The Harbor Club was the country club that Trip and his family belonged to.
Trip had belonged his whole life.
His daddy had belonged his whole life.
His granddaddy had belonged his whole life.
And so on and so on—all the way back to the very first Something-Something Hedgeclipper caveman, I guess. I was a little nervous walking in. I’d never been in any kind of country club before.
“Are we allowed to come in with our school uniforms?” I whispered.
“Of course,” Trip said. But I noticed that his tie wasn’t rumply anymore and his shirt was tucked in. “I don’t see my mom anywhere yet. Do you want to sit and have a soda or something?”
“Um.” I couldn’t imagine how much money a soda would cost in a place like this, and I felt bad if Trip was going to keep treating me all the time. “Maybe just water. Thanks.”
We walked into this nice patio area. He ordered us these drinks that were half iced tea and half lemonade. A lot like sweet tea back home, but a little more tart. They were cold and delicious and had really pretty lemon slices and mint stuck in them. I could just imagine DiDi slicing the lemons and smiling while she balanced them on the edge of a glass for her imaginary cooking show.
Then Trip started talking.
About growing up in this town.
How it felt like everyone was the same.
How he couldn’t wait to finish middle school. And high school. And go somewhere for college that was far, far away. And big. And different. But he was scared of that, too.
When he was done, he looked up and pushed the hair out of his face. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“No—no—it’s fine.” I could hardly breathe. I didn’t want anything to break the spell. “Trip, you can tell me any—”
“Mom!” Trip jumped up and kissed a tall woman in a white tennis dress. “Mom, hi. This is G—I mean, I’d like you to meet my friend Leia Barnes.”
Trip’s mom put a cool hand in mine. “Hello, Leia, how nice to meet you.” She was probably the prettiest grown-up lady I’d ever seen in my life.
I forced myself to smile big, wishing Trip and I could have kept talking and talking. “Hi, Mrs. Davis, it’s really nice to meet you, too. Thank you for having me to your house.”
“Oh, it’s our pleasure.”
“Trip and, well, just everybody has been so extra welcoming since we moved here.”
“From the South, I assume. Your accent is charming. Where exactly did you move from?”
For some reason, the way Trip suddenly stopped looking at me and started playing with the tablecloth was making alarms go off in my head. But I wasn’t sure why. Maybe I didn’t have to talk about the trailer park or Say It Like It Is about everything. “Um, South Carolina, ma’am. But we love it here and I am just thankful and happy we moved.”
Then Trip smiled.
His mom smiled, too.
But I had a feeling she was going to wait and decide about me later.