The Last Song Read online

  Later that night, he found her sitting exactly where he thought she would be, in a beach chair with a book open in her lap, reading by the light of a small lantern.

  She looked up as he approached, then went back to her book, acting neither surprised nor pleased.

  "I figured you'd be here," he said. "Your house, your turtles, and all."

  When she didn't respond, his gaze drifted. It wasn't very late, and shadows were moving behind the curtains of the small house she lived in.

  "Any sign of the raccoon?"

  Instead of answering, she flipped a page of her book.

  "Wait. Let me guess. You're giving me the cold shoulder, right?"

  With that, she sighed. "Shouldn't you be with your friends, staring at yourselves in the mirror?"

  He laughed. "That's funny. I'll have to remember that."

  "I'm not being funny. I'm being serious."

  "Oh, because we're so good-looking, right?"

  In response, she went back to her book, but Will could tell she wasn't actually reading. He took a seat beside her.

  "'Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way,'" he quoted, pointing to her book. "It's the first line in your book. I always thought there was a lot of truth in that. Or maybe that's what my English teacher said. I can't really remember. I read it last semester."

  "Your parents must be so proud you can read."

  "They are. They bought me a pony and everything when I did a book report on Cat in the Hat."

  "Was that before or after you claimed to have read Tolstoy?"

  "Oh, so you are listening. Just making sure." He spread his arms toward the horizon. "It's a beautiful night, isn't it? I've always loved nights like this. There's something relaxing about waves sounding in the darkness, don't you think?" He paused.

  She closed her book. "What's with the full-court press?"

  "I like people who like turtles."

  "So go hang out with your aquarium friends. Oh, wait, you can't. Because they're saving other turtles, and your other friends are painting their nails and curling their hair, right?"

  "Probably. But I just figured you might want some company."

  "I'm fine," she snapped. "Now go."

  "It's a public beach. I like it here."

  "So you're going to stay?"

  "I think so."

  "Then you won't mind if I go inside?"

  He sat up straighter and brought a hand to his chin. "I don't know if that's such a good idea. I mean, how can you trust that I'll stay out here all night? And with that pesky raccoon..."

  "What do you want with me?" she demanded.

  "For starters, how about your name?"

  She grabbed a towel, spreading it over her legs. "Ronnie," she said. "It's short for Veronica."

  He reclined a little, propping his arms behind him. "All right, Ronnie. What's your story?"

  "Why do you care?"

  "Gimme a break," he said, turning to face her. "I'm trying, okay?"

  He wasn't sure what she thought about that, but as she collected her hair into a loose ponytail, she seemed to accept the idea that she wasn't going to be able to easily run him off.

  "All right. My story: I live in New York with my mom and little brother, but she shipped us here to spend the summer with our dad. And now I'm stuck babysitting turtle eggs while a volleyball player slash grease monkey slash aquarium volunteer tries to hit on me."

  "I'm not hitting on you," he protested.

  "No?"

  "Believe me, you'd know if I was hitting on you. You wouldn't be able to stop yourself from succumbing to my charms."

  For the first time since he'd arrived, he heard her laugh. He took that as a good sign and went on.

  "Actually, I came here because I felt bad about the cage, and I didn't want you to be out here alone. Like I said earlier, it's a public beach and you never know who might come walking up."

  "Like you?"

  "It's not me you should be worried about. There are bad people everywhere. Even here."

  "And let me guess. You'd protect me, right?"

  "If it came down to that, I'd protect you in a heartbeat."

  She didn't respond, but he had the feeling he'd surprised her. The tide was coming in, and together they watched the waves flare silver whenever they rolled and washed toward the shore. Through the windows, the curtains fluttered, as though someone were watching them.

  "All right," she finally said, breaking the silence. "Your turn. What's your story?"

  "I'm a volleyball player slash grease monkey slash aquarium volunteer."

  He heard her laugh again, liking its unfettered energy. It felt contagious.

  "Are you okay if I stay with you for a while?"

  "It's a public beach."

  He motioned toward the house. "Do you need to tell your dad I'm out here?"

  "I'm sure he already knows you're here," she said. "Last night, he must have checked on me every other minute."

  "He sounds like a good dad."

  She seemed to consider something before shaking her head. "So you love volleyball, huh?"

  "It keeps me in shape."

  "That doesn't really answer the question."

  "I enjoy it. I don't know if I love it, though."

  "But you do like crashing into people, right?"

  "That depends on who I crash into. But a few days ago, I guess I'd have to say it turned out pretty well."

  "You think drenching me is a good thing?"

  "If I hadn't soaked you, I might not be here now."

  "And I could be enjoying a quiet, peaceful night at the beach instead."

  "I don't know." He smiled. "Quiet, peaceful nights are overrated."

  "I guess I'm not going to find out tonight, huh?"

  He laughed. "Where do you go to school?"

  "I don't," she said. "I graduated a couple of weeks ago. You?"

  "I just graduated from Laney High School. It's where Michael Jordan went."

  "I'll bet everyone in your high school says that."

  "No," he corrected. "Not everyone. Just the ones who graduated."

  She rolled her eyes. "All right. So what's next for you? Are you going to keep working for your dad?"

  "Just through the summer." He scooped up some sand and let it slip through his fingers.

  "And then?"

  "I'm afraid I can't tell you."

  "No?"

  "I don't know you well enough to trust you with that information."

  "How about a hint?" she prodded.

  "How about you go first? What's next for you?"

  She thought about it. "I'm strongly considering a career in guarding turtle nests. I seem to have a knack for it. I mean, you should have seen the way that raccoon took off. It was like it thought I was the Terminator."

  "You sound like Scott," he said. Seeing her blank expression, he explained. "He's my volleyball partner, and the guy is the king of movie references. It's like he can't complete a sentence without one of them. Of course, he usually works some sexual innuendo in as well."

  "That sounds like a special talent."

  "Oh, it is. I could get him to give you a personal demonstration."

  "No, thank you. I don't need any sexual innuendos."

  "You might like it."

  "I think not."

  He held her gaze as they bantered, noting that she was prettier than he remembered. Funny and smart, too, which was even better.

  Near the nest, saw grass bent in the breeze and the steady sound of the waves surrounded them, making him feel as if they were in a cocoon. Up and down the beach, lights glowed in the oceanfront houses.

  "Can I ask you a question?"

  "I'm not sure I could stop you."

  He pushed his feet back and forth in the sand. "What's with you and Blaze?"

  In the silence, she stiffened slightly. "What do you mean?"

  "I was just wondering why you were hanging out with her the other night."

&
nbsp; "Oh," she said. Though he had no idea why, she seemed relieved. "Actually, we met when she spilled my soda on me. Right after I finished cleaning up what you did."

  "You're kidding."

  "Nope. As far as I can tell, dumping soda on people is the equivalent of 'Hi, it's nice to meet you' in this part of the world. Frankly, I think standard greetings work better, but what do I know?" She drew a long breath. "Anyway, she seemed cool and I didn't know anyone else, so we just... ended up hanging out for a while."

  "Did she stay here with you last night?"

  She shook her head. "No."

  "What? Didn't she want to save the turtles? Or at least keep you company?"

  "I didn't tell her about this."

  He could tell she didn't want to say more, so he let it drop. Instead, he motioned to the beach.

  "Do you want to go for a walk?"

  "Do you mean a romantic walk, or just a walk?"

  "I'm going to say... just a walk."

  "Good choice." She clapped her hands together. "But just so you know, I don't want to go too far, being that the aquarium volunteers weren't concerned about the raccoon and the eggs are still exposed."

  "They were definitely concerned. I have it on good authority that an aquarium volunteer is helping to guard the nest right now."

  "Yes," she said. "But the real question is why?"

  They walked the beach in the direction of the pier, passing a dozen oceanfront mansions, each with massive decks and staircases that led down to the beach. A few houses down, one of the neighbors was hosting a small gathering; all the lights on the third floor were on, and three or four couples leaned against the railing, watching the moonlit waves.

  They didn't talk much, but for some reason, the silence didn't feel uncomfortable. Ronnie kept just enough distance so they wouldn't accidentally brush against each other, sometimes studying the sand and at other times staring ahead. There were moments when he thought he saw a fleeting smile cross her features, as though she remembered a humorous story she hadn't yet shared with him. Every now and then, she stopped and bent over to retrieve seashells that were half-buried in the sand, and he noted her concentration as she examined them in the moonlight before tossing most of them aside. The others she slipped into her pocket.

  There was so much he didn't know about her--in many ways she remained a cipher to him. In that, she was the complete opposite of Ashley. Ashley was nothing if not safe and predictable; he knew thoroughly what he was getting, even if it wasn't what he really wanted. But Ronnie was different, no doubt about it, and when she offered him an unguarded and unexpected smile, he had the sense she was intuiting his thoughts. The realization warmed him, and when they finally turned around and made their way back toward their spot near the turtle nest, there was an instant when he imagined himself walking beside her on the beach each and every night into a distant future.

  *

  When they reached the house, Ronnie went inside to talk to her dad while Will unpacked his truck. He set up his bedroll and supplies on the side of the turtle nest, wishing Ronnie could have stayed near the nest with him. But she'd already told him there wasn't a chance that her dad would agree. At the very least, though, he was glad she'd be able to sleep in her own bed tonight.

  Getting comfortable, he lay down, thinking that today had been a start, if nothing else. Anything might happen from here. But when she turned, smiling as she waved a final good night from the porch, he felt something leap inside at the notion that she just might imagine it was the beginning of something, too.

  "Who's the stiff?"

  "Nobody. Just a friend. Go away."

  As the words drifted through the hazy corridors of his mind, Will struggled to remember where he was. Squinting into the sun, he realized he was face-to-face with a little boy.

  "Oh, hey," Will mumbled.

  The boy rubbed his nose. "What are you doing here?"

  "Waking up."

  "I can see that. But what were you doing here last night?"

  Will smiled. The kid acted as serious as a coroner, which seemed comical given his age and stature. "Sleeping."

  "Uh-huh."

  Will pushed back, giving himself room to sit up, and noticed Ronnie standing off to the side. She was dressed in a black T-shirt and torn jeans and wore the same amused expression he'd seen the night before.

  "I'm Will," he offered. "And you are?"

  The boy nodded toward Ronnie. "I'm her roommate," he said. "We go back a long way."

  Will scratched his head, smiling. "I see."

  Ronnie took a step forward, her hair still damp from her shower. "This is my nosy brother, Jonah."

  "Oh?" Will asked.

  "Yeah," Jonah answered. "Except for the nosy part."

  "Good to know."

  Jonah continued to stare at him. "I think I know you."

  "I don't think so. I feel like I would have remembered meeting you."

  "No, I do remember," Jonah said, beginning to smile. "You were the guy who told the police officer that Ronnie went to Bower's Point!"

  The memory of that night came surging back, and Will turned to Ronnie, watching with dread as her expression changed from curiosity to puzzlement and finally to understanding.

  Oh, no.

  Jonah was still going on. "Yeah, Officer Pete brought her home, and she and Dad had this big fight the next morning..."

  Will saw Ronnie's mouth tighten. Muttering, she turned and stormed into the house.

  Jonah stopped in midsentence, wondering what he'd said.

  "Thanks for that," Will growled, then hopped to his feet and sprinted after Ronnie.

  "Ronnie! Wait! C'mon. I'm sorry! I didn't mean for you to get into trouble."

  He reached for her arm as he caught up with her. When his fingers grazed her T-shirt, she whirled to face him.

  "Go away!"

  "Just listen to me for a second--"

  "You and I have nothing in common!" she snapped. "Get it?"

  "Then what was last night about?"

  Her cheeks were red. "Leave. Me. Alone."

  "Your act doesn't work on me," he said. For some reason, his words kept her quiet long enough to go on. "You stopped the fight, even though everyone else wanted blood. You were the only one who even noticed the kid who started to cry, and I saw the way you smiled when he went off with his mom. You read Tolstoy in your spare time. And you like sea turtles."

  Though she raised her chin defiantly, he sensed he'd struck a nerve. "So what?"

  "So I want to show you something today." He paused, relieved that she didn't immediately say no. But she hadn't said yes, either, and before she could decide one way or the other, he took a small step forward.

  "You'll like it," he said. "I promise."

  Will pulled into the empty parking lot of the aquarium and followed a small service drive that led around back. Ronnie sat beside him in the truck but hadn't said much on the drive over. As he walked her toward the employees entrance, he could tell that even though she'd agreed to come, she hadn't yet made up her mind about whether or not to still be angry with him.

  He held open the door for her, feeling the cool draft as it mingled with the hot, humid air outside. He led her down a long corridor, then pushed through yet another door that led into the aquarium itself.

  There were a handful of people working in their offices, although the aquarium wouldn't open to the public for another hour. Will loved being here before it opened; the dim lights from the tanks and absence of sound made it feel like a secret hideaway. Often, he would find himself mesmerized by the poisoned spines of the lionfish as they moved in saltwater loops, skimming the glass. He wondered whether they realized their habitat had shrunk in size, and if they even knew he was there.

  Ronnie walked next to him, observing the activity. She seemed content to stay quiet as they passed a massive ocean tank, home to a smaller replica of a sunken German submarine from World War II. When they reached the tank of slowly undulating jellyfish that gl
owed fluorescent beneath a black light, she stopped and touched the glass in wonder.

  "Aurelia aurita," Will said. "Also known as moon jellies."

  She nodded, returning her gaze to the tank, transfixed by their slow-motion movement. "They're so delicate," she said. "It's hard to believe the stings can be so painful."

  Her hair had dried curlier than it had the day before, making her appear a bit like an unruly tomboy.

  "Tell me about it. I think I've been stung at least once a year since I was a kid."

  "You should try to avoid them."

  "I do. But they find me anyway. I think they're attracted to me."

  She smiled faintly, then turned and faced him directly. "What are we doing here?"

  "I told you I wanted to show you something."

  "I've seen fish before. And I've been to an aquarium, too."

  "I know. But this is special."

  "Because no one else is here?"

  "No," he answered. "Because you're going to see something that the public doesn't see."

  "What? You and me alone near a fish tank?"

  He grinned. "Even better. C'mon."

  In a situation like this, he normally wouldn't hesitate to take a girl's hand, but he couldn't bring himself to try it with her. He motioned with his thumb toward a corner hallway, tucked neatly away so as to be practically unnoticeable. At the end of the hallway, he paused before the door.

  "Don't tell me they gave you an office," she teased.

  "No," he said, pushing open the door. "I don't work here, remember? I'm just a volunteer."

  They entered a large cinder-block room crisscrossed by air ducts and dozens of exposed pipes. Fluorescent lights hummed overhead, but the sound was drowned out by the enormous water filters that lined the far wall. A giant open tank, filled nearly to the top with ocean water, lent the air a tang of salt and brine.

  Will led the way onto a steel-grated platform that circled the tank and climbed down the industrial steps. On the far side of the tank was a medium-size Plexiglas window. The lights above provided enough illumination to make out the slowly moving creature.

  He watched Ronnie as she eventually recognized what she was seeing.

  "Is that a sea turtle?"

  "A loggerhead, actually. Her name is Mabel."

  As the turtle glided past the window, the scars on her shell became apparent, as did the missing flipper.

  "What happened to her?"

  "She was hit by a boat propeller. She was rescued about a month ago, barely alive. A specialist from NC State had to amputate part of her front flipper."