Page 35 of Inseverable (Carolina Beach)

I keep pace with Hale as he heads in, catching enough in his expression to know he’s not happy either.

“Hey, Trin,” Callahan calls quietly.

Maybe it’s the day, or the mere inches that separate him and Becca, or Hunter’s recent text?whatever it is keeps me walking to the rear deck without a word. And while Becca has saved me a spot next to her like she always does, I follow Hale and sit between him and Mason.

I feel Hale’s attention on me, and while he seems bothered, mercifully he doesn’t say anything. I clasp my hand over my eyes, trying to shake every negative emotion digging its way through my skin. Not that it works. Right then and there, it’s all I can do not to run out of here.

A few minutes later Becca—gorgeous, leggy, blonde Becca— returns with four pitchers gripped tight in her hands and plastic cups tucked beneath her arm. She sets everything out and makes a bee-line to me, crouching between me and Hale.

“Now, how are we going to go beer for beer, if you’re not sitting beside me?” she asks.

I try to smile and say something polite, because I don’t want to believe that she can hurt me like Blakeney did—and I don’t want to upset her because I’m upset or accuse her of something she hasn’t done. But I can’t even speak. I was blind once, and more than a little naive. Am I still that same foolish girl I’ve been too many times?

Sadness creeps up on Becca’s stunning features when I don’t answer, dulling them in a way I can’t stand, but can’t help then. She strokes my hair away from my face. “Trin, you know I’d never do anything to hurt you.”

My eyes prickle with impending tears. Blakeney had once said something similar. Sisters before misters, right? Yeah, not so much.

“Who wants a shot? Trin’s buying,” Becca yells. She straightens to her full height, a right proud grin spreading along her face when everyone cheers. “Go on,” she says. “Don’t want to keep these fine people waiting.”

When I don’t move right away, she bends and whispers, “Besides, Callahan misses you. He called me to the bar and asked me where you were the minute he saw me. No, hi. No, how you doing? Nope. Just ‘where’s, Trin?’ in that Green Bumble Bee voice of his.”

I think she meant Batman, but thought Green Hornet, and became all sorts of confused. I laugh without meaning to and stand, pulling her into my arms.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

She hugs me tightly. “You know I love you. No matter what.”

“Love you, too, Becks,” I tell her.

She kisses my cheek and pats my ass as I walk off since that’s the kind of friend she is. A real one. I start to feel better, especially when Callahan glances up and the corners of his mouth curve in that “almost smile” of his.

It’s probably why I don’t notice Hunter right away, or Blakeney, even though they stop directly in front of me.

Their sudden presence strikes me across the face like a slap. They exchange glances, but it’s Hunter who’s the first to speak. “Hey, Trin,” he says. “We were hoping to find you here. Can I buy you a drink?”

“Buy me a drink?” I repeat, unable to get past the fact that he’s actually standing in front of me after all this time.

Never once did Hunter try to reach out to me—not to apologize, not to check in to see if I was okay, not even so much as to wish me well. Until he texted me today, it’s like I’d stopped existing to him—like I’d somehow wronged himandher—and I wasn’t worth wasting any more time on.

We never broke up. We never had it out. We simply stopped being a part of each other’s lives. I was certain he’d call—after the two years I gave him, he owed me as much. And I certainly wasn’t calling him.

But he never did, and neither did Blakeney. Not when I needed them to.

Blakeney offers me an apologetic smile that may appear genuine to some, but certainly not to me. “We were hoping we could talk to you,” she says.

She’s is in a short white skirt that shows off her legs and a coral tank that highlights her white blonde hair and dazzling teeth. Hunter is in his signature Polo shirt and cargo shorts. If I were to take an objective step back, I’d peg them among the most striking and elite of the privileged youths who frolic along the Carolina shores in the summer, and ski down the Swiss Alps in winter. But right then and there, I can’t be objective. Nor can I get past the shock and sting their presence evokes.

And apparently, I’m not alone.

Becca is suddenly there, and so is everyone else. “What in thehell?” she snaps.

Both Hunter and Blakeney right their stances, but hold their ground. Hunter’s eyes cut to my boys. “Hey,” he tells them.

“Hey?” Hale answers back, laughing. “You talking to me?”

“That’s right,” Hunter replies.

“In that case,fuck you,” Hale says, no longer smiling.

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