“I told you,” Tommy said, looking down at me from his perch on the bow. “I just want to talk.”
“Talk,” I echoed doubtfully.
“Talk,” he repeated. “You do remember, don’t you, that we used to talk quite a bit?”
“That was a long time ago,” I said. I found that it wasn’t very easy to meet his gaze — even though that is an important part of maintaining a businesslike demeanor. I know because I occasionally browse through my parents’ favorite trade publication,Realtor Magazine, and it said so.
ButRealtor Magazine had never had any articles on how the heck you’re supposed to maintain eye contact with a guy whose irises change colors in different lights, and who furthermore looks so good in a pair of jeans that all thoughts of your boyfriend(s) fled at the sight of him.
Seth Turner, I said firmly to myself.You are the girlfriend of Seth Turner, the most popular guy in all of Eastport, besides his big brother. Seth Turner, the guy you had such a crush on all through middle school, and who you were so happy to snag the summer before your freshman year, when he finally looked your way. And okay, maybe he DID turn out to be a sort of boring conversationalist, but you don’t want to break up with him, because what would people think? It is bad enough you are cheating on him with Eric Fluteley. Do not make things even worse.
Except, well, the moonlight was kind of throwing the planes of Tommy’s face into high relief, making him look even handsomer and more mysterious than he had at the beach, when I hadn’t realized who he was.
And the sound of the water lapping against the side of the boat was way romantic.
God, what iswrong with me? I’m worse than Ado Annie, that girl in the musicalOklahoma! who gets so carried away with whatever guy she’s with that she can’t say no.
No, wait. I’m not as bad as she is. Ialways say no….
Just not to kissing.
And Tommy Sullivan looked as if he’d be a lot of fun to kiss….
Oh, God!
“So Liam tells me you’re running for Quahog Princess,” Tommy said, casually breaking in on my thoughts about kissing him.
Quahog Princess! Yes! Concentrate on that. Anything but Tommy Sullivan’s lips.
“Yeah,” I said. “I am.”
Then, because I remembered, all too clearly, having made fun of Quahog Princesses back when Tommy and I used to hang out together, I added quickly, “The money’s really good. Fifteen hundred bucks for first place. Which Sidney will win, of course, but I have a chance at second. The only other candidates are Morgan Castle, and you know she barely even talks. And then there’s Jenna Hicks…” My voice trailed off. I didn’t want to say anything bad about Jenna, who is probably a really nice person. She just never speaks to anyone, so it’s hard to tell.
I needn’t have worried. Tommy said it for me. He’d always had a way of saying what I was thinking but didn’t want to say, for fear of seeming mean, and becoming as unpopular as he always was.
“Jenna still only wear black?” Tommy wanted to know.
“Yeah,” I said. I couldn’t believe he remembered. I mean, it was one thing to remember about me and the Dramamine, considering how much Tommy and I used to hang out together. But it was quite another to remember Jenna Hicks, with whom I was fairly certain Tommy had never hung out. I mean, even Jenna, uncool as she’d always been, had considered Tommy even uncooler than she was. “Her mom is making her enter. I guess she thinks Jenna’ll make some new friends, or something. Ones who aren’t into, you know. Death.”
Not that it was working.
“Still,” I added. “Second place is a thousand dollars.”
Tommy whistled. “That’s some scratch.”
“That’s what I was thinking. I really want to get the new digital Leica—”
“Still doing the photography thing,” he said. It wasn’t a question.
“Yeah,” I said, pushing away a sudden onslaught of memories of all the times he and I had done stories together for theEastport Middle School Eagle, him writing them, me doing the photography — and spending the whole time praying fervently that Sidney didn’t find out how much I actually enjoyed being with someone as fatally uncool as Tommy. Probably it was better, under the circumstances, not to think about that.
Still, I couldn’t help asking, because I was curious, “How about you? Still writing?”
“You’re looking at the former editor in chief,” he said, “of Hoyt Hall Military Academy’s weekly paper,The Masthead.”
“No way!” I cried, forgetting how weird this whole thing was in my excitement for him. I mean, editor in chief…that’s big. “That’s so great, Tommy! Editor in chief?”
Then I thought of something, and my grin faded. “Wait…did you sayformer editor-in-chief?”
He nodded. “I resigned. Something better came along.”
“What could be better than editor in chief?” I asked wonderingly. Then, because it had just hit me, I cried, “Wait…military academy?”
He shrugged again. “No big.” Then — I guess because of my expression, which was still dismayed — he added, “I didn’t hate it, Katie. I mean, it wasn’t like in the movies. For one thing, it was co-ed. Thank God.”
I blinked. I’d forgotten, in those few moments, all about hating him. Instead, I just felt really, really bad.
Although, who I felt worse for — him or me — was debatable.
“Oh, Tommy,” I said. “That’swhere you went after…here?Military school?”
“Iwanted to,” he assured me with a laugh. “I thought I could use some self-defense tips. After what happened back here, and all, before I left.”
So that was what he’d meant when he’d said, back at the restaurant,They can try.
And why he was so cut.
“I’m surprised you came back at all,” I said, staring down at my shoes…my Pumas, because it’s tough being on your feet all night in flip-flops. “I mean…you have to hate it here.”
“Eastport?” Tommy sounded amused. “I don’t hate Eastport. I love Eastport.”
“How can you say that?” I asked, looking up in surprise. “After what those guys did to you?”
“You can love a place while still hating certain things about it,” Tommy said. “You should know all about that.”
I blinked at him. “What are you talking about?”
“Well, look at you. You’re running for Quahog Princess, but you can’t stand quahogs.”
I gasped — though secretly I was relieved all he’d turned out to be referring to was my hatred of quahogs, the bivalve.
“I don’t hate quahogs anymore,” I lied, quickly climbing to my feet.
“Oh, right,” Tommy said with a sarcastic laugh. “You wouldn’t touch a quahog with a ten-foot pole! You always said they tasted like rubber.”
“They’re an acquired taste,” I lied some more, annoyed because he was right…quahogsdo taste like rubber to me. I don’t understand how anybody can stand them, let alone host a town fair in appreciation for them. “And I finally acquired it,” I lied further. Really, it is amazing what a string of lies I can work up, when properly motivated.
“Sure, you did,” Tommy said sarcastically, uncrossing his arms — causing me to notice, as he did so, how large his hands had gotten since I’d last seen him. Our hands used to be exactly the same size.
Now his looked as if they’d be capable of swallowing mine whole.
I dragged my gaze from his hands — wondering, as I did so, why I couldn’t stop thinking about how those big hands would feel on my waist, if Tommy Sullivan happened to reach out and grab me and drag me toward him and start kissing me….
Not that he’d given me any indication that kissing was on the agenda. It was just that with the moonlight and the sound of the water and the fact that he’d gotten so hot and the fact that I’m basically addicted to kissing, it was sort of hard not to think about it.