Rejecting people all day long had to be bad karma, Rory thought as she cut and pasted yet another filmmaker’s name and address into a form rejection on East End Festival letterhead. WE APPRECIATE YOUR INTEREST IN THE EAST END FESTIVAL, BUT DUE TO THE OVERWHELMING AMOUNT OF SUBMISSIONS IN YOUR CATEGORY, WE ARE UNABLE TO ACCEPT YOUR FILM AT THIS TIME.… She wondered how she’d feel if she got one of these letters. Probably the same as she’d felt that morning watching Connor pack his bag for his dad’s house. She’d sat on his bed, watching him open drawers and dump clothes into a gym bag, trying to act as if she hadn’t stayed up most of the night before, wondering if she’d been too nitpicky at dinner.
“What do you guys have planned for the Fourth tomorrow?” she asked, hoping she didn’t sound too interested.
“Something mellow, I’m sure,” Connor said. “It’s not like my dad’s gonna be at the Georgica. I think he’ll have some friends over. Grill some steaks.” He placed a suspiciously hefty pile of T-shirts in the bag. “You and Isabel gonna do something?”
“Me and Isabel and Evan,” she corrected him. It was a cheap shot, bringing up another guy, but she couldn’t help it.
Connor continued to pack his bag. “He seems like a nice guy,” he said. “You’ll have a lot more fun with them.” He glanced at the Swiss army knife on the end table but didn’t pack it.
“Yeah, probably,” she said, feigning a smile.
After her tenth form letter, she started to feel tired. She closed the file, and then closed her eyes, letting herself drift off to sleep, her chin on her hand. Then she smelled the familiar scent of vanilla-and-musk perfume wafting over from somewhere close by.
“Rory, do you have a moment?” she asked.
Rory jerked herself upright. Nina hovered over Rory. She blinked groggily. “Sure, what do you need?”
Nina didn’t seem to notice Rory’s drowsiness. Instead she wore an oddly giddy smile as she stood by Rory’s chair, hand on her narrow hip. “We heard back from the Rules. They RSVP’d yes to the gala.”
“Oh, that’s great,” Rory said, unsure how happy she was supposed to be about this piece of news.
“Between you and me,” Nina said in a conspiratorial voice, leaning closer, “everyone on the fund-raising committee is beside themselves that they’re coming.”
“Oh.” For some reason this made her feel less than excited. “Wonderful.”
“And Andrea?” Nina asked, leaning over toward Amelia’s cubicle.
“You mean Amelia?” Rory heard Amelia say.
“Sorry, Amelia,” Nina said with a bashful smile. “I just wanted you to know that we all voted to include Flower Child in our shorts selection. Congratulations.”
“Really?” Amelia cried. From the other side of the cubicle, it sounded as if she’d almost fallen out of her chair. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, we all loved it,” Nina said, her brown eyes gleaming. “And you can thank Rory for bringing it to our attention. She clearly has good taste.” Then Nina clip-clopped off down the hall.
Amelia sprang up over the cubicle wall. “I can’t believe it,” she said. “That actually happened. Thank you.”
“I didn’t do anything. They obviously liked your movie.”
“Who are the Rules?” Amelia asked, with a skeptical arch of her brow.
“These people I’m staying with,” she said. “My boyfriend’s parents.”
“They sound pretty important.”
“They have a lot of money,” Rory said.
Amelia snorted. “Of course they do.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ve lived here all my life,” Amelia said. “Not in East Hampton—on the North Fork. But whatever. Same diff. And there’s no question—money means everything around here.”
“So you’re saying that’s why they chose your film?” Rory asked.
“Depends. What did you promise them about these people you’re staying with?”
“Nothing,” Rory said. “I didn’t promise them anything.”
Amelia thought for a moment and then waved her hand. “Ah, forget it,” she said. “You’re right. I should be happy. At least one of these dumb internships actually turned into something.” Then she popped out of sight.
Rory turned back toward her computer. She knew that Amelia was probably right. Living with the Rules seemed to give her clout here, in a way she couldn’t have foreseen. But she hadn’t “promised” Nina and Luis a thing. If they wanted to put Amelia’s short in the lineup, that was their choice. Her conscience was clear. And she would make sure it stayed that way.
“I can’t believe he left you alone on the Fourth,” Isabel said the next day as they sat in bumper-to-bumper traffic on Montauk Highway, headed east. “That is so not cool.”
“What am I gonna do?” Rory asked. “Force him to hang out with me?”
Isabel leaned her head out of the window, trying to assess the traffic situation. The smell of cold fried chicken wafted from the backseat, making her stomach grumble. Fee had packed them a three-course picnic dinner for the fireworks that night, but Isabel was hungry enough to break into it now. “Maybe we should have left earlier,” Isabel said. “I think everyone in the world is trying to get to Montauk right now.”
“Do you think there’ll be any spaces left?” Rory asked.
“It’s a beach. It’s not like they can close it off.” Isabel slammed her foot on the accelerator as the car in front of them lurched forward, then slammed her foot on the brake as soon as the car slowed down.
“Has Connor always been like this?” Rory asked. “You know, the perfect son?”
“I made it pretty easy for him,” Isabel said.
“The funny thing is, that’s what I liked about him last summer—his goodness,” Rory said. “I knew that he’d always do the right thing. I could trust that about him.”
“Yeah, but a person’s best quality can be their worst quality,” Isabel said. “You ever notice that? Like with Evan. He’s so sweet, he’s so considerate, he’s so open about how he feels about me.”
“So all those things are his worst qualities?” Rory asked.
Isabel gave Rory a look. “Sometimes I think he’s too open, too nice. It can be a little bit… boring.”
“Maybe you don’t know what it’s like to be with someone who doesn’t play with your head,” Rory said.
“I knew you’d say that,” Isabel said.
“No, I’m listening. What about all that is bad?”
“I saw Mike,” Isabel said bluntly. “At the Ripcurl that night. I didn’t want to tell you, because I was afraid you’d think I’d be into him again. And I’m not.”
“Uh-huh,” Rory said cautiously.
“But there was more… I don’t know, heat in the five minutes I was standing in front of him talking than there is when I’m actually hooking up with Evan.”
“But you’re not into Mike,” Rory said in a deadpan voice.
“No, I’m not. He wanted me to give him a second chance, and I said no.”
Rory looked impressed. “Good for you.”
“But I think about him,” Isabel said. “I’ve been trying not to. But I do.”
The car ahead of them finally began moving again. Isabel lurched forward and turned up Rihanna on the radio. The sun was setting fast, and straight ahead, toward the east, the sky was awash with pinks and lavenders.
“I get it,” Rory said. “There’s no perfect package. You date a guy who’s good to his parents? Then he wants to hang out with them on major holidays instead of with you.”
Isabel laughed. “If only he knew the real reason for the divorce,” she said. “Maybe I should tell him.”
“But didn’t your mom make you promise not to?”
“Forget my mom,” Isabel said. “She’s so caught up in denial it would probably do her good.”
“But what about me?” Rory asked.
“What about you? You’ll just pretend that you didn’t know anything about it.”
“But I don’t think I could do that,” Rory said.
Isabel was quiet. “Fine. I won’t say anything. Even though he deserves to know.”
Rory didn’t know what to say to this. She figured it was best not to say anything and simply pat Isabel’s arm, to let her know that she understood.
By the time they got to the beach, most of the sand was covered with blankets and towels and beach chairs. A few scattered bonfires sent halos of light into the twilight. Dogs loped around on the beach, while their owners roasted marshmallows in the flames. It was unabashedly romantic, and Rory felt an acute sense that she’d be a third wheel around Evan and Isabel tonight. “Looks like this is our best bet,” Rory said, pointing to a patch of sand in the glow of someone’s bonfire.
Isabel lay the blanket down, then placed the shopping bag she’d been carrying in the center of it. She pulled out a bottle of Cristal and two plastic glasses.
“You stole another bottle of champagne from your parents?” Rory asked.
“They have so many they’d never even notice.”
“What about cops?” Rory asked, looking around.
“Oh please,” Isabel said impatiently. She popped open the bottle behind the shopping bag and poured two glasses—one for herself and one for Rory. Then they clinked glasses. “To letting go of expectations,” she said.
“Yeah,” Rory said simply, and brought the glass to her lips. The sweet and tangy drink sizzled on her tongue. She’d never cared for champagne that much, but tonight it tasted simply delicious. One year ago tonight I kissed Connor for the first time, she thought. And now I’m back out here, and he’s hanging with his dad.
“Want some more?” Isabel asked, tipping the golden bottle toward her.
“I think I’m okay,” she said.
Isabel downed her glass, then poured herself another. “I’m gonna try to tell Evan where we are over text,” she said, taking out her phone. “Maybe he’ll bring Jeff. You might like him,” she said, winking.
“Things aren’t that dire yet,” Rory said.
They opened the cardboard picnic box that Fee had packed and tore into the fried chicken and homemade coleslaw. Somewhere in the distance someone was playing Jack Johnson on a boom box. Rory felt a pleasant mellowness come over her. Even if things were hard with Connor, she was damn lucky to be here. And at least she had an amazing friend in Isabel.
As it got darker, Isabel continued to check her phone. “No text back,” she said. “Maybe I’ll get up and do a quick recon, see if he’s here. I’ll be back in a minute.”
“Okay.” Rory lay on her back on the blanket and stared up at the sky. It suddenly seemed obvious, lying there with the canopy of stars above her, that things with Connor had changed, and not for the better. We probably need to break up, she thought, and a deep sadness welled up in her chest. Things had been so good between them for the entire school year. They’d survived being three thousand miles apart. And now, after a few weeks of being in the same house together, they couldn’t make it work. How pathetic was that?
“Hey,” said a familiar voice. “Are you having a moment? Or can I join you?”
She sat up on her forearms as Evan crouched down in front of her.
“You looked like you were communing with the heavens or something,” he said. “Or maybe you were about to fall asleep, I couldn’t tell.”
“Hi,” she said. “Isabel went to look for you.”
“Oh yeah? I walked around this whole beach looking for her,” he said. He sat down a few inches from her on the blanket. “I figure if I stay put, at least one of us has a fighting shot.” He wore a hoodie that was the same olive green as his eyes and dark jeans that made his long legs look even longer.
“You want some food? We have a ton here.”
“Nah, I’m good. Had the shrimp diavolo at work.” He rubbed his stomach. “I think Bill is secretly trying to poison us. Is Connor…”
“At his dad’s house,” Rory supplied.
“Right,” Evan said. “He seems like a cool guy.”
“Yeah, he is,” she said. She stared out at the waves. It was dark enough now that she could barely see them. “He is a cool guy,” she repeated, as if willing herself to believe it.
“But…” Evan said.
Rory turned to look at him.
“It sounds like there was a but at the end of that sentence,” Evan clarified.
“I just don’t know if we’re cool together. You know what I mean?” It was a relief to say this out loud, even to her friend’s boyfriend. “It’s probably my fault. I probably screwed it up somehow.”
“Why do you say that?”
She shrugged. “If I tell you something, will you promise not to laugh?”
“I promise.”
“He’s my first boyfriend,” she said. “I’ve never been in a relationship before.” She dug her bare feet into the still-warm sand, holding her breath for his response.
“Can I tell you something, if you promise not to laugh?” he said.
“Okay.” She gave him a sidelong glance, and in the light of the bonfire his eyes glowed.
“I didn’t have my first girlfriend until freshman year of college.”
“What? You didn’t have a girlfriend at all?”
“Well, I thought I had girlfriends, but they all turned out to be dating other people on closer inspection. You know, they hadn’t gotten the memo that we were actually dating. So it was all a little one-sided.”
She laughed, and for a moment her head was so crowded and jumbly that it was hard to process a thought. When one finally came it was so direct and so certain that it made her catch her breath: I like him. I like Isabel’s boyfriend. I definitely, absolutely, no-holds-barred like him.
“Well, I won’t tell your secret, if you won’t tell mine,” she said playfully.
Evan’s eyes were fixed on her in the flickering light from the bonfire. “I won’t,” he said, and something unsaid seemed to pass between them. It was probably ridiculous to even consider, but she wondered if Evan might like her, too.
“Hey, guys.” Isabel plopped down on the blanket. “So you made it,” she said to Evan, leaning over to give him a hug. “I figured you had to be here. I must have schlepped up and down the entire beach.”
“Hey, beautiful,” Evan said.
Rory looked away as they kissed. The first firework exploded above them, lighting up the night sky in whites, blues, and reds.
Time to get ahold of yourself, she thought. You don’t really like him. You’re just lonely and bored.
But if that’s all it was, just being lonely and bored, she thought, it wouldn’t feel this bad to hear them kiss.