“It’s definitely weird.” Chloe sighs, stretching her legs out in front of her. “But you should see Amber—Dr. Holt—she’s amazing. She cares so much about every single animal who comes in, and she has a sliding scale for people who can’t afford pet care. She volunteers at the rescue clinic. She’s incredibly kind. When we had to put Percy to sleep—that was our old golden retriever—she sent us a sympathy card and a bouquet of flowers.”
“That’s really nice.” Bea remembers Chloe coming to class red-eyed after Percy died.
“Yeah. When we took Athena for her first puppy checkup, I asked Dr. Holt about interning for her this summer. My dad was pissed. He and Mom were expecting me to work at the inn, like always. He wanted me to back out of my internship with Amber—and usually Dad is super firm about not going back on my word. He thinks I just want to slack off and play with puppies this summer. I mean, I do want to play with puppies, but it’s not slacking off. It’s hard work. And I love it.”
Bea looks at the mix of exhilaration and anxiety on Chloe’s face. It feels familiar. “That’s cool,” she says. “Are you…maybe rethinking your plan?”
Chloe nods without looking at her. “Penn is one of the best veterinary schools in the country too. Super competitive.”
Bea laughs. “Wait, how long have you been thinking about this? Do your parents know?”
“A while,” Chloe admits, meeting her eyes. “Amber is super inspiring, but I did all my community service at the animal rescue, and I really loved that too.” Bea remembers. She was a little jealous of Chloe; she did her one hundred hours scanning and archiving ancient issues of the Gazette. “I haven’t told my parents yet. It meant so much to them that I wanted to go into the family business, you know? We’ve been planning that for ages. I decided I was going to help turn the inn into a franchise back when I was twelve, when we went on a trip to St. Michaels. But I was twelve. I’m not the same person now. I don’t want the same things. Does that make sense?”
“It definitely makes sense to me.” Bea’s mind is whirring. “I think it’s brave to pursue a career you love, especially when it’s not what your parents expect.”
“Well, I haven’t done the hardest part: telling them. But thank you.” Chloe smiles. “What about you? Still excited about Georgetown?”
“I’ve been—um. I’ve been kind of wondering whether Georgetown is still the right move for me, actually.” Bea feels an incredible relief from saying it. She turns to Chloe, expecting her to—she doesn’t know—drop dead from shock or something.
Chloe nods, tucking a stray hair back into her bun. “I’ve wondered.”
“You have? How?” Bea whisper-shrieks.
“I’ve known you since kindergarten, Bea. Sometime this spring, you started to get this…look when someone asked you about Georgetown. Like you were stuck in a mousetrap. Super panicky. I knew the feeling.” Chloe gives a sympathetic grimace. “Did you apply anywhere else?”
“Nope. Just Georgetown, early action.”
Chloe winces. “Does Erik know?”
Bea shakes her head. She is grateful that Chloe doesn’t assume of course Erik knows. That Chloe isn’t judging her.
“Are you guys okay?” Chloe asks.
Bea shakes her head again. She can’t bring herself to say the words.
“Wow. I—that must be really hard,” Chloe says.
Bea blinks back tears. Chloe is being so nice to her. After all the snarky things Bea has thought—and said!—about her over the years, she doesn’t feel like she deserves this kindness.
She takes a deep breath.
“I think I want to break up,” she whispers, tracing the squares of the Burberry plaid blanket. “Am I a terrible person?”
“No! No. Bea. Hey. Look at me.” Bea lifts her chin. Chloe grabs her hand. “You are not a terrible person. You’re just not the same person you were when you were thirteen, or fifteen, or seventeen. You don’t want the same things. And that’s okay.”
Tears trickle down Bea’s cheeks. She lets them. She is sitting in the park, holding hands with Chloe Chan and crying, and for once, she doesn’t care who sees her. She is profoundly relieved. “Thank you.”
Chloe smiles. “Oh my God, why haven’t we ever actually talked to each other before?”
Bea sniffles. “I don’t know. Can we—will you be my friend?” As soon as she says it, she feels stupid. If Chloe laughs at her, she will die of embarrassment.
Instead, Chloe beams and squeezes her hand. “Hell yeah, I will. Let’s be friends instead of frenemies, Bea Garrett.”
• • •
Bea and Chloe stay at the park till the shadows lengthen and turn to twilight. Then Chloe has to head home and walk the puppy before dinner.
Bea doesn’t want to go home. She’s tired of pretending, but she’s not ready to tell Gram and her sisters the truth. The difference between her and Chloe is that Bea doesn’t know what she wants to do, if not Georgetown. She doesn’t have a plan at all.
How has she—a consummate list-maker, the ultimate goal-oriented girl—found herself with no plan at all? It’s totally anxiety inducing. Thinking about it makes her stomach tie itself into a knot.
Instead of heading home, Bea finds herself walking toward the marina. Toward the Stella Anne.
She stands on the dock for a long time, weighing the decision. The lamp is on. Gabe is settling down at the table with a box of Sabbatini’s pizza. Bea feels the pull of all of the things she should want, all the things she thought she wanted at thirteen and fifteen and seventeen. And she feels the pull of something new and scary and thrilling, something that could be a mistake—or could be a new beginning.
She steps gingerly onto the deck of the houseboat. Knocks on the open sliding glass door.
“Permission to come aboard?” she calls.
Gabe comes to the door. “Permission granted.” He’s shirtless, barefoot, clad only in a pair of paint-splattered jeans. His dark-blond hair is pulled up into a bun. The sight of him—of his broad, tanned chest and the sharp cut of his hips—makes Bea’s mouth go dry. Makes her stomach flutter and swoop. She feels almost unbearably nervous, like a string stretched too tight.
“Hey.” His smile is ginormous.
He’s happy to see me, she realizes with relief. She was worried he liked Savannah, or had a girlfriend back in Nashville, or maybe just wasn’t attracted to her. But the way he’s looking at her…
“Hey,” she says back, and she’s smiling so wide, she thinks her face might break.