Seeing her like that had me loosing a sigh, the tension in my shoulders ebbing.
Two hours passed on that drive, both of us silent and listening to the music. Finally, we drove slowly through Mission Valley and Pacific Beach before winding up through Bird Rock toward La Jolla. We both rolled our windows down, B hanging her hand out the window and surfing the air waves as the heat still blasted high enough to keep us both from freezing.
I pulled into a parking space, cutting the engine and hopping out without a word. I grabbed the large bag I’d packed from my trunk, and then I started walking.
B didn’t even ask where we were, she just followed.
I wound us through a few small houses and a grove before walking onto a small, secluded beach. It was a hidden spot, public — though, from how close it was to the elaborate houses on its edge, most people assumed it was private property.
I pulled a thick blanket out of the bag I’d packed, laying it out on the beach before I took a seat. I glanced back up at B, pulling out a second blanket for her to cover up with and patting the spot next to me.
She peeled off her boots and plopped down beside me, and I covered us both with the blanket, our shared warmth easing the bite of the cool wind.
“What would you do if everything you had planned for your future went up in flames and there was nothing you could do about it?”
B was leaning back on her hands, her eyes on the ocean, and she shifted a bit. “Find a new future, I suppose.”
“What if there wasn’t one?”
She hugged her thighs to her chest then, resting her cheek on her knees as she turned to look at me.
God, the way that girl looked at me.
Her eyes shone in the moonlight, and those gray pools were an ocean all their own. “What’s going on, Jamie?”
I swallowed. “Things have been hard, you know? I mean, we’re in college, but we’re not too dumb to see how the economy is suffering right now. But I never thought it would directly affect me. I think we’re at that age where we just feel invincible, like nothing can touch us, but it can.” I shook my head, picking at the strings on the edge of our blanket. “My dad’s firm is going under. It’s going fast. And I’m here, in California, in fucking college, powerless to do anything to save it, yet depending on it all the same.”
Her hand moved for mine so quickly, so naturally, like that’s right where it belonged.
I turned my palm up to meet hers, lacing our fingers together, holding on tight like she was the gravity that held me steady.
“How bad is it?”
“Bad,” I croaked.
She leaned her head on my shoulder, that citrus scent finding me once again.
“But is there a chance it’ll be okay?”
I shrugged. “I guess there’s always a chance.”
“So focus on that,” she said. “Jamie, your father built that firm. It’s been a part of him since he was twenty-six years old. He’s put blood, sweat, and tears into it. Do you think a little recession is going to kill his dream? His baby?”
I frowned, considering her point.
“No way,” she answered for me. “Because the Shaw’s are fighters. When you see something you want — truly want — you go after it. All of you. And your dad is going to find a way to keep the firm alive. There is no other option for him.”
“It’s not that simple,” I argued. “There’s less of a need for high-end accountants when businesses are tanking. The few clients they have left are seeking out cheaper options, if not battling their own demise.”
“Okay, but this recession isn’t going to last forever. If your dad can just hold on—”
“And what if he doesn’t, B?”
I turned to her then, hating how frustrated I sounded — but it was exactly how I felt. And I knew I didn’t have to hide that, not with her.
“What then?”
“Then he starts over, Jamie.” She sat up straighter to face me, too. “And so do you. And you figure it out. Because that’s what life’s about. It’s about paddling out and fighting the waves until you find the perfect one to ride home on.”
“I don’t know if I could start over,” I admitted, my heart cracking with the thought of it.
B moved until she sat in front of me, wanting all of my attention.
Like she didn’t already have it.
Like it wouldn’t always belong to her.
“Don’t you remember what I told you Christmas Eve when we were in high school?”
My frown ebbed, and I nodded.
“I meant it then, I mean it even more now. You’re only a sophomore in college, and already you’ve done two internships and started preparing for your Certified Public Accountant examination, which you don’t even need to think about until grad school. You’re acing your classes and building a network by attending all those fancy events downtown. You’re doing it, Jamie. You’re making your own dreams come true, just like your dad did. This recession will pass, and you’ll come out on top no matter what because that’s just who you are.”
The more she spoke, the more my heart calmed, the beat of it finding a steady rhythm.
How is it this girl believes in me this much?
“You’re right,” I said with a determined sigh. “I can do this.”
“You can,” she said, squeezing my hands in hers.
That squeeze hit me somewhere so deep, the light couldn’t reach.
“I’m not going to lie and say that I’m not scared,” I added. “But I believe you when you say I can do it. I believe you when you say it will be okay.”
“Good. Because I’m right, like, ninety-seven percent of the time.”
I gave her a small smile.
“I think I’m going to go home this summer, try to help my dad turn it around.”
“You should. It’d be a great experience for you, and I know your dad would love having you around.”
“Would you come with me?”
The words flew out of my mouth before I could think better of them. I meant them — God, I meant them — but I knew by the way her eyes widened that I was stupid for voicing them out loud.
She pulled her hands away from mine, and my nose flared at the loss.
“I don’t know what my plans are for the summer yet. But you’ll be fine without me.”
“You’ve been pulling back lately,” I whispered.
She shook her head, staring at her hands in her lap.
“You have. Don’t lie to me.”
“I never could.”
“So then tell me what’s going on.”
She sighed. “Ethan feels threatened by you, I think.”
I tried to act surprised — but really, it was just affirmation of what I already knew.
“That’s the wrong word,” she backtracked. “He just… I don’t know. He feels like he has to compete with you. And I hate that I made him feel that way. I just need to focus on my relationship with him, and I can’t do that if he sees me spending all my time with another man.”
“But we’re us,” I reminded her. “It’s always been us.”
“Has it?” she argued, looking up at me through her dark lashes.