Page 47 of Rebel Summer

Kind of.

THE SENATOR

Since the DUI, he has dropped his support for my campaign. Which is pretty disappointing because he was a huge donor.

The tone of a text could make or break a conversation. With my friends, I used a plethora of emojis, smiley faces, and exclamation points so as not to confuse the meaning behind my words. My dad needed no such frills. His words came out over text with the same biting edge they’d have if we were speaking in person. So, in response, mine did as well. In my heart of hearts, I knew the Petersons dropping support was probably not completely my fault, but the implication still stung.

ME

Sorry to hear that.

THE SENATOR

An acquaintance of mine and his son, Brent and Lucas Forester, will be coming into town this weekend to meet me and learn about my politics. If they like what I have to say, they could be a huge donor. Bigger than the Petersons.

ME

Okay.

THE SENATOR

I’ll be locked up in meetings with Brent on Saturday night, but I want you to take his son, Lucas, out for dinner and a tour of the island while we’re busy. Can you do that for me?

ME

I was going to work at the garage this weekend.

THE SENATOR

Surely you can spare a few hours for this. I feel like it’s the least you can do.

“Order up, Ivy!” Marco called from behind the industrial stove, jolting me from my phone.

“Be right there,” I called, from my quiet corner of the cafe kitchen.

It was easier to say yes. It wasn’t a big deal. The tour around the island would take thirty minutes, and I had to eat anyway. One hour and then I could get back to work at Dax’s shop.

ME

Fine. I can do that.

THE SENATOR

Great. Be at the house at 6pm. Dress nice. He’s going to rent a golf cart from the resort and pick you up. I don’t want to risk you driving.

I swiped out of his text thread and slid the phone in my pocket, shaking my hands as if to rid myself of his messages.

“You alright, Ivy?” Marco asked as I picked up my serving tray and began loading it with an order of pancakes and fish tacos. His dark eyes searched mine with concern, and I wondered what expression I showed on my face.

With some effort, I schooled the anguish into a smile. “I’m okay. Just tired today.”

According to the look on Marco’s glistening face over a stovetop of burgers, he didn’t believe me. But soon, we were both too engrossed in the lunch rush to give it any more attention. The cafe had needed me for the whole day today, which consequently left me itching to get to Dax’s.

To take out my frustration while sweeping his floors.

Even when Dax texted me later that afternoon, I was still only excited to go…sweep his floors.

DAX

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