Page 10 of If the Summer Lasted Forever
“We’re in Gray Jay,” I say, pausing to take a bite of strawberries, whipped cream, and cake. “He’s been here more than five minutes—he’s already seen it all.”
She raises an eyebrow and presses her lips together, trying to look stern. She’s not very good at it. “I just want you to be friendly to him.”
“I have been friendly.”
“And maybe the two of you could hang out a bit.”
I point my fork at her. “Why is it I get the disturbing impression you’re trying to set me up?”
She gives me an innocent shrug that’s anything but. “He just seems nice, that’s all. And you can’t deny that he’s easy on the eyes.”
“Ew!Mother,” I groan. It’s one thing for me to think it…it’s another for her to say it.
Luckily, Uncle Mark seems to agree with me, and he promptly guides the subject to the fact that my mother cheats at cards.
She argues with him, forgetting all about Landon.
But I don’t.
As promised,Paige arrives at promptly nine in the morning. She takes one look at me and shakes her head. “No, no, no.”
“What?” I look down at my ripped jeans and the T-shirt that was cute a few years ago but is now faded and butter-soft. “Did your dad implement a boating dress code since last year?”
She rolls her eyes, which are lined with just the right amount of eyeliner to make them look exotic. “We’re not going with Dad.”
I set my hands on my hips, refusing to budge as she attempts to push me back into the house. “He’s letting us take out the boat? By ourselves?”
“Sort of.” She finally gives me a hard shove, making me lose my balance. “Come on. You can’t wear that.”
Giving in, I let her drag me to my bedroom. I sit on the bed as she rummages through my closet. I love fashion, I always have, but there’s not a lot to dress up for around here. At some point, I guess I gave up.
“This,” she says, pulling out a cute, loose gray tank top and a pair of shorts.
“It’s not exactly warm yet,” I point out.
“So?”
“Paige.”
“Humor me,” she begs, her eyes bright and hopeful. She only wears the innocent, woodland animal expression on rare occasions.
Suddenly, I have a horrible epiphany.
“You invited Landon, didn’t you?” The words come out as a whispered hiss.
Paige’s eyebrows jump, and a teasing smile plays at her lips. “I thought you weren’t interested in him.”
I look down at my bedspread and smooth a wrinkle in the old-fashioned, floral comforter. “I’m not.”
It’s quiet for three whole seconds, and then she assures me, “I didn’t invite Landon.”
Oh. Well. That’s good.
Twisting my mouth to the side, I study her. It’s obvious she’s up to something, even if she hasn’t involved the boy from Site Twenty-nine. “Then who did you invite?”
She looks down, giving the shirt in her hands a thoughtful look—but she’s really just avoiding eye contact. “Jerrett.”
“Jerrett?” I say, aghast.
