Broken Hearts, Fences and Other Things to Mend (18 page)

didn’t understand what had happened, but I fi gured I would look

at it more carefully when I got home, because right now, Josh was

waiting.

I picked up my satin clutch and looked around the now-

deserted guest room, realizing that my shoes were gone.

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“It’s up there, on the left,” Josh said, and I signaled and

turned down a driveway that I probably would have missed

unless he’d pointed it out, as it was tucked between two high

hedges.

I headed down the driveway and pulled to the side, where

there was a little paved turnaround, and put the car in park. I

looked up at the house and felt my jaw drop. I couldn’t see all of it,

but from what was lit up by the SUV’s headlights and the moon-

light spilling onto the driveway, this was a pretty amazing house.

It looked really big— almost as big as Bruce’s— but it was done in a

modern style, all glass and sharp edges and steel. My window was

down, and I could hear the sound of waves crashing nearby, which

meant the house was either on the water or very near it. “Nice

place,” I said, still staring at it. It really seemed like Karen must

have become a start- up millionaire or a master jewel thief since I’d

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last known her. Because otherwise, I couldn’t get my head around

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how a failed novelist suddenly had a mansion in the Hamptons.

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“Yeah,” Josh said, sounding a little embarrassed. “It’s okay.”

We hadn’t spoken much on the drive. I’d been driving bare-

foot, which was a new experience, and had been concentrating

on making sure that I didn’t lose control of the pedals. Josh gave

me directions, studying the map on his phone to make sure we

were going the right way. Since he’d only been in this house for a

few days, he was still learning his way around the neighborhood.

And my mind had mostly been on my vanishing footwear. I had

looked all over the guest room and the downstairs of the house,

but my shoes (technically, Gwyneth’s shoes) were absolutely no-

where. And since I was probably the one person who’d shown up

in heels and not fl ips- fl ops, it wasn’t like someone could have

grabbed them by accident, thinking they were theirs. Which meant

that someone had deliberately taken my shoes. Or Gwyneth’s

shoes, but it was the same idea. I had a pretty strong suspicion

that it had been the volleyball girl in the shallow end, getting her

revenge on me for the fl esh- eating bacteria rumor.

“Thanks for the ride,” Josh said. He glanced into the back of

the car, which was far too big to make any rational sense, then

turned back to me and said, deadpan, “Glad you had enough

room.”

I laughed. “I know, it’s kind of crazy.” I thought about ex-

plaining how it wasn’t really my car, but then realized I’d have to

go into the fact that it was Bruce’s, and that might lead to ques-

tions about my dad, and realized I probably should steer clear of

that area. “Thanks for the rescue.”

“It was no big deal,” Josh said, shooting me a quick smile. Si-

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lence fell between us, and as I felt the car rumbling underneath

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me, I was suddenly aware of how close we were, despite the large-

ness of the car. Even though we’d been in a pool together, and

wearing much less than we were right now, there was something

about being in a confi ned space that made me all the more aware

that I was very close to a cute guy who, I now knew, also had an

amazing body. It made me ner vous in a way that being with him

in the pool hadn’t. I about to tell him I should really be getting

home, when he said, “It was actually kind of fun.”

I raised my eyebrows, and he quickly said, “Well, I mean, ob-

viously, not as much for you. But I don’t know, it just kind of felt

like . . . a challenge, or something.”

“It’s one I’d rather not go through again,” I said.

“Totally,” he said. “I just . . .” His voice trailed off, and he

looked out the window. The engine’s rumblings started to sound

unhappy, like it didn’t like just sitting in park for this long. Plus,

maybe because it was the size of a small bus, my dad had warned

me that the SUV guzzled gas. I turned off the engine, and the

interior lights fl ared on briefl y before slowly dimming, and I

could see Josh illuminated for a second in profi le, his tan skin

and scattering of freckles, his hair drying a little funny from

the pool water, with occasional pieces sticking up. “I don’t know,”

he said after a moment, and it sounded like he was trying to fi gure

something out as he spoke. “My ex- girlfriend was all about ap-

pearances. It was like everything always had to be perfect. But

you—”

“
Really
don’t have that problem,” I said, trying to keep my

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voice light. Because, frankly, it was true, and once someone has

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left any attempt at perfect behind. I glanced over at Josh, then

turned so that I was facing him a little more, after making sure

the party dress was staying in place. I’d heard something in his

voice when he said “ex- girlfriend.” It was like he was still getting

used to saying it, and that was familiar. “Was it a recent breakup?”

Josh nodded. “Right as school was ending for the year,” he

said.

“I, um,” I started, then paused, not sure where to begin. I

hadn’t really had to explain my situation to anyone yet. I’d skated

over the particulars with Hallie, and Sophie had been there when

I’d realized it was actually over with Teddy, so she hadn’t really

needed additional info. I took a breath. “Me too. I mean, breakup,

I had.” I stopped, wondering why I’d just started talking like Yoda.

“Oh yeah?” Josh asked, turning more fully toward me, and

leaning his back against the door. “Recent?”

I nodded. I was about to tell him that it had only been a little

more than a week, when I realized that it had only been about

ten days since I’d accepted it was actually over, but Teddy had, in

fact, dumped me before that. “About two weeks ago.”

Josh winced. “That is recent.”

I nodded, even though it didn’t feel that way to me. It felt like

there was a chasm between the life I’d led when I was Teddy Cal-

laway’s girlfriend, and things were good, and now, when I was all

alone and I still didn’t know why. Also, I was going under my best

friend’s name and concealing my real identity to two people, so

as far as fortnights went, this one had been eventful.

“Let me guess,” Josh said, in what I already recognized as his

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joking voice, “he also always wanted everything to be perfect.”

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“No,” I said, wondering if it was somehow a betrayal to dis-

cuss Teddy like this— but simultaneously feeling like it was a

relief to talk about him to someone who didn’t already have an

opinion on the situation. “He
was
perfect.”

Josh looked at me skeptically. “Really?”

I nodded. Josh still looked unconvinced, but that was because

he didn’t know Teddy— didn’t know about all his organizations

and commitments, and his tireless work on behalf of the Marsh

Warbler. “Really.”

Josh shrugged. “Maybe this guy was,” he said. “But it seems

to me that perfect doesn’t exist.”

“What about your ex?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t overstepping

my bounds.

Josh let out a short, humorless laugh, the kind I hadn’t yet

heard from him. “That’s just the thing,” he said. “It was all an

illusion. She wasn’t who I thought she was. She was cheating on

me, for one thing. So . . . not so perfect after all.”

My breath caught in my throat. “I’m so sorry,” I murmured. It

was for what he’d just told me as much as his expression— the

open, friendly one I’d seen on the train was now totally gone, and

I could see the pain underneath.

Josh shrugged, like he couldn’t care less, but he didn’t quite

pull it off. “It was hard,” he said quietly. “But it was better to

know, in the end. And I won’t make that mistake again. I’m done

with liars, and people who pretend to be something they’re not.”

I was about to agree wholeheartedly when I suddenly realized

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that I fi t into both of those categories. I looked down at my hands—

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only now becoming unpruned— and suddenly wished I could tell

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him the truth about who I was. But a moment later, I came back

to my senses, remembering Hallie, and what I was in the Hamp-

tons to do. I looked back up at him and saw that Josh’s expression

was less troubled than it had been a moment before. And that he

was looking right at me.

“It’s good to talk to someone who gets it,” he said.

“It is,” I agreed, recognizing as I said it how true this was.

Sophie, for all her experience with boys, had never been in love,

never really had her heart broken. And though she was always

there to listen, I wasn’t always sure she understood.

Josh shifted in his seat, and a shaft of moonlight came through

the windshield and landed across his face. I realized, again, just

how close we were. I could have reached out and touched him. I

could have smoothed down one of the little tufts of hair standing

up on his head. The thought of doing either of these things was

surprising enough that I leaned back quickly, moving away from

him. A moment later, Josh sat back and unbuckled his seatbelt.

“I should go in,” he said. He rested his hand on the door han-

dle and smiled at me. “Night, Sophie.”

I made myself smile back at him, even though hearing my

best friend’s name was a reminder that things were not simple

here, no matter that we had recent traumatic breakups in com-

mon. “Night, Josh.”

He got out of the car then, waving once before going into the

house. I waited until I saw he’d made it safely inside before start-

ing the engine and heading home.

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An hour later, I paced around my room at Bruce’s, showered

and in my pajamas. I had really wanted to avoid any more

contact with water for a while, but after that much time in the pool,

I positively reeked of chlorine, and was worried about the effect it

might have on my recently dyed hair.

I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about the shoes, but at

least Gwyneth was currently out of town, and not here and won-

dering where they had gotten to. So I had a little time to fi gure

out a solution there. The bigger problem was the bathing suit.

As I looked at the pieces of it, I tried to see where it had come

apart. It still made no sense to me how this could have happened.

If Hallie really had ripped the suit when pulling the tags off, it

seemed to me that it would have torn right away, and wouldn’t

have only happened once I was in the water. I turned it over in my

hands, and it was then that I saw a tiny tag sewn into the lining,

which read:
All- natural, untreated fabric. To preserve garment

construction and extend garment life, do not expose to chemicals

(this includes chlorine).

Well, that made a lot of sense for a bathing suit. But at least I

understood why it had happened. Just as this question was an-

swered, it hit me for the fi rst time that this was not
my
bathing

suit. That it had been on loan to me, and while in my custody, I

had effectively wrecked it. I wasn’t able to stop myself from

groaning out loud. Here I was, attempting to get on Hallie’s good

side— trying to show her that I could be a good person, that she

could trust me— and I went and destroyed her brand- new bath-

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ing suit. The fact that I hadn’t done it intentionally was beside

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the point. Coupled with the rest of my behavior— like refusing to

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