The Last Song Page 21

  He did his best to keep a straight face, but it was too hard. When she looked up, she caught his expression.

  "Stop smirking. It's not funny."

  "Yes, it is... I mean, there must be twenty little kids and their parents out here, doing the same thing we are."

  "It's not my fault if their parents lack common sense."

  "Do you want to go back?"

  "No, it's fine," she said. "You've already lured me out here into the middle of the infestation. I might as well put up with it."

  "You do know we've been walking the beach a lot lately."

  "I know. So again, thank you for bringing the flashlight and ruining the memories."

  "Fine," he said, turning it off.

  She dug her nails into his arm. "What are you doing? Turn it back on!"

  "You've made it perfectly clear you don't like the flashlight."

  "But if you turn it off, then I won't see them!"

  "Right."

  "Which means they might be surrounding me right now. Turn it back on," she pleaded.

  He did, and as they started down the beach, he laughed. "One day, I'm going to figure you out."

  "I don't think so. If you haven't done it yet, it just might be beyond you."

  "That could be true," he admitted. He draped an arm around her. "You still haven't told me if you're going to come to my sister's wedding."

  "That's because I haven't decided yet."

  "I want you to meet Megan. She's great."

  "It's not your sister I'm worried about. I just don't think your mom wants me to come."

  "So? It's not her wedding. My sister wants you there."

  "You've talked to her about me?"

  "Of course."

  "What did you say?"

  "The truth."

  "That you think I'm pasty?"

  He squinted at her. "Are you still thinking about that?"

  "No. I've forgotten all about it."

  He snorted. "Okay, to answer your question. No, I didn't say you were pasty. I said you used to be pasty."

  She elbowed him in the ribs, and he pretended to beg for mercy. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding... I would never say that."

  "What did you tell her, then?"

  He stopped, turning her to face him. "Like I said, I told her the truth. That you're smart and funny and easy to be with and beautiful."

  "Oh, well, that's okay, then."

  "You're not going to say that you love me, too?"

  "I'm not sure I can love such a needy guy," she teased. She slipped her arms around him. "Or you can take that comment as payback for letting crabs run over my toes. Of course I love you."

  They kissed before resuming their walk. They'd almost reached the pier and were about to turn around when they saw Scott, Ashley, and Cassie approaching from the other direction. Ronnie tensed under his arm as Scott veered off to intercept them.

  "There you are, man," Scott called out when he was close. He stopped in front of them. "I've been texting you all night."

  Will drew his arm tighter around Ronnie. "Sorry. I left my phone at Ronnie's. What's up?"

  As he answered, he could feel Ashley staring at Ronnie from a distance.

  "I got calls from five of the teams that are going to be in the tournament, and they want to do some pre-tournament scrimmaging. They're all pretty good, and they want to put a mini-boot camp together to get everyone ready to face Landry and Tyson. Lots of practice, lots of drills, lots of games. We're even thinking about switching up the teams now and then to improve our reaction times, since we all have different styles."

  "When are they coming?"

  "Whenever we're ready, but we were thinking this week."

  "How long are they going to be here?"

  "I don't know. Three or four days? Pretty much right up until the tournament. I know you've got wedding stuff and rehearsals, but we can work around all that."

  He thought again about the fact that his time with Ronnie would soon be coming to an end. "Three or four days?"

  Scott frowned. "Come on, man. This is just what we need to do to get ready."

  "Don't you think we're ready now?"

  "What's gotten into you? You know how many coaches from the West Coast are coming to watch the tournament." He pointed a finger at Will. "You might not need a volleyball scholarship to go to college, but I do. And this is the only chance they'll get to see me play."

  Will hesitated. "Let me think about it, okay?"

  "You want to think about it?"

  "I have to talk to my dad first. I can't just agree to take off work for four days on such short notice without asking him. And I don't think you can, either."

  Scott glanced at Ronnie. "Are you sure that work is what this is all about?"

  Will recognized the challenge but didn't want to get into it with Scott right then. Scott, too, seemed to think better of it and took a step back. "All right, fine. Talk to your dad. Whatever," he said. "Maybe you'll find a way to squeeze it into your schedule."

  With that he turned away, walking off without a backward glance. Will, unsure what else to do, started leading Ronnie back to her house. They were out of earshot of Scott when Ronnie wrapped her arm around his waist and asked, "Was he talking about the tournament you told me about?"

  Will nodded. "Next weekend. The day after my sister's wedding."

  "On a Sunday?"

  He nodded. "It's a two-day tournament, but the women play on Saturday."

  Ronnie thought about that. "And he needs a volleyball scholarship to go to college?"

  "It would definitely help."

  She pulled him to a stop. "Then make time for this boot camp thing. Practice and drill. Do whatever you have to do to get ready. He's your friend, right? We'll still find time to be together. Even if both of us have to sit out by the turtle nest. I can go to work tired."

  As she spoke, Will could only think how beautiful she was and how much he was going to miss her.

  "What's going to happen to us, Ronnie? At the end of the summer?" He searched her face.

  "You're going to go to college," Ronnie answered, looking away. "And I'll go back to New York."

  He tilted her face up to his. "You know what I mean."

  "Yes," she said, "I know perfectly what you mean. But I don't know what you want me to say. I don't know what either of us can say."

  "How about, I don't want it to end?"

  Her eyes were sea green, tender in apology. "I don't want it to end," she repeated softly.

  Though it was what he'd wanted to hear and she obviously meant it, he realized what she'd already known: that speaking the words, even if true, had little power to change the inevitable or even make him feel much better.

  "I'm going to come to New York to visit," he promised.

  "I hope you do."

  "And I want you to come to Tennessee."

  "I suppose I could handle another trip down south if I had a good reason to go."

  He smiled as they began moving down the beach. "I'll tell you what. I'll do everything Scott wants to get ready for the tournament if you agree to come with me to my sister's wedding."

  "In other words, you're going to do what you should be doing anyway, and in exchange, you get what you want."

  It wasn't quite the way he would have phrased it. But she had a point. "Yeah," he said, "I guess that's it."

  "Anything else? Since you're driving such a hard bargain?"

  "Now that you mention it, there is. I want you to try to talk some sense into Blaze."

  "I've already tried to talk to her."

  "I know, but that was what? Six weeks ago? She's seen us together, so she knows you're not interested in Marcus. And she's had time to get over it."

  "She's not going to tell the truth," Ronnie countered. "That means she'd get in trouble."

  "How? What would she be charged with? The point is, I don't want you to get in trouble for something you didn't do. The owner isn't listening, the DA isn't listening, and I'm not saying
that Blaze is going to listen, either, but I don't see what other choice you have if you want to get out from under this thing."

  "It's not going to work," Ronnie insisted.

  "Maybe not. But I think it's worth a try. I've known her a long time, and she wasn't always like this. Maybe there's still something deep down inside her that knows she's doing the wrong thing and all she needs is a good reason to try to make it better."

  Though she didn't agree, she didn't disagree, either, and they walked back toward the house in relative silence. When they got close, Will could see light flooding out the open door of the workshop.

  "Is your dad still working on the window tonight?"

  "It looks that way," she said.

  "May I see it?"

  "Why not?"

  Together, they headed toward the ramshackle building. Once inside, Will saw a bare light bulb dangling from an extension cord, over a large worktable in the center of the room.

  "I guess he's not here," Ronnie said, looking around.

  "Is that the window?" Will asked, approaching the worktable. "It's huge."

  Ronnie moved to his side. "It's amazing, isn't it? It's for the church they're rebuilding down the street."

  "You didn't tell me that." His voice sounded strained, even to his own ears.

  "I didn't think it was important," she said automatically. "Why? Is it important?"

  Will forced his mind away from images of Scott and the fire. "Not really," he said quickly, pretending to inspect the glass. "I just didn't realize your dad had the ability to make something so intricate."

  "I didn't either. Neither did he, until he started, anyway. But he told me it was important to him, so maybe that has something to do with it."

  "Why was it so important to him?"

  As Ronnie related the story her dad had told her, Will stared at the window, remembering what Scott had done. And, of course, what he hadn't done. She must have seen something in his face because when she finished, she seemed to be studying him.

  "What are you thinking about?"

  He ran his hand over the glass before he answered. "Do you ever wonder what it means to be a friend?"

  "I'm not sure what you mean."

  He looked over at her. "How far would you go to protect a friend?"

  She hesitated. "I suppose that depends on what the friend did. And how serious it was." She put a hand on his back. "What aren't you telling me?"

  When he didn't answer, she scooted closer to him. "In the end, you should always do the right thing, even if it's hard. I know that might not help you and that the right thing isn't always so easy to figure out. At least on the surface, anyway. But even when I was justifying to myself that stealing was no big deal, I knew it was wrong. It was making me feel... dark inside." She brought her face close to his, and he caught the scent of sand and sea on her skin. "I didn't fight the charges because something inside me knew that what I'd been doing was wrong. Some people can live with that, as long as they get away with it. They see shades of gray where I see black and white. But I'm not that kind of person... and I don't think you are, either."

  Will's gaze slid away from hers. He wanted to tell her, longed to tell her everything since he knew she was right, but he couldn't seem to find the words. She understood him in ways that no one else ever had. He could learn from her, he thought. He would be a better person with her by his side. In many ways, he needed her. When he forced himself to nod, she rested her head against his shoulder.

  When they finally left the shed, he reached out to stop her before she headed back to her house. He pulled her close and began to kiss her. First her lips, then her cheek, and then her neck. Her skin was like fire, as if she'd been lying in the sun for hours, and when he kissed her lips again, he felt her fold her body into his. He buried his hands in her hair, continuing to kiss her as he slowly backed her against the wall of the workshop. He loved her, he wanted her, and as they continued to kiss, he could feel her arms moving over his back and shoulders. Her touch was electric against his skin, her breath hot against his, and he felt himself slipping away to a place governed only by his senses.

  His hands were roving over her back and stomach when he finally felt Ronnie place her hands on his chest and push him away.

  "Please," she breathed, "we've got to stop."

  "Why?"

  "Because I don't want my dad to catch us. He might be watching us from the window right now."

  "We're just kissing."

  "Yeah. And we just sort of like each other, too." She laughed.

  A languid smile spread over his face. "What? We weren't just kissing?"

  "I'm just saying that it felt like... what we were doing was leading up to something more," she said, straightening her shirt.

  "And the problem is?"

  Her expression told him to stop playing games, and he knew she had a point, even if it wasn't what he wanted. "You're right." He sighed, dropping his hands into a loose circle around her waist. "I'll try to control myself."

  She kissed him on the cheek. "I have complete confidence in you."

  "Gee, thanks," he groaned.

  She winked. "I'm going to go check on my dad, okay?"

  "Okay. I've got to be at work early tomorrow anyway."

  She smiled. "Too bad. I don't have to be at work until ten."

  "Are they still having you feed the otters?"

  "They'd starve without me. I'm pretty much indispensable now."

  He laughed. "Have I told you that I think you're a keeper?"

  "I don't think anyone's ever said that to me. But just so you know, you're not so bad to have around, either."

  24

  Ronnie

  Ronnie watched Will walk off before making her way back to the house, thinking about the things he'd said and wondering if he was right about Blaze. The upcoming court date had been weighing on her all summer: She sometimes wondered whether the anticipation of the possible punishment was worse than the punishment itself. As the weeks had rolled by, she'd been waking up in the middle of the night and finding it impossible to go back to sleep. It wasn't that she was terrified of going to prison--she doubted that she'd be locked up--but she fretted that these crimes would follow her forever. Would she have to reveal her history to a college she might attend? Did she have to tell her future employers? Would she be able to get a job teaching? She didn't know whether she'd attend college or even wanted to become a teacher, but the fear remained. Would this haunt her forever?

  Her lawyer didn't think so, but she wouldn't promise anything.

  And the wedding. It was easy for Will to ask her to come, to assume it was no big deal. But she knew that Susan didn't want her there, and the last thing she wanted was to be some sort of distraction. This was supposed to be Megan's day.

  Reaching the back porch, she was about to step inside when she heard the rocking chair squeak. She jumped back in terror, only to see Jonah watching her.

  "That. Was. So. Gross."

  "What are you doing out here?" she demanded, her heart still racing.

  "Watching you and Will. Like I said, that was really gross." He made a point to shiver.

  "You were spying on us?"

  "It was kind of hard not to. You were right there by the workshop with Will. It looked like he was practically squishing you to death."

  "He wasn't," Ronnie assured him.

  "I'm just saying how it looked."

  She smiled. "You'll understand when you're a little older."

  Jonah shook his head. "I understand exactly what you were doing. I've seen movies. I just think it's gross."

  "You've already said that," she pointed out.

  That seemed to stop him for a second. "Where's he going?"

  "Home. He's got to work tomorrow."

  "Are you going to watch the turtle nest tonight? Because you don't have to. Dad said that we could watch it tonight."

  "You convinced Dad to sleep outside?"

  "He wants to. He thinks it'll be fun
."

  I doubt it, she thought. "It's fine with me."

  "I've already got my stuff ready. Sleeping bag, lantern, juices, sandwiches, a box of Ritz crackers, marshmallows, potato chips, cookies, and a tennis racket."

  "You're going to play tennis?"

  "In case the raccoon comes. You know. If it tries to attack us."

  "It's not going to attack you."

  "Really?" He sounded almost disappointed.

  "Well, maybe it is a good idea," Ronnie agreed. "Just in case. You never know."

  He scratched his head. "That's what I thought, too."

  She pointed toward the workshop. "The window looks beautiful, by the way."

  "Thanks," Jonah said. "Dad wants to make sure every single piece is perfect. He makes me do some pieces two or three times. But I'm getting pretty good."

  "It looks like it."

  "But it gets hot. Especially when he runs the kiln. It's like an oven."

  It is an oven, she thought. But she didn't correct him. "That's too bad. How's the whole cookie war going?"

  "It's fine. I just have to eat them when he's napping."

  "Dad doesn't nap."

  "He does now. Every afternoon, for a couple of hours. Sometimes I have to shake him pretty hard to wake him up."

  She stared at her brother before peering through the window into the house. "Where is Dad, by the way?"

  "He's at the church. Pastor Harris came by earlier. He's been coming by a lot lately. Him and Dad like to talk."

  "They're friends."

  "I know. But I think he just used that as an excuse. I think Dad went to play the piano."

  "What piano?" Ronnie asked, puzzled.

  "It got delivered to the church last week. Dad's been going over there to play."

  "He has, huh?"

  "Hold on," he said. "I'm not sure I was supposed to tell you that. Maybe you should forget I said it."

  "Why shouldn't you tell me?"

  "Because you might yell at him again."

  "I'm not going to yell at him," Ronnie protested. "When was the last time I yelled at him?"

  "When he was playing the piano. Remember?"

  Oh, yeah, she thought. The kid had an amazing memory. "Well, I'm not going to yell at him."

  "Good. Because I don't want you to yell at him. We're supposed to go to Fort Fisher tomorrow, and I want him to be in a good mood."

  "How long has he been at the church?"

  "I don't know. It feels like hours. That's why I was out here. I was waiting for him. And then you showed up with Will and started making out."