Chapter 6: Dead Fish

I fixed my bikini top and washed my face in the pool house sink.

Then I walked out into the yard with my knees still weak.

Finley came out a full minute after me, and nobody noticed.

The yard was filling up.

Our neighbors stood in clumps on the lawn with paper plates, and somebody's kids were already in the shallow end.

Trent stood at the edge of the patio holding a gift bag and a beer.

He saw me across forty feet of grass and smiled.

He had always had a beautiful smile.

I had dated him for ten months in college.

He stopped answering my texts the week after my twentieth birthday, and I had not seen him since.

My mother used to call him a catch.

"Callie," he said warmly, and held his arms out.

I let him hug me, because thirty people were watching, and because my mother would have wanted me to.

He smelled the same.

"You look amazing," he said into my hair.

"I'm in town for my cousin's wedding. Your mother texted me about the party before she left for Maine."

"That's nice."

"Isn't it?"

Drake was standing by the grill with a spatula in his hand.

He had not moved since Trent came through the gate, and his face was perfectly still.

I looked at him over Trent's shoulder, and for one second I thought: ask me.

Ask me what I want, and I'll tell you.

He looked back.

Then Trent let go of me and turned to the crowd, and the moment broke.

"Happy birthday, Drake!" he called. "Twenty-seven, man. Big one."

"Thanks for coming," Drake said.

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