Broken Hearts, Fences and Other Things to Mend (35 page)

I stood up, feeling incredibly relieved. I had gotten to the re-

ceipt before Hallie had seen it. My cover wouldn’t be blown.

Things were still good with me and Hallie. Feeling like I was now

ready to join the party, I straightened my (Sophie’s) shirt, doing a

last check in the mirror on the door of what looked, from the

crack it was ajar, like Hallie’s closet. I turned away and headed for

the door when I it hit me that I’d seen something in there. I back-

tracked slowly, my eyes resting on what they’d caught a glimpse

of— a fl ash of hot- pink silk.

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I just stood there, frozen, staring into the closet. My heart

wasn’t hammering hard— instead, it seemed like it was going

the other way, slowing down, making me feel like I wasn’t get-

ting enough air. I just stared at the one segment of fabric I could

see, as other items were piled all around it.

Had Hallie stolen my shoes from the pool party? Why would

she have done that?

My brain was spinning with justifi cations— maybe she’d brought

them back for me, to keep them safe. But then why wouldn’t she

have mentioned it? Or given them to me? Why would they still be

in her closet?

And then a thought struck me with such force that it weak-

ened my knees a little. What if Hallie knew who I really was? What

if she’d fi gured it out? And she’d taken the shoes on purpose?

“Hey.” I whipped around to see Hallie standing in the door-

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way, arms folded and eyebrows raised. “You okay?”

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“Fine,” I managed, even though it felt like my throat was too

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tight, and speaking was harder than usual. “I just . . .” I looked

at her, taking in her concerned expression. It wasn’t possible.

Was it?

I looked back to the closet, then away again, trying to bring

some order to my thoughts. My eyes fell on Hallie’s laptop, where

the screensaver was now showing her leaning against some-

one— it looked like a guy, his arm wrapped around her shoulder.

But before his face became visible, Hallie crossed to the laptop

and closed the screen, tucking it under her arm.

“I came up to get this,” she said. “Josh has some crazy idea

about projecting movies against the house.” She looked at me

closely. “Is everything all right?”

“I . . .” I looked back into the closet. “I just . . .” I didn’t want to

say anything about my suspicions. Because what if I was wrong?

But— and this was even worse— what if I wasn’t?

“Oh, I wanted to show you this,” Hallie said. She set the lap-

top down on the bed and crossed to the closet. To my shock, she

fl ung the door of the closet wide and reached down for the hot-

pink object I’d been staring at. I held my breath as she lifted a

clutch purse and turned around, showing it to me with a smile.

“What do you think?”

“It’s a bag,” I said, feeling a little wobbly with relief.

“Yes,” Hallie said slowly. “But I meant, what do you think of

it? I was maybe going to carry it to a party on the Fourth. Ward’s

going to be there, and I want everything to be perfect.”

“I think it’s great,” I said, totally meaning it. I gave her a

smile. “Really.” Now that there was an explanation— and a ratio-

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nal one— I felt stupid that I would have thought anything else.

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And really, what did it say about me that I so easily leapt to these

conclusions? Just because I had behaved badly, I assumed Hallie

would do the same? When she hadn’t been anything but nice to

me this whole summer.

“Yeah,” she said with a smile, turning it over in her hands. “I

think it’ll go.” She tossed the clutch back into the closet, then

picked up her computer. “Come on,” she said, nudging me toward

the doorway. “The party awaits.”

I followed her down the hallway, my relief over the fact that

Hallie hadn’t found out the truth and extracted footwear re-

venge becoming replaced by ner vous ness over seeing Josh again.

Hallie led me across the foyer and into the kitchen, which

was all gleaming surfaces and new- looking appliances. We went

out a side door, and I saw there was a wide deck, with a table cov-

ered with drinks and bowls of snacks. There were steps that led

directly down to the beach, and I could see, at the water’s edge, a

ring of stones surrounding a pile of sticks— what would become

the bonfi re.

There weren’t very many people yet, and I remembered what

Hallie had said about keeping it small. There were a handful of

people I recognized from the pool party hanging out on the deck,

and another small group standing around by the water. I was

relieved to see that, this time at least, I was dressed appropri-

ately for the occasion.

Hallie’s phone beeped with a text and she looked down at it.

“I’ve got to get the door,” she said, heading back toward the

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kitchen. “But make yourself at home! Help yourself to the food!”

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I nodded and made my way to the refreshments, looking

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around for Josh while trying not to be obvious about it. I pulled a

Diet Coke out of a cooler and had just popped the top when I

heard a voice behind me say, “Hey.”

It was Josh’s voice, and I felt myself smile as I heard it, my

pulse racing with a mixture of excitement and nerves. I turned

around and there he was, looking somehow even cuter after an

absence of four days, his hair tousled and a faint sunburn across

his nose. “Hi,” I said. Now that he was in front of me and not just

theoretical, I felt my anxiety fade. What had I been so ner vous

about? This was
Josh
. I’d seen him with a pillow crease across his

face, wearing meerkat sweatpants.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, and for some reason, the

question didn’t embarrass me.

“Much better,” I said. “All recovered. You?”

“I’m great now,” he said. “But I think you may have perma-

nently prevented me from trying seafood ever again.”

“No!” I protested. “You can’t let one bad experience make you

give up.”

“What are you talking about?” Josh asked. “That’s like, the

whole reason for giving up. You have a bad experience, it’s the

universe’s way of telling you not to eat seafood. And who am I to

go against the universe?”

“That’s not what the universe is saying,” I said with great au-

thority, and Josh threw his head back, laughing.

“Oh, it’s not?” he said with a grin. “Please, Sophie. Enlighten

me.”

“Bridges!” A big guy with a very red face hustled up to Josh. “I

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think we’re all set up down by the water. Just need some
fuego

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and we’ll be in business. I mean, you know, fi re.” He seemed to

notice me then, and turned even redder, taking a step away.

“Sorry, man,” he said. “I didn’t—”

Josh just shook his head in a way that made me think he was

used to this guy saying these kinds of things. “Reid, this is So-

phie,” he said. “Sophie, Reid.”

“Oh, hi,” I said, remembering that on the drive to the restau-

rant, Josh had talked about his closest friend at boarding school.

“Nice to meet you.” Reid was taller than Josh, and big— not ex-

actly fat, but big- boned. He had close- cropped auburn hair and

blue eyes that he seemed to blink a lot.

“You too,” he said, his face still a little red. “I didn’t mean to

interrupt, or anything.”

“You didn’t,” Josh said fi rmly, grabbing Reid, who was con-

tinuing to edge away, by the shoulder and pulling him back to-

ward us. “Reid’s staying with us for a week.”

“Yeah,” Reid said, looking down at the deck. “My internship

didn’t really work out the way that I’d hoped.”

Josh shook his head. “I still don’t understand why you quit.”

“I didn’t
quit,
” Reid said. “I was fi red. For overwhelming in-

competence. Remember?”

“Oh, right,” Josh said, shooting me a small smile.

I smiled back and let out a long breath as Josh and Reid con-

tinued to banter. It was a beautiful night, my secret was safe,

and Josh was looking over at me occasionally and smiling. Sud-

denly, I was in the mood for a party.

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“What about that one?” Josh asked.

“Nope,” I said fi rmly. “Too big.” We hadn’t been talking

with Reid for long before Hallie had broken up our group, pulled

Josh away, and moved the party down to the beach. She was re-

ally running the whole thing, I’d noticed— getting people drinks,

putting out bowls of food, or ga niz ing everything. It was like she

had a vision for the night and was going to see it through. Mostly,

I was just trying not to be in the way, and doing what I could to

help. So when she realized she needed sticks for roasting marsh-

mallows, I volunteered to go look for some, and Josh immediately

said he’d join me. Reid had volunteered too, but after Josh shot

him a look, he sat down and said he’d changed his mind.

Josh and I were walking on the beach, both of us holding

small handfuls of sticks. Josh was grabbing anything made of

wood, not appearing to care if it was a twig or a massive branch.

The sun was starting to set, casting the water and the whole

beach in a pale pinkish- orange glow. I had left my shoes back

at the house, and was walking barefoot on the beach, the sand

warm between my toes.

“Here,” I said, spotting a perfect marshmallow stick up by

the dunes and grabbing it. “This is what we’re looking for.”

“Ah,” Josh said, nodding. “I see what you mean.” He reached

down and picked up what could only fairly be called a twig. “Like

this?” he asked, deadpan.

I laughed, even though I was trying not to. “That can be

yours,” I said, and Josh grinned at me. “Think we have enough?”

“Well, now that we have this one,” Josh said, lofting his twig

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on his palm, “I think we’re all set.”

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We both turned and started walking back toward the house.

As it came into view, I was struck by how cool and modern it was,

and how it stood out from the houses on either side of it. “Your

house really is amazing,” I said.

Josh looked at it for a moment and nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “It

was pretty much my dad’s vision.”

“Did he design it?” I asked, not even thinking about it. But

when Josh stopped walking and turned to me, I realized what I’d

just said. Oh, crap.

“What?” he asked.

“Um,” I said, ner vous ly. I couldn’t believe I’d let myself slip up

like this. Gemma Tucker knew that Mr. Bridges had been an ar-

chitect. But Sophie Curtis would have no idea. “I just . . . didn’t

know if . . .”

“Did Hallie tell you about him?” Josh asked, his brow fur-

rowed, like he was trying to put something together. “She usu-

ally doesn’t bring him up.”

“Well,” I said, drawing out the word, trying to buy myself

time. I was trying to decide if it would be better to say that Hallie

told me and hope Josh wouldn’t bring it up to her, or else just

pretend I had been doing some recreational googling, when Josh

spoke again.

“I’m glad that she can confi de in you,” he said, his voice a little

softer. “That’s sometimes hard for her.” I just nodded, not really

trusting myself to say anything. “He did design this house,” Josh

said, looking at it with a faint smile. “I didn’t know my mom

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saved the plans all these years until she started building.”

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I nodded, trying to think of what I could say— like how sorry

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I was— when Josh started walking again, and I fell into step with

him. We hadn’t gone very far when his hand, the one empty of

sticks, brushed against mine, sending an electrical jolt through

me.

I glanced over at him, but Josh was looking out at the water,

and I fi gured it had probably just been an accident. But we took

a few more steps, and his hand touched mine again, lingering a