Page 43 of High Season
“I didn’t want to come out here this summer,” Blake said. “I wanted to go stay with my dad, in Italy. He just bought a vineyard over there. Me and him were going to get Vespas and drive down the Amalfi Coast. It would have been so cool.”
“Why didn’t you?” Hannah asked.
She felt the shift of Blake’s head tilting beside her, a half shrug.
“Mum said she wanted us to be all together. She and Harrison are at each other’s throats all the time, and she thinks that if we can play happy families for the summer, he might stick around.”
Hannah thought of what Josie said at the pool yesterday. She wondered if Blake already knew.
“She’s so deluded,” he continued, and his words had a hard edge to them. “Harrison doesn’t want me here. He doesn’t give a shit about me and Tamara and Nina. Heespeciallyhates Tamara. And no amount of pretending is going to sort out whatever dysfunctional shit he and my mum have going on.”
He broke off, and the only sound was the gentle slap of waves against the boat.
“Maybe you can do the Amalfi Coast another time,” Hannah said.
“Yeah,” Blake said, brightening slightly. “We’re probably going to do it at the end of summer instead. After Mum’s gone back to London.”
They both fell quiet. If she was still, Hannah could hear the soft in, out sound of his breathing. She could hear the beating of her own heart.
“Hey,” said Blake. “Do you have any plans tonight?”
“Tonight?”
For just a moment, Hannah had been outside of time. She had forgotten that there was a tonight that would come after this. That there would be dinner waiting for her in the microwave at home, evening television, chasing sleep with the memory of this evening keeping her awake. She had forgotten that there was anything outside of her and Blake, this boat, the slow drift of the sea.
Blake sat up.
“We’re going out,” he said. “Me. Tamara. Barnaby. You wanna come?”
And even though Hannah wanted nothing less than to be with Tamara and Barnaby, even though she wanted to stay here until the sky turned black, wanted to stretch this moment until it split at the seams, Hannah nodded.
“Sure,” she said. “Let’s go out.”
Barnaby’s car pulled up outside the dive shop late, after Hannah’s parents had already gone to bed. She had dried her hair, slicked on mascara. She was secretly pleased when she opened the car door to realize that Blake would be sitting in the back with her, Tamara in the passenger seat. Tamara didn’t turn round to look at Hannah as she climbed inside. Across the darkness of the back seat, Blake’s hand slid toward hers. Their fingers intertwined.
They drove into the nearest city, abandoning Barnaby’s car in a no-parking zone.
“It’s not like we can’t afford the fine,” Barnaby said.
He looped his arm around Blake’s shoulder and ruffled his hair. Blake grimaced and pushed him off, but they were laughing.
“Come on,” said Barnaby. “Let’s get fucked up.”
There were drinks. Vodka shots. A casino, where Barnaby put down a thousand euros and just rolled his eyes and laughed when he lost it. More shots. Barnaby, sliding his arm around Tamara’s waist. Tamara pulling a face and slapping his hand away. Cocktails in a rooftop bar where the city seemed to shine, a haze of color and light. A nightclub where the music ignited something in Hannah, sent a thrum of ecstasy down her spine. A round of drinks that Blake paid for with a handful of cash. A bottle of champagne that fizzed through her, that felt like drinking stars.
They moved on to another club that backed onto the beach. Darker, busier, the music unfamiliar. Strobe lights and a heavy bassline. Tamara and Barnaby downing tequilas with salt and lemon. Blake, leaning his head down close to Hannah’s ear, the soft brush of his hair against the side of her face. Saying that it was so hot in here. So loud. Asking if she wanted to go outside.
Blake needed to use the bathroom, so Hannah offered to queue for his jacket at the cloakroom while he went. She stood in line, her arms folded across her chest, a comfortable, easy haze to her vision. The group of girls in front of her shifted forward, and as Hannah followed she felt a breathtaking strike of clarity, as if seeing herself from above. She was here. She was going outside with Blake Drayton, alone. This was it. This was the moment that everything would change.
“You’re still here? Jesus.”
Blake was next to her, slipping his arm around her waist as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Thanks for saving my spot,” he said, quietly, so that he had to lean in close to her ear.
“Anytime,” said Hannah, and she really, truly meant it.
Outside the air was cool. Sweat chilled against Hannah’s skin, and she wrapped her arms around herself, realized that she was shivering.
