Page 65 of Forgive You

“Peachtree?” Her eyebrows move up, her lips glued together to prevent her amusement from slipping through.

It was our go-to drink when we would hang out in high school, mostly dumped by Hunter and Charlotte. We would steal a bottle of Peachtree from her dad’s liquor cabinet, always stocked since her mother always opened her weekend with a tumbler of the fruity liquor and ice, and head to the riverbank to hang out.

We’d go by bicycle, me riding hers and her jumping on the back. We always finished the bottle, and wealwayscrashed into some magnolia trees on our way home at least once.

“So the plan is to get her wasted and take advantage of her again?” Jordan kills the unspoken good memory that I know is going through both our minds right now.

“If I kill him right now, would you testify against me?”

Julie shrugs with a playful smirk. “Tough one.”

“What? I’m wounded.”

Ignoring my brother’s dramatic reaction, she softly takes the bottles from my hand. “Thank you.”

Her smile hits me like a bullet to the heart, elevating my mood. If that’s the smile I get for a bottle of peach liquor, I’m ready to buy her a damn store.

We take our stuff and stroll to the beach, then drop it all on one pile, Julie unfolding a towel a couple of yards from the water and taking a seat.

“Are you heading back to NC for Hunter’s birthday?” Jordan asks, attaching the leash of his board to his ankle.

“I don’t think I’ll be allowed to see his kids again if I don’t.”

“Are you staying with your parents?” I adjust the strap of my leash a bit, then run a hand through my hair when I straighten my spine.

“I’m thinking about staying with Hunter and Charlotte. You know, see a bit more of the kids. I haven’t seen them in a while.”

There it is again.

It’s not a lie. But it’s not completely truthful either. She hasn’t seen Logan and Lizzie in a couple of months, but that’s no excuse to not stay with her parents. They adore her. Or at least, they did.

What changed?

“We should all fly out together,” Jordan suggests, then heads toward the ocean with a running pace. Water sloshes up, his hair dancing in the movement before he throws his board on the water and dives in like he’s shooting an episode of Baywatch.

“You good to hang out here for a while?” I twist to where Julie is sitting cross-legged on my gray towel.

She holds up the bottle. “You made sure of it.”

I nod, then wink. “Save a little for me.”

My feet sink into the sand as I follow behind my brother, at a little less theatrical pace than he chose.

“Can’t make any promises.” She chuckles, exposing her cheeky behavior, and my genuine laugh is something I haven’t heard in a while.

I forgot I was capable of experiencing a full laugh. I don’t give it much attention, instead I exhale in a form of full contentment when the water wraps around my legs.

For the next twenty minutes, I get lost in the waves with a serenity I haven’t felt in a while. The evening sun warms my skin, the ocean giving me perfect wave after wave, the sensation of my muscles being used in a satisfying way calming my mind. But it’s Julie sitting on the beach, watching us, watching me, waiting for me, just being present, that’s creating an eternal bonfire in my heart.

“You guys working it out?” Jordan asks when we’re out in the ocean for the dozenth time, waiting on our boards for the next wave.

Our feet float beside our boards, our hands moving back and forth in the water.

Are we working it out?

“I hope so,” I confess, but there’s still that little bit that keeps nagging at me. “She said something weird the other night when she was drunk. She babbled about some girl being right about Jacob.”

“Being right about what?”

---