I return to the beach and sit in Rowan’s chair, determined to talk to her. The neighbors trickle back to home base, but over an hour passes, and Rowan doesn’t show. While the others are distracted with food and swimming, I nudge Sara’s shoulder, pulling her away from her sketchbook.
“Seen Rowan?”
“Nope.”
“Text her. See if she’s okay.”
Sara’s eyebrow pyramids on her forehead. “Something wrong with your phone?”
“Please, Sara.”
Her eyes roll at my pleading expression.This fucking kid… but she relents, her thumbs flying across her screen.
A moment later, she reads the reply. “Fine.”
That’s the answer I should’ve expected. I lean forward, and maybe it’s immature to pry information from a teen, but I ask, “What do you know about Dean?”
She side-smirks. “Mr. Maddix? Why do you want to know about him?”
“Don’t fuck around. Either you have an opinion of the guy or not.”
She laughs. “He’s alright. Theater geeks love him. I’m taking his class as an elective this year, which I wouldn’t do without hearing good things. His project with Rowan was the highlight of last year—a trans retelling ofTaming of the Shrew. It’s on YouTube. You should watch.”
“Including the proposal?”
“Yep… That’s the part people watch most. The project’s highlight reel is also cool—seeing how they put it all together, how Rowan and Mr. Maddix worked together.”
“Hmm,” I grunt, searching the app on my phone. “What else?”
She wags her purple fingernail at me. “Nope. Not until you tell me why.”
My shoulders slump in resignation. “Fine. I kissed her. She… reacted badly.”
“What do you mean? Reacted badly?”
“She was into it, and then suddenly, she wasn’t.”
Sara nods—nothing surprises her.
“—Tell the neighbors, and I’ll switch my playlists to folk ballads, Barry Manilow, and fifty-year-old country songs,” I tack on quickly.
“Who’s Barry Manilow?” She laughs. “Fine. I won’t tell.”
“Good. Now, have any insights?”
She takes a deep breath, glancing at the ocean. “Well, Mr. Maddix is a good guy. Dorky, but he means well. The thing is… everyone knows that Rowan hates crowds and attention. So, I get why she was nervous. He put her in a tight spot. But messing up her answer put him in a tough place, too. Still, everyone’s surprised that he’s bailed on her all summer. There’s a school group chat about it. Team Mackey. Team Maddix.” She huffs and rolls her eyes. “Shows how boring we are, huh? Group chatting about our teachers?”
I shrug. “What team are you on?”
“Definitely Team Maddix at first. He’s always so funny and friendly, and she embarrassed him.”
“What about now?”
“Team Rowan—don’t tell her that. She’d probably want to start braiding each other’s hair or getting mani-pedis together.”
A light chuckle comes out, knowing it’s true.
“She tries so hard, you know? And she’s sad. All the time. I think Mr. Maddix is the type to run away from his problems, like not dealing with the real reason behind Rowan’s answer. It’s easier than the truth.”