Page 79 of The Last Thing You Said

“You want to know what I think, Ben?” Hannah finally says, frowning. “I haven’t even known Lucy for a year, but she’s the most loyal person I’ve ever met and she loves like crazy. She’d do anything for someone she loves.”

I’m with her so far.

“Even if it’s someone who’s a complete asshole to her and says awful things. You’ve gotta stop hurting her.” The air leaves my lungs, deflates me. “Just stop.”

She knows. Hannah knows.

Guthrie comes back downstairs with a pizza. He offers me a slice, but I wave him away.

I have no appetite. I sit here and drink beer and when I close my eyes, I see Lucy, loyal and loving like crazy. I see her, us, like we’re in a movie, sitting in my Firebird and it’s raining and I lean over and turn her face toward me and I kiss her. I kiss her like I mean it.

That kiss, it meant something.

Hannah’s right. I’ve been a complete asshole. I said awful things.

But how could she still love me, be loyal to me, after how I’ve treated her?

How will she ever forgive me?

42 · Lucy

Daniel helped me get to Hannah’s party, and now I wish I’d stayed home.

Story Lake Road is narrow and twisty, about fifteen miles west of town off County Road 27. The road hugs the edge of Story Lake on one side and Papyrus Lake on the other. The Guthries live out at the end at the channel, where the lakes meet, in a gorgeous Victorian-style home that looks like something out of a film. The huge backyard slopes down to a rocky beach that’s packed with people from school.

Simon is clingy. He reaches for my hand, puts an arm around my waist.

This is the first time we’ve seen each other in days.

Hannah thinks I should break up with him tonight. “It ain’t a party till something gets broke,” she said.

“I’ve missed you.” Simon kisses my forehead. “What do you want to drink?”

Before I can answer, Hannah calls out, “Lucille, do one more shot with me. Please? Pretty please? For my birthday?”

I shrug at Simon and follow Hannah to the kitchen. The amber liquor bites and cuts, like swallowing hot glass. I gasp and she hands me another glass, something purple and sweet that cools the fire. She squeezes my hand. She’s grinning and off-kilter.

“Darlin’,” she says, her twang intensified by the booze, “I love you so much. So much. You are the world’s greatest friend, Lucy Lucille, and don’t you ever forget it. You are special. And don’t let anyone—not a single one of these assholes here—tell you any different.”

She hugs me and then squeals when Guthrie walks into the kitchen. “Isn’t he the cutest?” she whispers. She grabs his hand, winks at me, and leads him out to the deck.

I find an empty corner in the living room and curl up on a wide armchair with thick, soft cushions. I close my eyes and try to block out the noise of the karaoke from downstairs. I imagine that I’m somewhere else, the sunroom at Trixie’s house or down by the lake, on the beach. In my mind, in the best stretches of my imagination, this summer has not happened. There was no South Dakota. No Simon.

But I know that you can’t wish an entire summer away. I’ve tried.

My mind in its haze shifts. Last August. Hot and humid. I’d stayed at Trixie’s house the night before. When I woke up, Jane was in the kitchen with fresh scones and English breakfast tea. She and I ate in the sunroom and waited for Trixie and Ben to wake up. When Trixie joined us she was dressed in her swimsuit, a pair of Halcyon Lake track shorts, and flip-flops. Her hair sat in a high bun on the top of her head. Ben, though, came down in his pajamas—an old camo Cabela’s T-shirt with a frayed hem and plaid sleep pants. His curly hair stood out in every direction and he smiled when he saw me. A beautiful, content smile that hinted at something else. Something more.

“You going to the beach today?” he asked Trixie. He sat down next to her and reached over her plate for a scone.

She nodded. “Sullivan Street. Gonna go early and snag the swim raft.”

“Maybe I’ll text Clayton and we’ll come, too.”

“Whatever,” Trixie said, and poured a cup of tea.

Jane patted Trixie’s hand. And I’ll never forget what she said.

“I’m the luckiest mum on the planet, you know, that the two of you get along so well.”