One of Us Is Next(90)
I look around. “Is that not what this is?”
“Nah, there’s too many other people. Plus we’ve been stuck inside all day. You know how I feel about inside.”
“You’re unnaturally prejudiced against it, yes. Where would you go instead? If, for example, we decided to do something tomorrow?”
“La Jolla Cove,” he says instantly. “I’d take you kayaking.”
I gulp. Oh God, not the beach. And the ocean. But then again, maybe all that would be different with Luis. A lot of things are. Still, I narrow my eyes at him. “Kayaking? Sounds like work.”
“I’ll do it all,” he promises.
“Is this what dating you is going to be like? You’ll just cart me around various scenic areas in greater San Diego?” It doesn’t sound bad, actually.
He grins. “I’ll teach you how to kayak, if you want. It’s fun, I swear. My family goes all the time in the summer. They’d love for you to come.”
I like the direction of this conversation, but…“I might not be here then,” I say. His eyebrows rise. “I think I’m going to apply to be a counselor at this school in Peru with Addy. If I get accepted, I’d be there all of July and August.”
I’d been thinking about the possibility ever since I saw that brochure at Addy’s apartment, and even more after getting a clean bill of health from Dr. Gutierrez. Last night, when I couldn’t sleep, I tried to count up the positive things that have come out of this horrible experience. Luis, definitely. Becoming friends with Phoebe. Learning that Knox and I will always be able to count on one another. And believing enough in my future to make plans for it.
“Two whole months? Damn.” Here comes Luis’s disappointed face again, until he shakes it off with a regretful smile. “I mean, that sounds great. Obviously. Just make sure you come back.”
“I will. I promise.” Out of the corner of my eye I catch sight of a familiar figure alone at an empty table. I’ve been keeping tabs on Knox, because every once in a while his cheerful fa?ade cracks, and he starts drooping under the weight of last night. Now looks like one of those times. I pull away from Luis and squeeze his arm. “I’m just going to check on Knox, okay? He looks like he could use some company.”
“Sure,” Luis says. I turn to go, but he tugs me back and cups my cheek, bending down to plant a slow, lingering kiss on my lips. My breath catches in my throat, and when he pulls away he’s smiling. “That’s one.”
“Yeah, well. You still have some catching up to do.” I blow him a kiss over my shoulder and head for Knox.
When I reach him he’s standing, a folded napkin in one hand. “Hey,” he says. “I think I’m gonna head out.”
“What? No! The reception just got started.”
“I know, but—I’m wiped.” Knox loosens the knot on his tie and tugs it downward. His hair is messy, his eyes shadowed with dark circles. “It’s been a long day. Plus I thought I’d see how Phoebe’s doing, and bring her some cake.” He lifts the napkin in his hand, and now I notice the pearly white frosting poking through.
“They cut the cake already?” I ask. “How did I miss that?”
“They didn’t,” Knox says. “But one of the servers told me there’s extra in the kitchen in case anyone wants to take some home. She gave me a slice to give to Phoebe.”
“That’s really nice of you.” Impulsively, I step forward and squeeze his free hand. “You’re a good friend, you know that?”
At some point, probably soon, our weird romantic history is going to leak outside of the Bayview gossip circles. The Jared Jackson story is huge, and reporters are already sniffing around for details. Mikhail Powers’s crew has been calling my house nonstop. Mikhail himself even sent a giant bouquet of colorful, exotic flowers with a note: My deepest admiration and respect, always, to the strong young women of the Rojas family.
“Don’t be swayed by his charm,” Bronwyn lectured when I told her. Mikhail Powers has coaxed my sister into interviews more than once. They never go badly, but she always tells herself afterward that she’s not going to do it again. Until she does. “If you do talk to him, though, tell him I said hi.”
I don’t plan on it. But I’ve lived through a media circus before, when Simon died. People won’t rest until every Truth and Dare of the texting game has been exposed and analyzed—including what happened between Knox and me. I’ve made my peace with it, though, and I hope he doesn’t care any more than I do. Neither of us has anything to explain, or be embarrassed about. We’re lucky, that’s all. Beyond lucky to have each other.
He squeezes my hand back with a crooked grin. “So are you.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Knox
Saturday, March 28
Mrs. Lawton greets me at the door, looking like she hasn’t slept in a week. She does her best to rally, though, giving me a wan smile. “Hi, Knox. Don’t you look handsome.”
She doesn’t ask me how the wedding went, and I don’t offer. There are some conversations it’s better not to have when things are this raw. “Thanks.” I can make out the muted sounds of a video game somewhere in the apartment, and I hope Owen doesn’t appear. I can’t pretend to care about Bounty Wars right now. “Is Phoebe around?” I ask.