To avoid them, I’m forced to glare directly into the sun. I shouldn’t be upset. Renner isn’t mine. I have exactly zero claim to him. Not that I’d want to anyway. Because he’s a turd. And yet, I can’t shake this intense jealousy at the sight of Renner’s hands all over Andie’s back. The same hands that were all over me on the roof. The same hands that were all over me when we were thirty.
Unable to stomach their lotion massage, I take off down the beach, bypassing a crew of kids guzzling extra-large thermoses.
It doesn’t take long before I pick up the scent of hot dogs a ways down the beach. It’s the barbecue station, manned by Principal Proulx, who’s sweating profusely through his dandelion-yellow T-shirt. My stomach grumbles as I take my place in line.
The line moves painfully slow, mostly because Principal Proulx is flirting with Nurse Ryerson, and she’s responsible for the condiment table.
Just when I move close in line, a familiar voice sounds behind me. “Hey, man. Mind if I cut in front of you? I just need to talk to Char real quick.”
I spin around. It’s Renner.
He’s somehow managed to charm Tommy Dixon, a goth dude wearing a thick black hoodie at the beach. He doesn’t typically speak to anyone if he can help it, except Renner, apparently. I watch in awe as Renner compliments one of his paintings displayed in the hallway at school. Tommy seems flattered and explains that it’s an abstract representation of his mortality before eagerly waving him ahead.
Renner flashes me his megawatt smile, as though everything is peachy keen. “Hey.”
“You can’t just cut in line,” I whisper.
“Tommy’s cool with it,” he says, looking back. Tommy winks at Renner and gives me an army salute. （Tommy has never acknowledged my existence before.） Renner turns back around, eyes narrowed. “I need to talk to you.”
I let out a groan. I already know how this will go. He’s going to explain he was already taking Andie to prom before we kissed. He’s going to deny kissing me with nefarious intent. I’m not going to believe him. The end.
I move up in line, arms crossed. “I don’t think there’s anything left to say.”
He follows a step behind me. “Seriously, Char? You just stormed off the roof last night. You didn’t give me a chance to explain,” he says, not bothering to lower his voice.
“Why do you have to talk so loud?” I ask, irritated that the entire line is now privy to our business. “And you don’t need to explain. Why don’t you go continue lotioning your girlfriend and leave me—”
Before I have the chance to finish, my gaze is pulled to a familiar face. It’s Clay. He’s heading toward the barbecue line, tattered flip-flops in hand. His hair is blowing in the breeze as he squints into the sun. He’s tall, lean, one of those guys with natural abs, unlike Renner, who works for his chiseled gym bod and flaunts it at any opportunity.
Clay gives me Cole Sprouse vibes, the type who’s into poetry and anything ironic and offbeat.
When he sees me looking his way, he waves and saunters straight toward me.
I will the sand beneath me to turn to quicksand. There’s nothing more awkward than coming face-to-face with someone who blatantly ignored your DM.
“Hey, Canada,” he says with effortless cool. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you.”
I blink into the sunlight, mute, my usual self around him until Renner pokes me to move up in line. He’s eyeing Clay suspiciously.
“You—you have?” I manage.
Clay smiles. “Why do you look so surprised?”
“I messaged you the other day. You didn’t respond.” I immediately regret speaking. Silence is best. Silence is safe.
He knits his forehead in confusion. “What? You did?” He pulls his phone from his pocket.
“On Instagram,” I clarify.
His mouth forms into an O shape. “I deleted Instagram from my phone during exam week and forgot to download it again. I’m so sorry. I would have answered otherwise.”
He looks genuinely apologetic. A sense of relief washes over me, and I wipe the bead of sweat that’s about to drip into my eyeball. This whole time I thought he was purposely ignoring me.
“Oh. No worries. I didn’t, um . . . care too much,” I say.
He gives me a funny smile. “Oh, well, okay then.”
“No. No. I did care,” I say quickly. “I wanted you to message me back.”
He breaks into a blinding smile and I start to lose myself, but I snap back at the sight of Renner frowning at me in the periphery.