Page 94 of Even in the Dark

I laugh. “Invested?”

“Yeah. That look you were throwing Broody Boy and his fan club a second ago was totally invested… More than a ‘friend’ kind of invested.” He presses against my forehead with the heel of his palm. “You”—he presses again lightly—“have caught feels for this guy.”

Am I really that easy to read? Because both he and Xave seem to be able to pick up on the subtlest of my moods lately.

“I am ‘invested’ because we’re friends.” I remove his hand from my forehead. “And he’s got a lot he’s dealing with right now, so I’m extra aware of him.”

But a friend wouldn’t be this hurt that he didn’t text about a change of plans for a Friday night party. A friend wouldn’t be this invested inanyof his plans.

Seb glances back at the scene playing out by the boulder. “Yeah, definitely looks like he’s dealing with a few things right now.” He grins playfully. “Like a bunch of hot girls fawning over him.”

I roll my eyes, and he continues. “But you wouldn’t care about that, right?” His eyebrow lifts. “Because you’re just interested in him as afriend.”

“You sound like a middle school gossip girl right now.”

He laughs. “And you’re reflecting.”

Pretty sure he means deflecting. He mixes up words sometimes since the incident that landed him in hospital.

“Okay… you know what?” I slow my pace and turn towards him. “Maybe I am catching feels for him… but he’s got a lot he’s dealing with. Pretty sure ‘catching feels’ is not even on his radar right now.”

Seb shrugs. “So? You got a timeline on when you need to slide into your next relationship or something?”

I don’t answer because it wasn’t really a question. He’s making a point, and it isn’t a bad one.

We walk again. Change the subject to other stuff. I almost tell him about the texts from Carter, but I don’t want to bring the mood down right before this thing he planned for Caroline. The easy conversation continues once we get to the Shack and as we work together, setting stuff up. I’ve missed this easy vibe with Seb. Our conversations when I visited him in hospital felt off. I was so focused on keeping things upbeat and surface-level. Seb’s memory has been shot for months now, but when he was in hospital, it was even more flimsy, just like his attention span.

Twenty minutes later, we hug again and I leave, so that I’m not in the shack with him when Caroline shows up, which woulddefinitely ruin his sweet gesture. Just as I start making my way back down the path, I hear someone call out.

"Yo! Carter Beaumont! I didn’t know you were gonna be here tonight, man!”

And I halt dead in my tracks.

Chapter Thirty-One

Scarlett

Ifeel the punch I drank at the dance rolling in my stomach like the whitecaps against the shore a hundred feet away. Then my instincts kick in and I scramble to the side of the dirt path, closer to the trees, which give me at least a little more cover.

It only takes me a few minutes to spot Carter in the crowd. He’s taller and more built than he was two years ago, but otherwise hasn’t changed that much. Same clean-cut hairstyle, same confident swagger, same slightly crooked smile. The one I thought was so dreamy. Until suddenly it wasn’t.

He’s here with a couple of his friends from out of town that I recognize from that summer. And I’m totally thrown. Carter never shows up at parties in Sandy Haven. Ever. When we had the awkward conversation with him and his mother after everything went down, there was an agreement that he would stay away from me as much as possible. But I guess even terms outlined between civil neighbors in plant-filled sunrooms have a statute of limitations. Whatever the reason, he’s here now.

And I’m stuck.

I can’t leave while Carter’s hanging out around the main beach area. Going down the path puts me in perfect eyesight of anyone on the beach below. A lone beacon above the crowd. And my only other option is to duck back into the Shack and crash Seb’s romantic surprise gesture for his girlfriend. Which, yeah, is not an option. No way I’m doing that. I have to wait Carter out. Make myself scarce until he wanders farther along the beach, or bows out to take a leak, or God…anything.I do not want to talk to him.

I slide up against a wide tree trunk and settle in for a long stretch of Candy Crush. Only I’m barely focusing on the game. My attention keeps straying to the beach every few seconds, tracking Carter’s movements. Then watching Dylan, who is still leaning against the bolder, head ducked, kicking at the sand with the toe of his boot, looking sullen and like he wants to be anywhere but here right now. A sentiment I can totally relate to.

The next time I look over, he glances up at the same time and our eyes connect. He leans forward slightly, his back lifting from the large rock, head tilted. He watches me, turning his head only briefly to offer a curt two or three word response to a question directed at him by one of the girls flocking like disciples. They’re pretending to talk amongst themselves, but clearly focused on him. A couple of weeks ago, I would have thought Dylan didn’t notice, or even care. Now I know he noticed the second they started moving in. And I know their presence makes him uncomfortable and on edge.

Caroline shows up a few minutes later and we talk briefly before she heads into the Shack to find her man. I go back to playing Candy Crush, but not really playing Candy Crush.

During my next scan of the beach, Carter is still in the same spot. So is Dylan. Only now, one of the fawning girls is sidling next to him, leaning in right against his side. I can see his bodytense even from here, then shift so they’re no longer touching. His eyes flick up and lock on mine again. Then he lifts his left fist a few inches. Just enough for me to notice the movement, but no one else, since I’m looking down at him from above. And he raises his thumb, index, and pinky fingers in the universal ‘rock on’ symbol.

He’s giving me the hand gesture version of a sarcastic “yeah, having a bundle of fun over here.”

I laugh and return the gesture. I’m intrigued that he isn’t aware of some of the most basic normal things—like what being grounded means—and yet he somehow knows the hand symbol for ‘rock on’. And I want to know how he came to learn it. Why he knows about some things and is so in the dark about others. These are all the little pieces of him that fascinate me. How he became the person he is now. The way his mind works. Because despite Eli Sampson carving away so many pieces of his existence, Dylan still managed to forge a personality that is uniquely his. Through all the horrors he’s lived through, he still has a sense of humor. Just gave me the rock on symbol, surrounded by a gaggle of girls swooning over him, precisely to show that he sees how ridiculous the whole thing is.

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