Page 106 of The Comeback Summer

“You’re out here because Lou scared you into it.”

Scott shivers beside me. “I’ll do anything that woman tells me to do.”

“Same,” I agree.

Hannah’s still floating peacefully with her eyes closed, almost like she’s asleep.

“So, what happened with your boy toy?” Scott asks.

The question catches me so off guard I sit up, forgetting I’m in the middle of Lake Michigan, in water that’s at least four feet deep. It takes a second to get my feet underneath me, and when I do, I give Scott a death glare.

“I don’t have a boy toy,” I insist.

“That cute, nerdy guy who came to the office,” Scott says. “He was definitely into you—and don’t tell me the feeling isn’t mutual.”

“Adam?” I ask, as if there could be anyone else. “He’s a client. Apayingclient, not even a pro bono one.”

“Pro-boner, maybe...” Scott mutters. It’s loud enough to catch Hannah’s attention.

She props herself up, looking at me with surprise. I haven’t told her anything about the event a few nights ago, other than it went well.

“I—you don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, making my way back to the beach. The resistance of the water is no joke, and I’m tired of everything being such a struggle.

“Libby,” Hannah says, coming after me.

“I want to go home,” I tell her.

“Wait,” she says, catching up to me. “Sit and dry off.”

I don’t have the energy to argue, so I let her lead me back toward our towels to sit.

“Talk to me,” Hannah says as she laces her fingers between mine, giving my hand a squeeze—the sign I usually give her to let her know she’s not alone. My heart constricts and I look up at the clear blue sky, hoping gravity will suck my tears back into their ducts. No such luck.

Salty tears slide down my cheeks, and I hope Hannahthinks they’re sweat or remnants of lake water. I’m the older sister; I’m supposed to be the strong one.

She leans her head on my shoulder, and we both stare out at the sun glistening on the water. The lapping waves of Lake Michigan might as well be the ocean. I wonder if another set of sisters is sitting on a similar shoreline on the other side, staring out at the opposite view.

It’s quiet in that city sort of way, where the wind is loud, carrying with it sounds of people laughing, music playing, traffic humming. A kind of white noise that lets you know you’re not alone.

Scott sits on my other side—on my towel, even though his is just inches away—and the moment shifts.

“How are things going with Adam?” Hannah asks, her voice cautious.

“They’re not,” I tell her.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “It’s his loss.”

An image of Adam flashes through my mind, his smile fading, his eyes growing wide and confused. His arms reaching for me as I turned away.

“So... if we were to rank this guy as Great or Not Great, where would he fall?” Scott asks. I swear, he never misses an opportunity to remind us of his quasi fame.

“He’s great,” Hannah says, answering for me.

“He really is,” I tell them. “But I wasn’t. I was Not Great.”

I feel Hannah’s eyes on me, but I keep mine focused on the whitecaps of the waves. For some reason, it seems important for her to know Adam wasn’t like the others. All the guys I’ve crushed on who turned down my awkward advances.

“Did something happen?” she asks.

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