“Don’t you dare cancel our dinner,” she said.
“I wasn’t going to. I’m getting ready literally right now.”
“Wear something that transitions.”
I paused, suspicious, and straightened to snap the cap back on the oil. “Transitions to what?”
“The bonfire tonight! It’s the big one, Summer. The first of the season. Everyone’s going. I swear you get saltwater in your brain with all the time you spend in the ocean.”
I groaned, sitting on the edge of my bed. “That was what we didfiveyears ago. I can’t stomach Malibu rum in a red solo cup anymore.”
“No arguments! All the cute boys are going to be there.”
“Cute boys?” I placed the oil back on my dresser before moving to the bathroom to rinse it off my hands. While I patted them dry, I continued. “That’s the problem—boys. I’m way too old and irritable for boys.”
“Come on, it’ll be fun. It’s the summer for romance. I need an epic summer love story and the best place to find the right guy is the bonfire.”
She was mistaken. That was the exactwrongplace to find a guy. Been there, done that. Ended in disaster.
“You know I don’t like those.”
“Please? For me? One night of socializing won’t kill you.”
I exhaled, defeated. “Fine. One night. An hour.”
“Yes!” I heard her squeal. “Wear the blue sundress. The one that makes your eyes look like the ocean.”
I had a feeling I was going to regret this, but I would do it for my friend. One night. An hour. I’d survive.
I reached for the blue sundress in my closet. Capri wasn’t wrong about the color. Against my tan skin, it did make my eyes look like the ocean. I twisted my damp hair into a messy bun and let a few strands fall loose around my face. I put on a little mascara and lip gloss and decided it was enough. It was too hot for a full face of makeup.
I slipped on a pair of sandals, grabbed my phone and keys, and called out a quick goodbye to the house on my way out the door. River didn’t look up from her book. My sister Becca waved from the kitchen window where she was doing dishes. Dad and Ocean were still locked in their chess match.
The dinner spot was a five-minute walk from the house at a little beachfront restaurant called The Salty Anchor that had been a Surfside staple since before I was born. The hostess, a girl who was a year behind me in school, led me to a table on the patio where the rest of the girls were already settled with drinks in hand.
My friend group went way back to middle school. We had all been through puberty, breakups, and parent divorces together. Mia, Jess, and Harper along with Capri, my ride-or-die and keeper of all my secrets. The others were my friends, but Capri was my person. She already had a drink for me, which she handed to me as I sat.
“Okay,” Jess said, raising her glass. “To another summer in paradise.”
“To paradise,” we all echoed, clinking glasses.
The conversation flowed the way it always did. We caught up on everything that had happened since we’d last been together, which was only a couple of weeks.
I sipped my margarita and smiled as Mia told a story about some asshole that nearly ran over her foot. The margarita hit quickly, and the laughter bubbled out of me with ease. I was struck with the same thought I had earlier this afternoon during my lessons.
What more did I need in life than this?
The server brought our appetizers—coconut shrimp and calamari that smelled like fried heaven. I grabbed one of the giant shrimp and dipped it in Thai sauce. Flavor exploded in my mouth and I groaned happily.
Harper leaned forward, her eyes wide with excitement. “Ladies, lock in.” She pressed her palms flat against the table. “I heard something crazy this morning at my oceanside Pilates session.”
“Well, go on,” Capri said, already invested. “Stop being such a tease!”
“Do y’all remember the Anderson family?” Harper asked, looking around the table. “I know they haven’t been here in a bit, but do you remember the boys?”
I stopped chewing. The air in my lungs froze mid breath.
“Of course we remember the Andersons,” Mia said. “Everyone knows who they are.”