Parker opens the cooler he carried on board from the car. Unsurprisingly, most of the liquid contents are alcoholic.
I opt for seltzer since alcohol sounds like an especially bad idea on a queasy stomach. So does Liam, until Parker comments, “Come on, Stevens. You don’t have to be Mr. Responsible. Tyler is the one sailing us home.”
Parker’s tone is light and joking, not mocking. He’s hoping Liam will drink because it’s a sign he’s having fun and letting loose; he’s not judging Liam for staying sober.
It’s almost worse—the sincerity. I watch Liam deliberate for a second before swapping cans. Watch Parker grin at his friend and Liam match his smile.
And I feel some bizarre urge to say something. To tell Liam he doesn’t need to prove anything to himself—or to anyone else. Instead, I reflect on all the times I’ve done something, simply because it’s what I knew was expected of me.
I was at the top of Alleghany High’s social hierarchy—and I loved it most of the time. It was a part of my life I had total control over, versus the others I didn’t. And once I was there, I did whatever was necessary in order to stay there.
Watching Liam sip a beer I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want, I wish I’d done more of what I wanted than what others expected. I’m being forced to look in a mirror and absorb the reflection.
There are tons of other boats around. Laughter and exclamations drift across the smooth surface of the ocean. We’re in a small inlet—or cove, I’m not sure what the difference is—so the waves are buffered. More of a gentle lapping than the harsh rocking the journey here consisted of, and my stomach is relieved.
Tyler approaches me after he finishes doing whatever it takes to anchor a sailboat. Liam was right earlier—I know nothing about boats. Aside from a cruise I took with my parents in elementary school, this is the extent of my exposure.
“Having fun?”
I mirror the smile he gives me. “Yeah, this is great.”
There’s a quiet scoff nearby that could almost be camouflaged as clearing a throat. The boat is big, but notthatbig. We’re all huddled in the central area, not spread along the deck like we were during the journey.
I’m pretty sure the sound came from Liam, but I don’t look to check. He can judge me for lying to Tyler. He probably thinks it’s an attempt at impressing him.
The truth is, I just don’t care. Admitting I’m seasick will lead to questions I don’t feel like answering—to sympathy and well-meaning suggestions of how to feel better. And it simply doesn’t matter to me—whether Tyler knows I’m not as passionate about boats as he is. Whether he knows anything about me.
It’s not out of character for me, it’s how I’m used to feeling around guys. What I’mnotused to is being honest with them. I was more honest with Liam last night than I’ve ever been withanyoneabout my home life. Even Wes has only gotten small glimpses.
I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve. I bury it beneath layers and layers of emotional Kevlar. People can’t exploit weaknesses they don’t know exist.
But I let Liam in a little last night. Not only that, I opened upfirst.
“Natalie?”
I blink and refocus on Tyler. “What?”
“A bunch of us are going to row to shore to grab some food. There are always tons of food trucks at these things. Wanna come?”
“Uh…” I stall. Truthfully, the prospect of getting off this boat—especially now that it’s stationary—and onto a smaller boat, is an epically unappealing one. But I feel bad about blowing Tyler off, which is surprising. I don’t usually have any issue turning guys down.
I tell myself it’s because he and Tessa are friends, and she’s the one who invited me here. But honestly? I’m worried it has more to do with the green-eyed, brown-haired boy standing a few feet away. I should want Liam to see another guy interested in me. I shouldn’t care it might mean Liam never kisses me again.
Liam Stevens doesn’t chase.
I smile at Tyler, hoping he sees it’s a sincere one. “I think I’d rather stay here, thanks. I’m not really hungry.”
A small splash of disappointment lands on Tyler’s face. But it disappears quickly, like the surface of water returning to flat after a disturbance. “Okay. We’re getting a bunch of stuff for the group if you change your mind later.”
I nod and thank him, holding my smile and not glancing to the left as the rest of the group decides whether to head to shore or stay. It turns into an even divide of boys and girls, with me, Tessa, Audrey, and Layla all staying aboard, and the five guys headed to shore.
They lower the small rowboat into the water. It looks like it could comfortably seat two people, three if you don’t care about personal space. Parker and Liam are the two tallest but, as the only athlete, Liam is undoubtedly the most muscular.
I watch with amusement—and so do the rest of the girls—as they work to one, get the dinghy afloat and alongside the sailboat, and two, decide on a seating arrangement.
“I say we made the right call staying here,” Layla whispers.
Tessa laughs under her breath.