Page 71 of Until We Break

“He’s a good kid. He’s fine.”

“Oh no!”

“What?”

I buried my face in my hands. “I forgot to pick up the tablecloth again. Josie called and left a message. It’s ready and I have to get it. I’m surprised Carrie hasn’t come after me for it.”

“You talked to Josie?”

“Yeah, that’s where I took it. The Clean Queen.” I giggled at the name. “I didn’t realize when I met her that’s where she worked, or her mom owned it. She never mentioned it.”

“How much do you hang out with Josie?” There was a slight edge to his voice.

“Just the one time when she invited me to the bonfire. I might have screwed up making a friend that night.”

“What do you mean?” He turned at the next stoplight and we emerged in a cute downtown district I didn’t know existed.

“I left with you that night.” I blushed. “I didn’t tell her where I was going. I think it made things awkward between us somehow.”

Caleb cleared his throat. “You can make other friends. There are enough people our age on the island.”

“I did meet her friends. They used the ramp at the marina. It’s how we met, actually, but I didn’t really talk to those girls.”

“You mean Lila and Marin?”

I looked over at him. I had to remind myself they all knew each other. “Yes, that’s right.”

He parked in a parallel spot, across the street from a restaurant with huge rectangular windows and a black and white scalloped awning. I spotted candles flickering inside the dark restaurant. “We’re here,” he announced.

“Wow. It looks so cute and romantic and…”

He hopped out and raced around to my side of the car. He lifted my hand as I stepped out onto the curb.

“I realize this might not meet your New York City standards, but around here Café Midnight is fine dining.”

I nodded with a serious look on my face. “Oh, I can tell. There are white tablecloths and candles.”

He poked me in the side as we crossed the street arm in arm. As he opened the door for me he whispered, “Did I tell you you look fucking beautiful tonight?”

I trembled. My entire body lit up with the words.

“Something like that,” I answered.

The hostess seated us at a table for two by the window. There were fresh local flowers in an antique vase. The restaurant had the feel of being here for over a hundred years. I wondered if they were open during the day. I had a quick thought of sitting here, drinking coffee and writing.

My eyes widened.

“Something wrong?” Caleb asked.

I shook my head. “No. No. I just thought of something. Something I had forgotten.”

“Not another tablecloth.”

I laughed. “No.”

We ordered and our waitress delivered a bottle of wine to our table. I didn’t want to stare, but I was struck by how differenteverything was in the restaurant. It was dark and intimate. I couldn’t believe we were only a ferry ride from the Blue Heron. Why did it feel so different on this side of the sound? How could one tiny town on the mainland feel like I had sailed to a different country?

“What are you thinking over there?” Caleb interrupted.

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