Page 75 of Hotter in the Hamptons

She crawled under her duvet around 1:00 a.m. with a stomachache but slept like the dead.

In the morning, she forced herself to down some chia seeds (surely that would balance out the cake) and even toyed with the idea of doing a Yoga with Adriene (the “Yoga for Overthinking” episode sounded relevant), though ultimately decided against it. Instead, she lay by the pool, tugging her bikini straps down to avoid getting tan lines, andtook out her phone.

Hey you, she texted Aly. Lola was not a prideful person. She didn’t mind sending the first text after a fight. Besides, they had made up yesterday. Aly had apologized, had even promised to come find her today.

While she waited for a response, she remembered the pile of vintage still sitting in the corner of her room. It was easiernotto think about it, but with Aly not writing back, she couldn’t avoid it.

She forced herself to focus on what she could do with the pieces. She could start wearing it as is, but most of it wasn’t really on trend. Or, she thought, she could do what she used to do best: reimagine the pieces, tailoring them into something new. The thought made her heart race, though she wasn’t sure if she was feeling excitement or dread. Her fingers itched to touch the fabrics, to arrange them into new shapes, but at the same time, she wasn’t sure she still could. What if she’d forgotten everything she knew? What if she didn’t have the right vision anymore? She thought of Colette urging her to do her vintage content again. If someone as chic as Colette wanted Lola to try, that had to mean something.

But more than that, with now nearly a whole day away from Aly, she finally had the brain space to think again. She wondered what it meant that, with Aly around, she couldn’t see her own goals clearly. But this was normal, she told herself. Falling for someone new was distracting for everyone, all-consuming in a way. Wasn’t it?

As if to prove to herself that underneath the layers of obsession and lust, she was still in there somewhere, she pulled up Amazon Prime and ordered a sewing machine, clicking the option for same-day delivery. It wasn’tthatexpensive, and at the end of the summer, she could simply leave it at Giancarlo’s house, a thank-you for letting her stay in his home.

Twenty minutes later, still no response from Aly. It was now noon.

You up?she tried.

Nothing.

Lola tried not to panic. She headed inside and went about her to-do list with one eye on the phone. She painted her nails; she made her bed. She went downstairs and did their dishes from last night, taking one final bite of cake before throwing the last piece out.

Still nothing.

Aly?

An hour went by.

She wandered down the hallway to Ryan’s room and knocked.

“Yeah,” he called, which she took to meancome in.

He was on the floor doing sit-ups when she pushed the door open, his muscles glistening.

“Give me ten,” he said, and she wasn’t sure if he meant minutes, seconds, or reps, but soon enough, he rolled to the side, splayed out on the ground and panting.

Ryan’s room was larger than hers, with space for a king-size bed and a small sofa. It was only fair, she supposed, though she briefly regretted how quickly she’d taken the smaller one.

“You don’t need more abs,” she said.

“Counterpoint: Ialwaysneed more abs,” he said, catching his breath. “What’s up? Why do you look like your dog died?”

“Aly’s not texting me back. Should I walk into the ocean?”

He grimaced. “No suicide today, please. Sometimes people are just slow to text. It happens.” He chugged some water, while Lola paced his bedroom.

“She hates me,” Lola declared. “It’s over.”

“Hey, I have an idea,” he said, arranging himself into cobbler’s pose. “Why don’t you come to dinner with me and Emmett tonight?Somewhere nice. It’ll be a good distraction.”

Lola stopped pacing. “Who the fuck is Emmett?”

He dropped his water bottle, eyebrows in an angry, straight line. “Seriously?”

She racked her brain. She was pretty sure she didn’t know anyone named Emmett.

“Lola, the guy I’ve spentall summerfalling in love with?”

By the way he said it, she knew she had fucked up. She tilted her head to the side, thinking. And came up empty.

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