He steps toward her, letting his racquet drop to the ground. He takes her hands. “It’s okay, I promise it’s going to be okay.”
“Is that why you won’t repay Tyler? Because you don’t have the money?”
“No, I told you, it’s not that. He’s just being a jerk. Look at the way he’s treating you.”
“Speaking of which...WhereisTyler?” Connor asks.
“I think he got on the ferry,” I say. “Took the last boat out of here.”
“Sounds like a Taylor Swift song,” Allison says, humming a little. “We took the last boat out before the perfect sto-or-mmm...”
“Should we be recording this?” Simone says.
Allison raises her left shoulder to her ear, then laughs. Maybe someday Allison will take serious situations seriously, but not today.
And she and David are a perfect match because: “I can see it, Alli. A montage, over the sea...” He stands, holding his hands out like a camera. “The storm is on the horizon, and he’s standing on the prow of the boat looking melancholy. Meanwhile, the wedding is in full preparation, quick cuts—”
“Why would you be cross-cutting him with the wedding?” Simone says with disdain. “You should stick to writing.”
David drops his hands. “It was just a suggestion.”
“Are we playing this match or what?” I say.
“Yes!” Fred says emphatically.
I point my racquet at him. “You’re going down, Winter.”
“El, you promised you’d play nice.”
“Sorry, Em!”
I walk back to the baseline and get ready for Fred’s serve.
It has a wicked twist on it that looks like it’s going wide but then spins unpredictably, and it’s hard to prepare for even when you know what’s coming.
I told you tennis was like life.
61I want to make sure that my sarcasm is pulling through here. Yes, right? You get the vibe.
CHAPTER 17
Is My Fear of Heights Going to Come Back to Haunt Me on This Ropes Course?
Lunch is a calorific and boozy affair. There’s a bison burger bar where your burger is cooked to your liking with the toppings of your choice. After my defeat, ugh, at tennis, I treat myself to one with all the fixings—cheese, bacon, caramelized onions, a creamy spicy sauce, and lettuce and tomatoes. It’s so big I have to eat it with a fork, but every bite is worth it.
There’s also a large drink dispenser full of Buffalo Milk, and what the hell? When in Rome, right?
Have you been waiting for me to use that?
I’ve had it in my drafts folder for years.
Anyway, the first couple of sips are disgusting, but it’s alcohol, and it goes down surprisingly easily.
I’m about to have a second when Oliver reminds me that we’re doing a ropes course after lunch. This doesn’t dissuade me, though. Because I’m afraid of heights, and frankly I’d rather be slightly hammered if I’m going to go up above the tree line.
That’s my logic, anyway.
Flawed, I know, in light of recent events.