Page 14 of Rebel Summer

“I’m going for a walk,” I said before making my way to the nearest exit.

My dad grunted something before I closed the front door, the tension in my shoulders lessening almost immediately as I stepped onto the sidewalk.

The warm island breeze and the chirp of the birds only distracted me for a moment. Never far from my mind during my talk with my dad was the very real knowledge that Dax Miller and I were about to collide once more.

It had been ten years. A lot could change for a person in that amount of time. My dad could grow a whole new personality depending on who he was talking to, so…it was definitely possible that Dax had changed. That maybe he wouldn’t make my life miserable over this. We weren’t teenagers anymore. This accident would be just that…an accident.

Just an itsy-bitsy violation of the law.

My dad’s words were a distant memory as I walked toward the town square. And though my hands grew clammy and my movements a bit twitchy at the thought…Dax deserved an apology from me today.

And he would get one.

Biology Class

Day 3

Mr. Gray’s voice broke through the classroom. “You should have started your incision from the frog’s cloaca to its lower jaw. Consult your instruction card if you need to see exactly where to begin the cut.”

A bead of sweat dripped down the side of my face as I grabbed the scalpel, fully prepared to ignore the dolt sitting next to me. I could do this. As soon as I figured out where and what the cloaca was.

I squinted toward the instruction card and placed the scalpel in the correct-ish spot. Dax nonchalantly tapped the desk to the beat of a song playing in his ear, but I felt his gaze. My right leg bounced up and down no matter how much I tried to keep it still.

“Tick-tock,” Dax murmured beside me.

I mentally flipped him the bird while my wobbly, scalpel-clutching hand pressed the tip into the frog’s skin. Nothing happened. I tried again, this time giving enough pressure to dent the skin.

“Did Ivy Brooks get her last partner to do all her dirty work?” Dax asked, a sudden interest in his voice. “Because that would make my entire day.”

“No.”

He nodded toward the frog. “Dig into him, then.”

His brown eyes were laughing at me. My nostrils flared, and without giving myself time to think, I jabbed the sharp edge into the frog. The feel of the knife cutting through layers of skin and body parts made me immediately drop the scalpel. I turned toward Dax as my body began dry-heaving in big, jerking motions.

With great alarm, Dax threw his hands to the table and pushed himself two feet away, the violent scrape of the chair on the hardwood breaking into the low hum of the room.

The Floridian sun warmed my skin as my steps quickened in the direction of Dax’s shop. With the entire island being only four miles long, it didn’t take long to walk or bike anywhere.

My resolve to walk directly to Dax’s shop held firm for an entire block. I arrived at the town square, just down the road from his shop, with startling efficiency. But it was fine. I was going to right a wrong. I just wasn’t sure why that tiny moment in my garage with him all those years ago kept playing in my mind. He probably didn’t even remember. I certainly never thought about it.

Until…last night.

So it was a little confusing how my mind suddenly seemed to remember every detail, down to the way he looked at me right before he?—

Hey, look at that!

The Book Isle was open.

With the exception of Sunrise Cafe, my old job and stomping grounds, The Book Isle was my favorite shop in town. I checked my watch. It was only a few minutes after 9. Showing up that early would make me seem eager. I had a conscience that refused to ease up, but that didn’t mean I wanted Dax to think I was excited to see him.

I entered the book shop and settled in for a good half-hour browse until I realized that yet another friend from high school, Briggs, worked there now.

“Hey, Ivy. Heard about the crash. How you holding up?” Briggs looked like he belonged in Hollywood. He had that boy-next-door vibe that worked well in his favor. Like now, his sandy-blond hair was curled slightly at the edges, and glasses framed a pair of sweet green eyes.

Why couldn’t I have crashed into his shop? He would have definitely been a gentleman about the whole thing.

Granted, I still didn’t know how Dax would react when I spoke to him, but I definitely didn’t think his eyes would be giving off sweet vibes.