“Or,” he countered, “I encouraged her to educate herself and provided the means for doing so.”
The guy eating the pie snorted.
“Good night, Clyde,” I said, shaking my head.
“Oh, don’t leave angry,” he called out as I started back towards the door. “It wasn’t targeted at your boyfriend. He seems like a good kid.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“No? Well, can’t say I’m not relieved.”
I turned around, looking at him. First Ivy, then Clyde, not to mention every other volley from the peanut gallery all day. What was it about me that made people think my love life was up for their debate? “You just said he seems decent.”
“He does,” he said, shrugging. “But still, you know the drill. Those things never end well.”
“What things?” I said. “Relationships? That’s a pretty sweeping generalization, don’t you think?”
“You’re right,” he agreed. “Can’t speak for all. And I’m not. But when it comes to folks like that and people like us? Not a lot of happy endings.”
I had a flash of Amber saying the same thing about Luke and my long-term chances. So the odds weren’t good for me and a boy I knew or one not from here. Which meant what: I’d never be happy with anyone?
“Well,” I said, with a shrug, “someone’s gotta be first to buck the trend, right? Might as well be me.”
Clyde just looked at me for a long moment. Then he smiled. “Good point.”
“Good night,” I replied. And this time, I walked out the door.
12
“DON’T LOOK YET. Are you looking?”
I blinked again against Theo’s hand, which was pressed over my eyes. “I’m not looking.”
“Good. Just a little bit farther. We’re almost there.”
Even though I was basically blindfolded, I knew we were outside and walking in sand. Which narrowed the location of Theo’s Super Secret Surprise Best First True Date Ever to, well, just about anywhere in Colby. I was also pretty sure I’d just gotten a whiff of popcorn, which meant we were somewhere near the boardwalk, but the wind was blowing too hard for me to be any more specific.
“Okay, now, step up one step.” I did, feeling his hand support my elbow. “And one more. Perfect. Now take two steps back, keep your eyes closed, and count to ten.”
“Theo,” I protested, as he dropped his hand. “Do we really—”
“To ten!” he repeated, his voice now farther away.
“One, two, three,” I began. Some sand blew in my face. “Four, five, six . . .”
“Go more slowly!”
“Se-ven. Eight. Ni-ine . . .”
Suddenly he was back beside me, sliding his hand over mine. When I got to ten, I opened my eyes.
The first thing I saw, no surprise, was the ocean. Then I realized we were on a wooden platform, dusted with sand, that held a small wooden table and chairs. The table was set with a bottle of wine, two glasses, and a white paper bag. I looked behind me, expecting to see a house, but there was only a rise of dune, dotted with driftwood.
“Wow,” I said. “Is this—”
“Isn’t it great? I found it while I was running the other morning. It’s like this perfect spot in the middle of nowhere. The table and chairs were just tossed to the side, so I pulled them over.”
“It’s beautiful,” I told him.
He squeezed my hand, clearly pleased with himself. “Well, there’s much more to come. This is only the beginning of the Best First True Date Ever. Here, let me get us some wine.”
He walked over to the table, pulling the cork from the bottle there. As he busied himself pouring, I turned slightly, hoping so much that the walkway he’d led me down from the car was not lined with a white fence. It was. Worse, there were still scraps of yellow ribbon tied to it.
In the two weeks or so since Theo and I started hanging out regularly, I’d learned a few things about him. First, he liked pomp. Everything was an Event, with a Specific and Special Moniker. Hence, our first kiss was referred to as the Big Club Big Moment, our developing relationship part of his Best Summer Ever. Likewise, this evening, which he’d planned to compensate for the rushed and somewhat chaotic state of our getting together, was our First True Date. After being with Luke, who had to be reminded of any and all occasions and still forgot my birthday regularly, I found this kind of adorable.
At the same time, for all his incredibly sweet intentions, Theo’s surprises and Big Moments were often, for me at least, tinged with a sense of awkwardness. Everything he found novel, charming, and amazing here, I’d known my whole life. Which meant knowing the backstory of them all as well.
Like, for instance, this spot. It was not a table in the middle of nowhere; in fact, a year earlier, there had been a set of stairs attached to this platform, which was in turn attached to a house. Both had been swept away by a freak storm that had hit us fast and hard in September—between ostensibly “more serious” hurricanes—that also claimed a life of a neighbor, who was hit by a flying deck board while trying to save the family’s loose dog. Bad enough to lose your house to something big and scary enough to have its own name. But this was nothing anyone really saw coming. Of course, Theo had no way of knowing this. To him, it was just a pretty place, not sacred ground.
This same thing had happened, albeit on lesser levels, the other times he’d tried to put together Big Impressive Moments. There was his discovery of the “great hole-in-the-wall restaurant” where I’d actually eaten with Luke on one of our first dates, not to mention many after. His excitement about the dusty Island Drive-In Movie Theatre—complete with old-timey speakers!—which I associated only with peach brandy and my first hangover. Also the lagoon behind the mall, where for a quarter you could buy some dog kibble to throw to the voracious snapping turtles. They rose up from below the water, looking positively primordial, and had been a favorite of mine for as long as I could remember. Which made it considerably harder to feign the level of excitement he clearly felt showing them to me, although I did my best.