Page 36 of The Edge of Summer
“I don’t know… Do you have aspecial someoneyou haven’t told me about?”
“Okay, one,” she says, holding up a manicured finger. Her nails are oval-shaped and painted a light pink—her favourite colour. “You sound like my grandma. Two, no, I don’t. There aren’t exactly a lot of guys who arespecial someonematerial on the island. I went to high school with just about all of them and they might as well still go there for all that they’ve matured.”
“What aboutoffthe island?”
She blinks, looking as if the thought of dating somewhere other than Kip Island hasn’t even crossed her mind. Eventually, she shakes her head. “I don’t want to leave. I mean, I’ve got Dockside, and my parents always need help with one thing or another.”
“Do you really not want to? Or do you just think that you can’t?”
Not that I want her moving away from me after I just found her, but if that was something she wanted, I would support her one hundred percent. From the expression on her face, though, I can tell that I’ve struck a nerve.
She sucks in a breath and then pastes on a grin. “What I need is one of my book boyfriends to show up on the island, small town romance style, and then all my problems would be solved.”
Alright, so we’re deflecting with jokes. I can take a hint. I’m not exactly in a position to argue when I’m doing my best to evade answering hard questions myself.
“If you could pick any set of tropes, whatever those are, what would they be?”
Clara looks excited, as if she has been preparing all her life to answer this question. “Small town romance, obviously.”
I roll my eyes with a smile. “Obviously.”
“I love reading enemies to lovers. The tension is always off the charts, so I think that would be fun. Bonus points if it’s spicy.”
I arch a brow. “Enemies? I couldn’t see you being enemies with anyone. You’re too nice.”
She fluffs her hair. “That’s what I want you to think. Everyone in this town sees me as sweet little Clara. But if you wrong me or someone I love, all bets are off.”
I chuckle. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”
We leave the uncomfortable topics behind and delve into much more important matters: town gossip. Back in Victoria, we hardly knew our next door neighbours, let alone most of the city. Here on the island, unless you’re a tourist, you can’t really get away with anything. Even then, it’s hard toevade notice. I sure didn’t miss the looks that I received when I first arrived. Now that I’ve lived here a while, I’ve become old news and I can enjoy the gossip mill for what it is.
Most of Kip Island’s gossip is funnelled through Maria, one of the parents in charge of the PTA at the elementary school. I’m not sure where she gets it all from, but she disseminates news faster than the newspaper, the Island Chronicles.
“Oh!” Clara says a while later. She plucks her phone off the coffee table and starts tapping away. “Look at this picture Hallie sent me. The lucky bitch got to visit Paris when her nanny family took her to freakingFrancewith them!”
I chuckle. “Jealous?”
“Only a little,” she admits. “France is number one on my travel bucket list.”
As I look at the photo of the Eiffel Tower all lit up at night, the front door swings open. Parker walks in, his head down and his earbuds in. Par for the course these days.
“Hey!” I call. I wave a hand in his direction, but he swiftly ignores me. “Parker.”
Without sparing me a glance, he grabs an apple from the fridge and then trudges up the stairs. I slump back on the couch, blowing out a frustrated breath. And when my eyes land on Clara again, my cheeks flame. God, it’s embarrassing that she witnessed that—how utterly inept I am at all this. I can’t even get my own brother to like me enough to acknowledge me.
She offers me a small smile, one tinged with pity. “Want me to make you another drink?”
I thrust my glass toward her. “Yes,please.”
CHAPTER
FOURTEEN
LUKE
Running usedto be nothing more than a game. A bit of tag in the backyard when Clara, Gabe and I were kids. Then it became a competition. Who, between the three of us, could reach an arbitrary finish line first. Although our parents tried their best, we all grew up with a bit of a competitive streak.
Recently, it has become a distraction. When I bury myself up to my eyeballs in the stacks of paperwork on my desk and it’s still not enough to quiet my brain, I run. Most of the time I head out on my own, but sometimes—days like today—Clara or Gabe join me.
