Page 49 of Grace on the Rocks

“He probably doesn’t thinkI’dinvite him now.Tellme the truth,Ryan,” she said, stopping him and grabbing his hand impulsively.Heclosed his eyes for a second like he wished she hadn’t touched him, so she dropped his hand but not the subject. “Didit ruin theWorldCupfor him?”

He shook his head. “Hehad a grand time.Exceptfor the losing part.”

She chuckled.Thatpretty much summed up how the whole family had felt.

“Any regrets?Aboutcancelling it?”

Grace didn’t have to think, though she wasn’t sure why she answered at all. “Thedress.”

He grinned. “Really?”

“It’s weird,Iknow.Iwas never much of a pretty dress kind of girl.Comfortover fashion, right?”

“Exactly howIfeel about pretty dresses.”

She elbowed him in the ribs and he darted sideways, letting her catch his hand again before he got away and sliding his fingers between hers.

For a second, she couldn’t breathe.Whathad they been talking about?

“Were youSssportySpice?”Mr.Beeteased.

Right.Thedress. “Notin the slightest.Itried to be.UpuntilDmoved toFlorida, allIwanted was to keep up with him and the boys.ButIwasn’t fast, andIwasn’t coordinated.Mysoccer coaches probably assumedIwas adopted.Ithink being bad at sports is what made me resent everything girly.Exceptfor some reason that dress.”

He looked at her with a faraway gaze, like he was picturing it based on the description in her book.She’dnever told anyone those bits of her novel were true.Itwas unsettling to realize how much of her he’d figured out.

Pulling her hand out of his,Gracesat down on a nearby rock and took off her shoes.Sherolled up her leggings, allowing her toes to burrow into the soft white sand, grounding her.Shewas here, inScotland, all grown up.Shewasn’t fifteen years old navigating high school politics ahead of her quinceañera.

“I knew exactly whatIwanted my dress to look like from the timeIwas eleven years old.Idrew pictures of it obsessively, the same dress, over and over.Kidsare weird.”

“Do you still have them?Yourdrawings?”

She shook her head. “Partof me wishesI’dput one in the book, butIburned them all whenIturned sixteen.”

He frowned, probably fretting over the carbon emissions of burning so many sheets of paper. “Itwas the inspiration forMaya’sdress?Inyour novel?”

“Absolutely.Ifigured one of us ought to get to wear it, even if she was only fictional.”

That look came over his face again, the one that made her want to hold his hand and never let go.

“I hate you never got to wear it.”

Grace shrugged. “Itwas a lifetime ago.Literallyhalf my life.I’mfine,I’mover it.”Shewasn’t, but fake it ’til you make it, right?

He frowned again, which was more like it.Frowningwas safe. “You’renot though, are you?”

“I want to be.”

He nodded like he understood and offered a hand to help her to her feet.Whenshe took his palm once more, it was warm and strong, and she let go quickly.Thiswas never going to happen.

“I caught my first newt behind that rock,” he said, shoving both hands in his pockets and nodding towards the boulder she’d just been sitting on, which looked very much like any other on the beach.

“What, that exact rock?”

“Obviously.”

“What did you do with it when you caught it?”

A mischievous grin spread across his face.

---