Angeline met him at the lighthouse. Free of his sling for the first time, Leo gingerly clasped his hands in front of his stomach.
“Remember when you couldn’t go up?” Angeline said.
“Only because you like to remind me.”
“We’d already bought the tickets.”
“It was five dollars.”
“Ten, together. But not enough to push you past your fears.”
“Of falling to certain death? My podcast says falls are the second leading cause of accidental deaths in the world. I’d like to think my life is worth more than ten dollars.”
“This with inflation or without?” She grinned, and he gave a crooked smile, and it felt like no time had passed since they’d last been here during Heritage Days. When Leo’s fear of heights meant he couldn’t follow Angeline up to see the view from the top of the white stone lighthouse, which was built in the early 1800s. It was only open a couple of times a year. Fear held him back in the way it never did Angeline.
For the first time, instead of thinking his way was wrong and hers was right, she wondered if there wasn’t something in between.
They walked the circular path, past the monument to the warship that ground just offshore during a blizzard in the 1950s, heading for the long jetty that stretched into the Atlantic. It curved in toward the harbor like an elbow, protecting the shops and homes as best it could. Which was all one could ask, really.
Their words flowed with familiar ease, talking about Ms. Lute’s class and the incident with Olivia and shying away from the election. The whole time she wished she could read him, to know if he was here solely because of Principal Schwartz, because he needed to win or wanted to win or . . . or maybe something else.
The late afternoon sun warmed Angeline’s skin, and she breathed in the sulfur smell of the harbor at low tide. “It’s different here. From Eggshell Beach.” Eggshell was their beach. Which was why she’d chosen to meet him here—more neutral ground.
“Which, I’d like to mention, has a terrifying mountain I’ve repeatedly risked my life to climb.”
“It’s a dune.”
“It’s steep,” he said. “Been since the bonfire?”
“Not much time.” And too many memories.
“Shame.”
“Sweet spot,” they said at the same time.
Leo laughed. “Better that they don’t know.”
“They” being most of their fellow New Englanders who started writing off the summer at the end of August, readying themselves for walls of snow and puffy parkas. All the fuss buzzed about June, July, and August. But the secret that Angeline and Leo shared was that September was the perfect month for beachcombing. Tourists and summer people had packed it in, school and birthday parties and sports practice kept the little kids away, and the ocean was warmer than it ever was in June.
Especially at Eggshell Beach. The curve of the shoreline offered protection from the wind, and the flat, oval rocks that littered the sand and gave the beach its name radiated heat from the sun. Warm enough to lounge on the boulder-sized rock that was their favorite. She could picture its deep green, hear Leo saying how it reminded him of her eyes, feel the tender pressure against her lips as they shared their first kiss. Three Septembers ago.
September was the sweet spot, all right.
“Really is too bad,” Leo said. “I miss looking at the stars.”
“Me too.” Angeline waited for him to say more, like if he missed looking at them with her, but Leo simply pointed to one of the flattest rocks on the jetty about halfway out.
They sat, and Angeline slipped her tote bag off her shoulder. She drew out two pairs of knitted angel wings she’d snagged from Schwartz’s box and set them down as placemats, making Leo laugh. On top, she laid out a container of sushi, a thermos (free with purchase of three pounds of fair-trade coffee beans with the AngelsAreFair promo code!), and two reusable plastic cups.
Leo screwed off the top of the thermos and sniffed. “Riley?”
“Naturally. She’s thinking of going to the juicery with this one. Wants to know what we think.” Angeline set out the sushi, and their arms brushed. Goose bumps. Instantly.
“So, any ideas?” Leo asked, getting down to business. “Or should we follow in George Washington’s footsteps and just spend our entire campaign budgets on booze for the voters?”
“Seriously?”
“It was before he was running for president. Just state legislature.”
“Oh, well, that cleans it all up, then.” She and Leo had made a pact to end the dirty campaigning, but it wouldn’t matter if no one followed their lead. They needed an initiative, one to work on together, to get their classmates to cool it on the whole Battle of the Exes. “Blood drive? Clean the beach?”
“May as well ask them to nap in class,” Leo said.
“Now that would engage them.”
“Would be totally nonpartisan, though. Speaking of, can I really expect Maxine’s voting app to be fair?”
Angeline feigned shock. “Whatever are you suggesting?”
“Uh-huh.”
“It will be. Promise.” She expected him to say something about her promises, but all he said was, “Okay.”
“Okay.” She tilted her cup to taste Riley’s drink. Sweet and savory and felt like fall, the color a mix of yellow and orange and red, like leaves changing color. She felt Leo’s eyes on her as she set down her glass. Lifting her head the barest of inches, she glanced up at him.
He was staring at her. In a good way.
Very, very good.
He quickly looked away, but a grin crept in, and he sipped his drink to cover. His tongue circled his lips in satisfaction, and Angeline pretended that she hadn’t seen what she’d seen. Him looking at her like he did before everything happened.
Leo shifted forward, closing the gap between himself and Angeline. “How about we take a photo? Show Schwartz we’re trying at least.”
“Good idea.” Angeline leaned into him, against him, and her heart beat in her temples. He snapped the photo, set down his phone, and lifted his cup for another sip—then stopped. His cup slipped from his hand, and reddish-orange liquid spurted in the air as it landed with a shallow thud against the rock. His hands clawed toward his throat.
Angeline reached for him. “Are you okay?”
His lips puffed, starting to double in size.
Angeline sucked in a breath. “What’s in this?” She whipped out her phone and voice-activated it to call Riley while she wrapped an arm around Leo’s waist.