“I don’t see why we have to do a double date,” Connor said as they walked down the beach. “It’s not like I want to get buddy-buddy with the guy who’s dating my sister.”
“You don’t have to get buddy-buddy with him; you just have to meet him,” Rory said, braiding her fingers with his. “And he’s really cool.”
Beside them the waves drew in on themselves, built to a crescendo, and then crashed downward, collapsing into foam. Up ahead, Main Beach was starting to thin out now, as the sun grew weaker and the wind began to feel chilly.
“So this was your idea?” Connor asked.
“Uh-huh,” she said breezily.
“Too bad Caleb and Nico and those guys went back to the city,” Connor said. “Maybe Augusta could join?”
She tried to check her irritation. “Maybe not. It’s a double date, you know?” She’d spent plenty of time with Augusta over the past couple of weeks. Besides the endless dinner the first night they’d run into her, she’d come over to make lobster rolls; she’d met them at the beach to hang out on a hot, lazy Sunday; and she’d invited them over to her house in Bridgehampton to play badminton, which they hadn’t done but which still annoyed Rory every time she thought about it.
“You don’t like Augusta that much,” Connor said, his voice hovering between serious and teasing.
“I like her fine,” Rory said. “But why does she have to be part of a double date? Wouldn’t she be a fifth wheel?”
“I don’t think Augusta could be a fifth wheel if she tried.”
“Well, if you want her to come so badly, then invite her.”
“Whoa,” Connor said. “What’s that for?”
Rory looked out at a pack of gulls swooping close to the water. She hadn’t meant that last bit to be said out loud. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s only that you and I aren’t alone that much anymore.”
“But I want to be alone with you,” Connor said. “Wasn’t I just saying that I don’t want to go to this tonight?”
Rory hugged herself against the wind. “Yeah,” she said. “But this is about Isabel. I think your opinion is really important to her. Believe it or not.”
Connor kept his face turned away from her, his eyes on the ocean. It had been like this so many times over the past couple of weeks. They’d be talking about nothing, just having a conversation, and then out of nowhere she’d say something that would annoy him, or he’d say something that would hurt her feelings, and before she knew it she’d be reaching for his hand or trying to engage him with a smile, and he’d be gone, lost within himself, silent and unreachable.
So here was the real truth about relationships, Rory thought. You could be with your boyfriend on a beach at sunset, holding his hand, feeling awe at his handsome profile, and still feel as lonely as you’d ever felt in your life.
Isabel sat in the front seat of Evan’s car, looking out at the bluish twilight as they drove past open fields.
“So Jeff and I are thinking of doing another YouTube piece this weekend,” he said. “Probably me interviewing random people on the street. Jeff will shoot it. But I think I’ll need someone else to be in it, playing my assistant. What about it? Do you want to do it?”
Isabel realized that she’d missed most of the question. “I’m sorry, what’d you say?”
“I said I’m gonna be doing another YouTube piece with Jeff,” Evan said. “And I asked you if you wanted to be in it.”
“Oh, sure,” she said. “That’d be great.”
Evan gave her a curious look. “Is something on your mind? Are you stressed about me meeting your brother?”
“Oh no,” she said. “He’ll love you. And even if he doesn’t… you look sexy with that shirt on.”
Evan looked down at his striped oxford. “Is it baggy enough for you?”
“Totally,” she said. Good save, she thought. She had to stop zoning out, or else it wasn’t going to be a fun dinner. And she needed this to be a fun dinner. For the past ten days, ever since she’d run into Mike at the Ripcurl, her mind had been taken over—commandeered, actually—by thoughts of him. It was starting to get annoying. She’d be at work, putting in her lunch orders, and suddenly she’d remember the electric sensation of Mike’s wrist brushing against her own. Or she’d be telling someone the specials, and she’d get a whiff of his scent that night—beer, salty ocean water, that peppermint bodywash he liked to use. Or she’d be with Evan, and thoughts of being with Mike—taking off his shirt, kissing his neck—would make her completely deaf to what he was saying. And then she’d need to have him repeat things, like she was some kind of airhead. Evan was starting to think she was a little out of it, she could tell. Get it together, she told herself in the car. That guy is old, old news.
It made even less sense that she was thinking so much about Mike because things with Evan were going so well. He’d finally started inviting her over to his house toward the end of June. But it wasn’t her favorite place to hang out. Jeff’s uncle’s guesthouse was more of a storage facility for his uncle’s collection of midcentury modern furniture than a dwelling for guests. One couldn’t walk through the living room without banging a knee into an ottoman or a coffee table. There was almost nowhere to stand, but many, many places to sit. A depressing bare lightbulb hung from the center of the living-room ceiling over the furniture, which was upholstered in green felt or orange fabric. The bathroom was only wide enough for a toilet and a shower, and there was just one real bedroom, which happened to be Evan’s—but only for the month of June.
“We switch off having the bedroom and being out here,” Evan had explained on her first visit, pointing to a tangerine-colored futon with a tangle of blankets and a pillow that lay smack in the middle of the living-room floor.
“Oh,” Isabel had said, scrutinizing the futon. “So this will be where you’ll sleep next month?” Her fantasies of spending alone time with Evan—the kind of alone time she’d spent with Mike in his tiny but private bedroom—instantly trickled away.
“Yeah,” Evan said, kicking the futon. “It’s not so bad. And Jeff is a pretty solid sleeper so it’s not like he’s up and walking around.”
On this particular July evening, however, Jeff was at work, so they’d made themselves at home in the tiny, mildew-smelling back bedroom. They’d just graduated from making out to doing other, more serious things, and as she lay in Evan’s arms, kissing him, he started to take off her shirt. Thoughts of Mike shot back into her brain with a force that made her sit up.
“You okay?” Evan asked.
Isabel hugged her knees, feeling stupid. “I had this boyfriend last summer,” she said, looking down at the chocolate-colored bedspread.
“And?” Evan asked.
He had a different chest than you, she wanted to say. Mike’s chest had been well-muscled, sturdy, smooth. Evan’s was longer and thinner and paler, with a central tuft of chest hair. It wasn’t less attractive than Mike’s. But it was different. “It’s nothing,” she said. “Just my own weirdness.”
“Do I need to break his knees?” Evan asked.
Isabel gave him a bewildered look.
“Man, that sounded macho, didn’t it?” Evan said. She laughed.
Now, in the car, she drummed her nails on the car door and gazed out at a lonely vegetable stand, closed up for the night. It wasn’t Mike’s stand, but it looked just like it. “Would you ever want to try surfing?” she asked.
“I tried it once,” he said, turning onto Montauk Highway. “I thought the skin was gonna get permanently scraped off my ribs from all the paddling. And I have no balance. But if you want to teach me, then I’m more than interested.”
“Good to know,” she sighed.
“Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Connor said from across the table. “My dad wants me to stay over at his place this weekend. Would you have a problem with that?”
Rory looked up from the overpriced menu. Isabel and Evan were late, and the restaurant was strangely empty. “You mean for the Fourth?” she asked. “Sure. Okay. We don’t have plans for it anyway, right?”
“I mean, I think he wanted me to come by myself,” he said. “You know, for some father-son bonding.” Connor grabbed his water and took a quick sip, as if he was eager to look away from her stare.
“So we wouldn’t spend the Fourth together?” she asked.
Connor shrugged. “Is there something that you really wanted to do? I remember last year you stayed at home.”
Yeah, but we hung out together, she thought. It had been the night they’d first kissed. “If that’s what you want,” she said.
“It’s not what I want; it’s what my dad wants,” Connor said.
“Well, exactly.”
Connor smiled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You don’t always have to do what your parents want you to do,” she said. “It’s like you always have to be the good kid. You don’t have to be that way.”
“He’s just asked me to hang out for a couple of nights. Why is it a character flaw if I go?”
“It’s not a character flaw. I’m just pointing something out.”
“I think you’re blowing this out of proportion,” he said, annoyed. “It’s a couple of days.”
Rory twisted her napkin in her lap. “Fine. Go. Have fun.”
He cocked his head and gave her a pained look. “Are you just saying that?”
“No, it’s fine,” she lied. “Go to your dad’s house. You’re right, it’s a couple of days.” She saw Isabel and Evan coming toward them.
“Hey, you guys!” Isabel called, waving.
Quickly Rory waved back, hoping that her fake smile was convincing. Connor turned around and waved, too, as friendly and graciously as possible. Here we go again, she thought. The fake happy couple.
Evan had the same open smile that she’d seen at the pizza place. “Hey, sorry we’re late,” he said. “It’s all Isabel’s fault.” His green eyes twinkled.
“It’s because someone drives like they’re a senior citizen,” Isabel said, socking him in the upper arm.
Evan sat down across from her. Once again, Rory noticed how attractive his eyes were.
“Hey, man, I’m Evan,” Evan said, extending his hand toward Connor.
“Connor,” said Connor. “Isabel’s told me a lot about you.”
“She has?” Evan asked, amused.
“Not too much, don’t worry,” Connor said. “I am the older brother, after all. I get very little info.”
Isabel gave Rory a look. How are you guys doing? it seemed to ask.
Rory gave her a half smile, which she hoped conveyed, Not great.
“So… where are you from again?” Connor asked.
“Wilton, Connecticut.”
“I think I had a guy on my floor at St. Paul’s who was from there,” Connor said.
“St. Paul’s?” Evan asked.
“It’s a boarding school,” Connor said.
“Oh,” Evan said, a bit self-conscious.
“Connor goes to USC,” Isabel pointed out. “He used to be a big swimming star.”
“Are you into sports?” Connor asked.
Evan shook his head. “Not so much. I tried playing basketball, but I found myself getting beaten up a lot.”
Connor was quiet.
“Why does everyone think that because a guy is tall, he has to be amazing at basketball?” Rory asked, breaking the silence.
“Where were you, like, three years ago?” Evan asked. “I could have used you then.”
“Hey, what are you guys doing for the Fourth?” Isabel asked, changing the subject.
Rory glanced at Connor, to see if he was willing to answer.
“I’m spending it at Dad’s,” Connor said.
“You are?” Isabel asked.
“I’m sure you’re invited.”
“No, thanks,” Isabel said abruptly. “Are you going, too?” she asked Rory.
Rory shook her head.
“Dad wants it to be just family, I think,” Connor put in. “At least, that’s how he made it sound.”
Isabel arched an eyebrow. “So Rory’s not invited?”
Rory lowered her eyes to the table. She could feel Evan watching the three of them closely.
“It’s not up to me,” Connor said.
“Then you’re hanging out with us,” Isabel said to Rory, tipping her head to include Evan. “Once we figure out what we’re doing, that is.” Isabel threw a dark, shaming look in Connor’s direction.
“So does everyone know what they want?” Rory asked, eager to move on. As she glanced down at her menu, she made eye contact with Evan. She was startled to find sympathy in his gaze. Then she looked away.
Isabel walked with Evan back to his car, even though she was getting a ride home with Connor and Rory. She’d been distracted for most of the dinner, thinking about Mike, and now she felt disoriented, as if she’d shown up late to a class and had no idea what anyone was talking about. Plus, she’d felt a strange energy whizzing back and forth across the table, as if the four of them had been engaged in an intense bout of doubles Ping-Pong. “Thanks for doing that,” she said. “I think my brother really liked you.”
“You think so?” Evan said. “I couldn’t tell. He seemed a little weird toward your friend, though. Did you pick up on that?”
“Yeah. He seemed… well, they both seemed like they’d been kind of bugged at each other. You didn’t notice that?”
“Not really,” she said.
When they got to his car she stepped closer to him, cuing him to put his arms around her. But he didn’t. In the moonlight his eyes held a new, unfamiliar distance.
“Well, see you tomorrow,” he said. “Sleep tight.”
“I will,” she said. “You, too.”
He rubbed her shoulders and then got into his car. It was hard not to feel a little bit rejected as the door shut. But she knew that she sort of deserved it.
When she got in the backseat of Connor’s car, Rory turned around in the shotgun seat. “Evan’s so cool,” she gushed. “Did he have a good time?”
Isabel slammed the door closed, and Connor started the engine. “Yup,” she said. “He did.”
As they took off in the dark, Isabel clutched the door handle in frustration. Evan was cool, she thought. And if she didn’t get herself together and stop thinking about Mike, she was going to lose him.