So, looks like I’m going. I guess it’ll be fun.

I guess.

The only thing that sucks is that if Lillia was going, I know it’d for sure be a good time.

Chapter Thirty-One

LILLIA

THE VERY FIRST DAY OF spring break, I get the news—I got in to Boston College! My mom and I jump up and down and scream our heads off when we see the big envelope. Daddy’s at a conference now, but he’s flying in on Friday, so we can do a celebratory dinner at Uni Sushi, which is easily the most expensive restaurant on the island. There’s only a tasting menu, and it’s incredible. I’ve been there once, for my fourteenth birthday. My mom took Rennie and Nadia and me. The best part is, my mom said I should invite Reeve too, so he and Daddy can properly meet. It will be perfect, because my dad will be in a good mood, and there will be amazing sushi, and it will just be really easy-peasy. Fingers crossed.

I spend the week riding Phantom nearly every afternoon and working on my tan. If I can’t tan on a yacht, I can at least tan by my pool. I’ll be damned if they come back all golden brown and I’m pasty like sugar-cookie dough.

One day Reeve and I go get mani-pedis at the salon, and the ladies at the salon go gaga over him. The whole time, Reeve flips through fashion magazines pointing out possible prom looks for me. He finds one I really love, so I rip the page out when no one’s looking.

As soon as I get home, I start calling stores in Boston, and I find one that carries it—this fancy boutique on Newbury Street near our apartment. It’s call C’est La, and it carries a lot of French designers. My mom buys all her bras there, because according to her, only the French know how to do lingerie.

The next day Reeve and I wake up extra early and head into Boston. We go straight to the boutique, and I run and try the dress on. It fits perfectly, but I’m still not sure.

Reeve knocks on the dressing room door. “Come on, lemme see.”

“No, I want it to be a surprise,” I say.

I’m still staring at myself in the dress, looking at it from every angle, when it occurs to me—what’s holding me back. Why I’m uncertain. It’s the first dress for a school dance that I’ll have bought without Rennie beside me telling me it’s the one.

I have to bite my lip not to cry. I look into the mirror and whisper, “Ren, what do you think? Do I have your okay?”

I close my eyes and imagine that Rennie is next to me, smiling, saying, “Yeah, beotch, you have my okay.”

It’s silly, but when I open my eyes, I know this dress is the one, because Rennie said so.

After we leave the boutique, I take Reeve to the place where all the food trucks park near the BC campus. Sausage-and-pepper sandwiches are Reeve’s favorite, and supposedly this one cart serves up the best ones in the entire country. It’s hilarious, watching him eat it. He keeps making these Mmmmm sounds. Then we walk around campus for a bit before we drive back to the ferry. I point out the dorms and the library, and we stop in the student store and I buy a BC sweatshirt. I imagine it’ll be just like this when he’s visiting me on the weekends when he doesn’t have football.

*  *  *

On Friday I’m on my computer looking at pics people are posting from Alex’s uncle’s boat. Ash just posted one of some crazy chocolate dessert with whipped cream and cookie crumbles. There’s another one of her with Derek. She’s sitting in his lap, and she’s got on a wide-brimmed hat, and her hair is braided in pigtails. I’m scrolling through Alex’s feed when I see a picture of Kat in a bikini with a captain’s hat on and a cigar hanging out the side of her mouth. She’s super tan too.

I pause on a picture of Alex and Kat. They’ve got their backs to the camera, and they’re dangling their legs over the water, cracking up over something. I’m glad she got to go on this trip. The old Kat would never have gone on vacation with any of those people.

I helped her pack the night before she left, and Kat kept saying how this was her first real spring break trip, how she’d hardly ever even left Jar Island. It definitely made me stop and think about how I’ve taken for granted the vacations my parents have taken us on—Paris, Hawaii, Japan, Korea, even just those weekend jaunts to New York. I doubt Kat’s ever been to New York. Rennie had never been before we took her. The next time we go to New York, I’m going to invite Kat. It’s her kind of city.

I snap my laptop shut and put on my favorite bikini, the one with the daisies. Then I grab an Orangina and a towel and head out to the patio. Nadia and her friends Janelle and Patrice are floating around the pool with the outdoor speakers on blast. It’s not that warm out, but the sun is bright and our pool is heated. Janelle and Patrice chorus, “Hi, Lillia!”

“Hey, guys,” I say. I go turn the music down, and Nadia rolls her eyes but doesn’t say anything. She knows better than that. She can be mad all she wants, but she knows that if she dares cop an attitude with me in front of her little friends, I am not having it.

I’ve got my eyes closed when I feel someone picking me up. My eyes fly open, and it’s Reeve grinning at me. He’s in his swimming trunks and sunglasses. I thought he was at the gym! That’s what he’s been doing every day when I’ve been at the stables. Now that he’s gotten his playbook and workout routine for Graydon, he’s always in the weight room lifting weights. It shows, too. He has a serious six-pack now.

“Hey, you,” I say.

“Hey, you,” he says, and he scoops me up and carries me over to the pool like I weigh nothing.

“Don’t you dare!” I scream, flailing my arms and legs.

“Do it, Reeve!” Janelle shrieks.

“I’m serious, you better not,” I warn him.

Reeve winks at me. “I won’t,” he says, and then he jumps into the water with me in his arms. We land with a big splash, and I’m still screaming with my arms tight around his neck. Sputtering with laughter, he says, “You’re choking me!”

I splash him right in the face and paddle away from him. “Everybody, get Reeve!”

Janelle and Patrice dive toward him, but Nadia hangs back. Reeve swims right for her and picks her up like he’s going to throw her into the air. She’s screaming her head off, and for a second I worry that she’s mad. I’m about to tell Reeve to put her down, when she starts cracking up. And then everybody’s splashing everybody. Us girls get him good, and Reeve starts circling like a shark, throwing all the girls around. They love it. I swim to the edge of the pool and hang off the side and watch. I haven’t seen Nadia this happy since before Rennie died. “Lilli, help!” she screams, giggling so hard, she can barely stay afloat.

“Sister power!” I scream back, swimming toward them. I start trying to dunk Reeve, but it doesn’t do any good, because pretty soon he’s got me by the waist with one arm and Nadia with the other.

It’s a really good day. It feels so nice to play, to feel young and free. Later Nadia and her friends are watching TV inside, and Reeve and I are wrapped up in towels watching the sun set. “Hey, can you maybe wear a tie to dinner tonight, and khakis?” Before Reeve can answer, I add, “And my dad will order sake for the table, but you definitely shouldn’t drink any.”

Reeve gives me a look. “Cho, I’m not a barbarian. I know how to act around parents.”

“I know, I know, but please just don’t act cocky. My dad hates when young men act cocky.” That’s a direct quote, too.

“Hey, you knew what you were signing up for when you got on this ride,” Reeve says, grinning, and I shriek and slap him on the legs.

“Ow, ow! That hurts!” Reeve grabs my hands. “I’m kidding. I’ll be a perfect gentleman. Don’t worry so much.”

I lean back against him and say, “Remember the first time we met? When the house was being built? You were here with your dad and we were playing tag, and you ran right into a room with fresh cement and ruined it.” I burst into giggles.

Ruefully Reeve says, “My dad beat my ass for that. It was worth it, though. You had on a frilly dress like you were going to a piano recital, and you were such a little bitch.” In a high-pitched voice he says, “ ‘I’m rich and this is my house.’ ”

I slap him on the chest and he fends me off, and we just sit there, watching the sun dip away.

“I love you, Cho.”

A smile spreads across my cheeks. “Duh,” I say.

“You’re such a brat,” he says, pulling me closer.

“You knew what you were signing up for,” I say.

He laughs, and then I say, “I love you, too.”

Reeve’s chest puffs up, he’s so happy. “Hey, I was going to wait to give this to you tonight, but I’m already nervous about impressing your dad, and they might think it’s weird, like I’m getting too serious too fast . . .” He reaches into his bag and pulls out a small box. “For you.”

I don’t know if Reeve has good taste in jewelry or not, but I recognize the red velvet box as being from Brightline’s—the shop where I bought the necklaces for me, Rennie, and Kat—and they really don’t have anything ugly. I open it already smiling. It’s a beautiful necklace: an opal heart surrounded by a line of pavé diamonds, on a short chain. I can’t stop staring at it. “I love it! But, Reeve, it must have been so expensive.”

“Only the best for Princess Lil,” he teases, and I lean forward and hold up my hair so Reeve can do the latch. Years from now this will be what I remember when I remember my spring break senior year. Not the missed trip to Jamaica, or not being invited on Alex’s yacht with all my friends. It will be this moment right here. The smell of chlorine on his skin. The way the sun dips slow into the water before it disappears. The first time I ever told a boy I loved him.

Chapter Thirty-Two

KAT

THE SUN IS SINKING LOWER and lower in the sky. Even though I know it’s bad as shit for your eyes, I’ve got my sunglasses perched on the top of my head so I can stare straight into it. The orangey pinks of the rays, sizzling out across the slate sky, lighting up the turquoise water in electric-blue streaks. The colors are just too beautiful, and to look at them through some cheap-ass drugstore plastic lenses would be a straight-up travesty. Plus we set sail back to Jar Island tomorrow, and I want to hold on to every single minute.

Clearly I screwed up. Forget Oberlin. I should have applied to some random school in the Caribbean to study marine biology so I could see this sunset every damn day.

Everyone else is below getting ready for dinner. I’m in my black bikini, cross-legged on one of the white sunbathing beds on the main deck. It was starting to get cold, and my suit was still wet from this afternoon—when me and the guys were taking turns jumping off the bow. Luckily, one of the boat staff brought me out a drink and set a super-soft blanket over my shoulders.

I’ve done jack shit for the past few days besides swim and sun myself, and my legs are almost as brown as the whiskey in my glass. I have to keep reminding myself to sip it slowly, because it’s the smoothest, most quality shit in Uncle Tim’s bar, and it goes down dangerously easy. I fear I’ll never be able to drink cheap whiskey again.

Down on the deck below me, I hear the boat staff setting the dinner table for us, the clinking of glasses and silverware. We’ve eaten outside every single night, a gourmet meal with fresh seafood, on a big banquet table draped with white linen tablecloths. There’s a chef working all day for us, breakfast, lunch, dinner, and desserts, while we f**k around.

I thought it would take some getting used to, this kind of life. But it hasn’t. Like the whiskey, it’s going down really, really easy. And I’m kind of bummed that this is my one and only spring break trip.

“Yo, Kat. Look what we found!”

I turn my head and see PJ walking over in a button-up shirt and board shorts, mirrored sunglasses hiding his eyes. He’s holding a wooden box. Jonah, one of Alex’s chorus friends, comes up beside him and lifts the lid, like a game show hostess showing off a prize. Inside are neat stacks of brown cigars, each one encircled with an ornate gold foil band.

I stand up and pull on my cutoffs. “Holy shit. Are you serious? Another box of Cubans?” I haven’t smoked a cigarette for three weeks now, but I’ve made a spring break exception for a Cuban. Several spring break exceptions.

“Uncle Tim must have just come back from Havana,” Derek says. He takes out two, cuts the tips with a silver clip monogrammed with Uncle Tim’s initials, and passes around a lighter. “Yo, Al! You want one too, right?”

Alex comes up from the kitchen, followed by one of the hired boat staff carrying a tray in his hands loaded with four tumblers of whiskey and perfect square ice cubes. I quickly drain the glass I’m holding and then trade my empty for a fresh one.

“The chef is making some sick crab cakes! Should be ready in an hour, guys,” he announces. After taking a few big gulps of his whiskey, he says to us, “What do you say we never go back?”

Though he’s smiling, I know there’s truth behind those words. This has been an escape for Alex, to not have to see Reeve and Lillia together.

In a way it’s been an escape for me, too.

Right after we set sail, I regretted saying yes. First off, sailing on any boat when Judy Blue Eyes is gone depressed the shit out of me. And, as I expected, it was awkward on board for the first few days. We were definitely divided along class lines. Alex’s chorus friends mostly hung out up on the deck, while the rest of us were in the lounge. Jonah spent the whole first night shuffling his magic cards, and Ivan didn’t do much but stare down at his bongos and pat them quietly. Brianna, the girl who did the Christmas duet with Alex, has followed him around like a lovesick puppy. It was basically my worst fears come true.