out to the ocean. I should have worn my bathing suit.
“That guy’s an idiot if he let you go,” Beau says, walking up beside me.
“He never had me,” I tell him. “We just made out a few times, it’s not a big deal.”
“You say that a lot.”
“What?”
“Big deal.”
“Well, some things are, and some things aren’t.”
“And Romeo’s not?”
“Not anymore.”
“So you’re saying I have a chance?” Beau looks over at me with a mischievous smile and I can’t tell if he’s joking. I kick water in his direction to splash him in case he isn’t.
I shake my head. “That could never happen.”
“Why not?” he asks.
“Because you’re my godbrother.”
“That’s not a thing.” His tone is suddenly serious. “If you don’t think I’m attractive, you can just say so.” He strikes a pose, showing off the muscles I’ve already noticed. There’s no denying Beau is cute. “You’re blushing, Whistler.”
He’s never called me by my last name before, but I kind of like it.
“Am not.” I kick the water again before turning to walk back up the beach. I sit down on the sand and brush my feet off, even though they’ll just get sandy again.
Beau falls down beside me, propping himself up on one arm. His white-blond hair is pointing in all directions and I resist the urge to reach over and smooth it down.
“It’s nice having you down here for the whole summer again,” he says.
I don’t agree with him, but I don’t disagree, either. I just sit there, listening to the soundtrack of the beach: waves making contact with the shore, seagulls squawking, children laughing. With the sun shining down on us, I know that most people would call this a perfect day.
It’s definitely perfect for the cute little girl walking past us with her dad. Her blond hair is tied in uneven pigtails that her dad probably did. I can relate to that.
I watch as the girl grabs her dad’s hand, dragging him toward the water for an