Finally home, Magnus dropped me at the closest beach access. The walk was easy for me, but a horse traipsing up and down the subdivision's roads might cause a problem.

I sort of hoped there would be some kind of kiss goodbye. Possibly like that scene from the movie where the couple collapses into the surf. We could kiss in the water with the waves washing around us, or not, that might be weird. But anyway, our goodbye was far more ordinary. Magnus helped me slide down to the sand and then he looked down at me, the horse stepping side to side. I supposed it was happy to have me off, lighter now, wanting to run.

I said, a little awkwardly, “I'll pick you and the Mustang up at seven?”

Magnus nodded. “I look forward tae seeing ye.” And then he rode away.

On the walk back home I considered the day. Was I starting something with the Scotsman and was that okay?

I had been mooning over Braden. Now I hadn't thought about him at all since yesterday, except to lament the time I wasted thinking about him. He sucked. And Magnus didn't. That was nice. I actually thought I liked Magnus a lot. Like a real a lot.

At home I got dressed for the night. A cute sundress — a little slip of a piece along with strappy sandals. I put my hair up into a messy bun. I had a little pink from the sun across my nose and hoped it made me look cute and sunshiny.

I drove to Magnus's after eating a quick dinner with my parents.

They were irritated that I was partying so often and not focusing on my next plan. I tried to tell them I was still sad about Braden, but I don't think the sun-kissed nose and the cute little dress really sold: depression.

Mom squinted her eyes. “Are you seeing James tonight?”

“Just meeting friends.”

She met my father's eyes. “The gossip on the island is that you're spending a lot of time with Magnus Campbell. I need to tell you that does not seem like a good idea.”

I scowled. “I'm not spending a lot of time with him. I — we're friends.”

She said, “Good, keep it that way. Your father is his money manager. I'm making a tidy sum off his lease, plus I plan to speak to him about some real estate investments. If you're playing footsie with him under the table it might complicate things. So don't.” She ended firmly.

“Don't complicate things or play footsie?”

“Don't be a smart ass Katie, you know what I mean. A big part of our income this month and possibly into the foreseeable future is dependent on the estate of Magnus Campbell. It won't be a good idea if you go messing it up with him.”

“I'm not going to mess anything up.”

“Well, you know how you get dear,” said Dad.

“How I get? Man, I'm so sick and tired of people saying that to me. I don't get any way. I react when people treat me badly. That's all. I just happened to be on camera when it happened. I'll admit it wasn't a good look for me, but Braden is the asshole in this situation. He's the one who gets...” I trailed off, because I had stopped making sense and sounded like a petulant kid.

Was that a side effect of being in my twenties and living with my parents — every interaction turned me into their child?

Mom said, “Well dear, you brought it up. Your dad and I spoke about it and unless we see real improvements in your life. A job, money coming in, something besides sunbathing all day, you'll need to find a new place to live.”

“You're going to kick me out? My fiancé broke my heart a month ago, and you're punishing me?”

“No, see, this is what you do. I explain what will happen if you don't do something, and all you hear is what will happen. You completely ignore what actions you can take to make it not happen. You've always done that since you were little. I would say put your toys away, or I'll take them all and donate them to poor kids who will be grateful for them, and you'd burst into tears, completely ignoring the part where you need to put your toys away.”

“So you're saying I don't accept your threats in the manner you intend them, and that's my problem? Maybe I simply don't respond well to threats?”

Dad chuckled. “Now now, don't go flying across the table.”

“Jesus Christ Dad, are you serious about this?”

Mom said, “You've been here for a week, we're just wondering how long you'll be staying.”

I sighed, deeply. “Fine, I'll move out.”

“That's not what we're saying at all.”

“It's what I'm hearing. I'll see if I can stay with Hayley for a bit while I figure out what to do next. Maybe a hotel. I can probably afford that for a few weeks.”

Dad said, “If you invested what little money you have left it would grow.”

“When new money was coming in it might have been good for investing, but right now I need it for living.”

“You could be a YouTuber again.”

“I pushed food around on my plate. “I've been disgraced. I'm not going to be able to start over, not without some serious PR, and I don't really have it in me. I would like to go to school...”

“You quit school, to start your business. Now you quit your business and want to go back to school. Maybe you should consider real estate. Sell houses, that's where the future is.”

Dad said, “Or plumbing. There's great money in plumbing, or risk management in the financial sectors.”

They both cleared their plates as if the matter had been well-discussed.

I SnapChatted Hayley a selfie with crossed eyes.

I wrote: Parents suck, can I crash at your place for a week?

Her reply was a selfie with a grin. She wrote back: Yes. Pay rent and you can stay as long as you want.

I took a photo of myself frowning: How much is rent?

She smiled in her picture: $200 a month.

I wrote back: Done.