28 · Lucy
Late Sunday afternoon, John and Tami drop me off at home. It’s been a long day. At the fancy gift-opening breakfast, Ben looked like hell and didn’t glance in my direction, not once. Emily was overtired and irritable on the drive home.
I’m thankful that my mom gave me the night off, even though she had to cover my shift herself. I’m looking forward to a hot shower, a quiet evening with a good book, and a full day off tomorrow.
I’m not surprised to find Simon sitting on the steps of my front porch, his long legs stretched out, earbuds in his ears. He hops up when he sees me, pulls out the earbuds, and grabs my suitcase.
“Let me carry that for you.”
“How long have you been waiting here?”
“Not long.” He smiles, a slow smile that lights up his whole face. “I missed you, Lucy.” Inside, he sets the suitcase at the bottom of the stairs, then reaches his hand toward me and raises one eyebrow. He pulls me close and kisses me, slowly, gently. His kisses are sweet and comforting.
But I still feel Ben’s arms around my waist as we danced, his touch, the arc of electricity straight to my battered heart. I shake the thought away.
When Simon pulls away from me, he asks in a whisper, “Are you—are you okay?”
“Yes.” Not really.
He smiles. “How was the wedding?”
“Good, fine, okay.”
“Wow, that good?”
Of course I can’t tell him the truth. “Wonderful,” I lie. “I love Duluth so much. And the wedding was beautiful.”
“Want to come over to watch a movie tonight?”
“I’m really tired,” I tell him. “Tomorrow night?”
He smiles. “Promise?”
He’s satisfied with my nod and kisses me good-bye. “I’ll take you out for pie,” he says.
I carry my suitcase upstairs to my room and collapse onto my stomach on the bed, exhausted. The agate in my pocket digs into my thigh. I sit up and take it out. I place it in one palm and trace the L.
Oh, Ben.
I get up and walk over to my dresser. On the top is a small cedar treasure chest with an image of Split Rock Lighthouse on the lid, another souvenir from last year’s trip to the North Shore. It’s filled with small stones and agates that I collected on the beach. I set Ben’s agate there among the ordinary rocks, take a deep breath, and close the lid.
I’ve just gotten out of the shower and into my pajamas when Hannah calls.
I give her the two-minute version of my weekend, and she says, “I’ll be right over.”
I want to be alone after a weekend of not having one minute to myself, to fall into bed and sleep for days, but I need my Hannah, too. I wait for her in the living room.
She walks into the house without knocking, balancing two Dairy Queen Blizzards while she opens the door. She hands me one, then sits down in my dad’s recliner.
“Spill,” she says. “I want all the dirty details.”
I tell her everything, even the part about the agate. Nothing would make sense if I left out the agate. I never even told Trixie about it.
“Wait,” she says. “You’ve been carrying around an agate? A rock? Every day? For, like, a year?”
“Basically. Yes.”
“In your pocket.”
“Yes.”
“For a boy you’ve never even kissed?”
I feel the heat rushing up from my neck.
“Ohmygod Lucille, you kissed Ben and never told me?” she yells, so loud I’m sure Simon can hear across the yard. “When?”
“It was nothing,” I say.
“It was not nothing. Come on, tell me.”
I swallow against the hot, teary feeling in my throat. “After her funeral. He gave me a ride home and he—he kissed me.”
“Like, right after her funeral?”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
And then.
And then he shattered me.
I shake my head.
“He hurt you,” Hannah says. She doesn’t push. “Oh, hon, you are so gone on that boy.”
I sigh and set my cup on the end table next to the sofa. “Ben isn’t going to happen. That’s just the way it is. And besides, I have a boyfriend, remember? Simon?”
“Oh, sweetheart.” She pauses, then says, “You know what you need? You need to get away from this place.”
“I just got back.”
She huffs. “Let me rephrase that. You need to get away from Ben. You need a rodeo.”
“A rodeo?”
“Is there an echo in here? Damn right, a rodeo. Nothing cheers me up like seeing a hot cowboy with something firm and sturdy between his legs.”
I roll my eyes. “I hate to break it to you, but the last time I checked, there’s no rodeo in Halcyon Lake.”
“Babe, it’s rodeo season in South Dakota. The Stampede is next weekend!” She squeals.
“The Stampede?”
“Are you for real? You’ve never heard of the Corn Palace Stampede? Oh, you are in for the time of your life.”
“Hannah, I can’t go to South Dakota.”
“Yes, you can. My cousin can hook us up with tickets, and we can stay at the campground. This is perfect. Just what you need!”
I shake my head. “My parents will never let me go.”
“Sure they will! We’ll get Dustin to drive us. And we’ll invite your boy Simon—your mom and dad like him, right? With two strong men to protect us, how can your parents say no?”
“Do you honestly think they’ll let me go to South Dakota with you and two guys we barely know?”
“It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?” She grins.
When Hannah gets an idea in her head, especially a crazy one like this, there’s no stopping her. I only knew her a few weeks when she convinced me that the best place to watch the Homecoming game was from the platform of the old water tower, even though she knew I was afraid of heights. She was right, and we had a great night until it was time to come down and I could hardly move. I was so terrified, dizzy.
“Isn’t it?” she says again.
I’m exhausted. She sets her empty cup on the end table and sits on the sofa next to me. She loops her arm through mine and reaches for the remote.
“Let’s watch a movie. It will take your mind off things.” She flips through the channels until she finds an old Meg Ryan movie with a happy ending. “This will cheer you up, I promise.”
My heart swells with love for her. We’ve only been friends since the beginning of the school year, but I love her. She’s not Trixie—I will never have another friend like Trixie—but she’s Hannah, and she’s unique and loud and crass and she cares about my broken heart.
“Thanks,” I whisper. “For everything.”
She squeezes my arm. “Anything for you, Lucille.”