Chapter Three
Dawn
I had three summer jobs—general duties at the public golf course, waitressing weekend nights at the Sunset Grill by the beach, and stocking the racks at the thrift store in town. The thrift store was my favorite because it gave me a chance to look through the clothes donations before they went out for general consumption; of course, the downside of that was that a lot of the clothes were seriously gross and should have been thrown out instead of donated. The Sunset Grill was my least favorite, but it paid the best. The golf course? Most days it was just sort of there.
But after meeting Logan, the job suddenly had quite a bit more interest. I mean, he was good-looking, but even better than that, he was from out of town. From Montreal, my dream city.
Of course, it’s not like I’d never met anyone from out of town before. Corrigan Falls doesn’t get a lot of people who move here permanently, but we have summer people every year. And my mom and I might not have much else in common but we both loved clothes, so we’d escape down to Toronto to go shopping at least once a season. My history class took a field trip to a museum in Toronto last fall and three of the kids on the trip had never been on an escalator before. They were isolated, not me.
Anyway, meeting Logan made my day at the golf course quite a bit more interesting. Toby and I used to tease his little sister about all her crushes and the cute way she’d stalk them, but I swear, if she’d been there, she’d have been laughing her ass off at my nonsense. I spent half the morning standing by the window, looking out toward the shed. I rehearsed lines, ones way better than my stupid “Corrigan Falls is fake nature” rant. And I took the garbage out even though I hate that job, just because the garbage bins were pretty close to the camp’s storage shed.
But there was no sign of Logan, although I could hear someone shuffling around in with all the clubs.
In desperation, I made two phone calls. The first one made sense, kind of. Most of my gang was down at the draft, but Oliver was a good friend and he didn’t like crowds much so he wouldn’t be at the arena. But my second call? My second call made it absolutely clear just how poorly I was thinking things through. Unfortunately for me, my second call was the person who arrived first.
“You’re all confused on this,” Scott Dakins said as he walked through the door of the pro shop where I was pretending to stock shelves while actually staring out the window. “I think you’re supposed to be calling friends to get advice on how to hook up with me.”
“I already regret calling you. I have no idea what I was thinking.”
“You were thinking I was the only other person in this whole damn town not glued to their TV, watching a bunch of small town hockey hacks sell their souls to teams they may never even play for.”
Well, I wouldn’t have phrased it that way, but he wasn’t completely wrong—one of the few things Scott and I had in common was our mutual disdain for hockey. “Maybe,” I conceded. “But now that you’re here, I’m regretting it. Don’t embarrass me, okay? Don’t do anything to—don’t be Scott Dakins, you know? Just—can you just be Scott?”
“You’ve clearly put a lot of thought into the variations of my persona,” he said smugly. “I’m flattered by the attention.”
“Hey, you know what’s fun at this time of year? The beach! Maybe you should go to the beach. Now!”
His smile was patronizing. “And leave you here to fend for yourself? I couldn’t do that.”
“I’m not actually fending. I’m not even sure he’s still on the premises.”
“But he might be,” Scott mused. “What’s his name, again?”
“I’m not telling you. You’re trying to think of a way to embarrass me. Forget it, no, I was stupid to call you. I have no idea what I was thinking.”
“Logan,” Scott said, and I couldn’t tell if he’d suddenly remembered or if he’d only been pretending to have forgotten. “Sir Logan of the Golf Shed.”
“You’re being weird. Kind of…nerdy. Is this a new trick of yours? Are you trying to— Damn, I honestly can’t even think of what you might be trying to do.”
“Dawn. Sunrise. My Darling Break of Day.” Scott caught my gaze and held it like he sometimes could. And he looked so sincere I pretty much believed him when he said, “I’m trying to be nice. I’m trying to help out a friend. It’s not entirely natural to me so maybe I’m not doing it quite right, but…I’m trying. Okay?”
“That’s exactly what you would say if you were setting up an elaborate trick.”
His grin was bright and charming, and I could see how he managed to attract so many girls who really, really should know better. “Yes, it is.”
Oliver arrived then, looking flushed and excited. “Topher and Toby both went third round! Chris to New York City! The Big Apple! Can you imagine Chris in New York? He’d be, like”—Oliver waved a hand across the air in front of him like he was painting an announcement in the stars—“Chris Winslow, making his Broadway debut in Hockey Star, the musical!”
Scott stepped in behind Oliver and wrapped an arm around his chest, lifting his other arm to mimic Oliver’s pose, and together they stared, rapt, at the imaginary billboard. I could never decide if Scott’s willingness to flirt with everyone, male or female, was a sign of basic decency or absolute sleaziness. But Oliver leaned back into him quite willingly, and they admired Chris Winslow’s imaginary future.
“And Toby?” I asked, trying to sound casual.
“Toronto,” Oliver said without changing his pose. “So that’ll be good for Nat, since she’s going to be there for school.” He gave me a quick look, like he was checking to see if I was upset by the idea of my ex managing to have a good relationship with his current girlfriend. But I was genuinely happy for both of them, and I guess it showed on my face because Oliver was more relaxed as he continued. “Claudia and Chris will be okay—New York’s pretty far from Waterloo, but they’ll figure it out. Karen and Tyler, though?” Oliver made a face. “Karen’s got another year of high school still, and Tyler loose in Montreal? He’s been good this year, but once a player—”
“I’ll be in Montreal,” I said firmly. “I’ll keep him in line. But that won’t even be necessary. I’ll just need to let Karen know he’s staying in line, so she won’t worry. It’ll all work out.”
“Okay, this has been fascinating,” Scott said, stepping away from Oliver and dropping his pose, “but it’s not what we’re here for. We’re here to not talk about hockey or hockey players. Or hockey players being players. Whatever. We’re here to talk about golfers!”
“No, I changed my mind,” I said quickly. With enough time, enough distance, Scott and Oliver could have been useful support. But this close to Logan, and in the moods they were both clearly in, they were only going to embarrass me. “This whole thing is stupid. I’m just—I don’t know, I’m trying to manufacture an epiphany, maybe?”
Scott’s eyes narrowed as Oliver’s widened. “Yeah,” Scott said. “That’s what I was thinking. You’re manufacturing a—a what?”
“I’m feeling restless. I know things are going to change in two months, but it’s like I’m in a holding pattern until then, stuck in the same old life, and I don’t like it so I’m trying to change things faster. But that’s stupid. It’s fake.” As fake as the nature of Corrigan Falls? But it was best not to think about that conversation, not if I was trying to talk myself out of liking Logan. “This was just a false alarm. I’m sincerely grateful to you guys for coming out—seriously, it means a lot. But let’s call the whole thing off, okay?”
“Okay,” Oliver said cautiously, looking to Scott for guidance.
“Yeah, okay,” Scott agreed. “If you say so. I mean, I think we could be useful, but it’s your call.”
So obviously I should have known right then that he was up to something, being that cooperative, but what can I say? I was still jangled, still thrown off by hearing about the glamorous lives all my friends were heading for, the glamorous life I could have been heading for if I’d listened to my mom and hung on tighter to Toby. I wasn’t at my best.
So I let Scott and Oliver go and went back to re-arranging the gloves on the wall closest to the window. I snuck a look out toward the shed where Logan was working, sorted some gloves, looked out the window again—and wanted to launch myself out of it and sprint over to intercept.
Because Scott and Oliver were out there by the shed, and they were having a nice, friendly, casual chat with Logan. Scott said something the other two laughed at, and then all three of them looked toward the building, maybe even toward the window where I was standing. I drew back like there was a snake coming at me, but it was totally possible I’d already been seen. Already been discussed. Scott and Oliver. Logan. Talking. Possibly about me.
I’d been caught skinny-dipping the night before, and today I was caught stalking a crush. Seriously? Where had my life gone wrong?
But even through my mortification, I managed to take another peek out the window. And when I saw the three of them still talking, I was only half wishing they’d all fall into a big pit and be gone from my life forever. The other half of me? It really wanted to know what they were talking about.