Page 13 of Mr. July

I drove her to the airport and waved until she disappeared. With her gone, the cottage felt lonely for the first time. My eyes fell to her gift. The one I didn’t glance at. “Dolphins,” I muttered.

I opened the cabinet above the fridge, chucking the entire box inside. What I should have done was burn it.

Three

Worst Christmas ever…

Wade:I can’t make it to see you. Sorry.

My brows furrowed as I read his text. Gran had worked hard making a nice Christmas dinner. I splurged on my gift for him, a soft angora sweater from a clothing store I doubted I’d ever shop in even after I land a decent job.

Me:What? Is everything okay? I have your present.

Wade:I’m not sure how to tell you this… but I think we should break up.

My head tipped back as if I’d been slapped. Instead of texting him back, I hit call. But it went straight to voicemail.Coward.

Hands shaking, trying not to cry, my eyes focused on the cold, gray Christmas day. The one I was supposed to be spending with my boyfriend of almost two years.

Me:This is really crappy of you. On Christmas? Not even in person? Can you at least respect me enough to call, so we can talk?

Silence.

Tears welled up now, threatening to spill. I counted to five, took deep breaths. The smell of Gran’s turkey and stuffing wafted in the air from under the closed door. For some reason this made the tears slip and fall. I mean I knew things with Wade weren’t right for some time, but dumping me on Christmas? Via text?Shameless.How am I going to face him on campus after the holidays? We were inseparable. Our tiny community college barely had nine hundred students living in the two dorms. This was going to be worse than high school. Especially since that viper Sierra has had her eyes on Wade since Sophomore year. She was always flirting with him. Giving him bedroom eyes with her falsies. He’d turn red in the face while telling me I was his only girl. The sick feeling in my gut, said something else.

Last fall, when I was away visiting Gran, pics of the two of them were all over Instagram the night of the harvest party. Wade swore nothing happened between them while Sierra’s smirked at me ever since.

I needed air.

“Ryan? Can you help set the table?” Gran called from the kitchen. She knew no one else would get off their butts to help. They were too busy toasting my stepsister and her new fiancé.

“I’ll be back in five. Just need to run out…,”

I didn’t want Gran or anyone to see me crestfallen and completely gobsmacked. Not yet. Sighing, I pushed my feet into my winter boots, put on my thick puffer coat, some gloves and went outside. I didn’t want my family to see me cry. Especially my stepsister, Kendall. She was on fiancé number three in three years and showed up last night with a rock so heavy she’d sink into the Atlantic if she wore it in.

Through my tears, the string lights blurred. The smoke of burning Yuletide logs filled the crisp winter air. I’d never been a romantic but being dumped on the holidays felt like a double punch. I fished my phone out from deep within my pocket opening Instagram.

What a mistake.

#Merry Christmas #NaugtiestElfContestWinner,he had typed under a pic of him and Sierra with their lips fused together while under the mistletoe.

“I knew it!” Wade was supposed to be in Charleston with his fancy and fine family. Not cheating on me with the campus she-devil.

The pain of it cut through me sharper than the winter wind. Right there in the midst of twinkling lights, surrounded by homes with curling chimney smoke, I made a Christmas wish. More like a vow that next year would be different. By this time next year at exactly… I checked my watch… 2:03—I’d be over Wade and in Nags Head at the research program. Well on my way to rescuing captive dolphins. Pods of them.

It’s my passion.

But there’s only two spots available for the coveted Environmental Science Marine Program Research Unit in Nags Head. Only candidates with stellar grades and personal references from their professors are considered.

Wade and I were supposed to work on our applications over break after spending so many nights planning our future. Dreaming about living on research vessels—saving the oceans one by one.

Sierra.

My short nails dug into my palm. She’s everything that made me feel… well less. I’m tall with an athletic build, medium brown hair, and toffee-colored eyes.

When I met my best friend Kell, she clucked her tongue with a hand cocked on her hip informing me I had as much style sense as her great Uncle Herbert who grew up on a cotton farm.

I didn’t have the means or the desire for designer dresses and handbags. I’m an ocean girl. Give me the sand and salt in my hair, the sun on my face and a pair of decent flip flops and I’m good. The girls on campus went apocalyptic when Wade and I became a thing. He was the golden boy on campus. Not athletic but cultured. Dressed well. Came from money. Big money and went for the girl from Jersey in Skechers and faded jeans.

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