I follow her down the sidewalk. Katie lives in the trailer park about a block down from The Wayward Sun. We pass the coffee shop and I hear the strains of The Who coming from inside. None of the boys are in sight. Probably getting ready to leave.
“I think George called them the Star Trails.”
She sneaks a sideways glance at me. “You’re going with George?”
My stomach twists with nerves. “Yes. And the others, too.”
“You’re going with all of the Wayward Sons?”
“Did you just call them the suns?” I move my hand like a burst of energy. To be fair, it’s fitting. They do shine.
“No,” Katie rolls her eyes. We’ve passed the gas station and the entrance for the trailer park is the next drive. “The Wayward Sons like boy. S-o-n. It’s a song.”
“Oh okay, I didn’t get that. Sierra’s got so many double meanings to her stuff, I miss some.”
She laughs and walks up to a silver Airstream and inserts a key in the door. “That’s the truth. I think she named the shop when it was just her and Dexter. The original wayward son if there’s ever been one. The others fit, too. A whole boarding house of lost, parentless boys.”
The way she says it makes me sad, but I know they’ve built a tight family. I’ve also learned that being parentless maybe isn’t the worst thing all the time. As soon as I think that, I feel bad.
“Come on in and I’ll see what I can find.”
I step into the trailer, which is immaculate and oddly spacious. Katie disappears into the back and I can hear her rummaging through clothes. A few minutes later she appears with several scraps of clothing.
Scraps.
“You want me to wear one of those?” I blurt, eyeing the bikinis.
“Sure? I think we’re about the same size. Take your pick.”
The options run from white bikini, black bikini, red-white-and-blue bikini, and an outlier in olive green with a halter top and boy-short bottoms. Each and every one looks like a nightmare, but she looks at me expectantly and I have to make a choice. I go for the halter.
“Good decision,” she says. “Full coverage up top. Plus, it’s super flattering.”
“Thanks,” I say, already prepared to never put it on.
She locks up the trailer and we head back to the lodge. “You know I’m surprised they invited you to the falls. I mean, not that you’re not great, but they keep to themselves socially.”
“I have a feeling they’re starting to think of me as their long-lost wayward sister.”
She rolls her eyes. “Why would you say that?”
“I don’t know. I’m not super experienced around boys in any way, but I think they just feel sorry for me—cooped up with my grandma all summer. They’re just being nice.”
She stops in front of the gas station. “Look, Starlee, if we were
in one of those amazing teen movies, we’d be having our make-over montage so that you’d walk in and wow the boy of your dreams. But we’re not in a movie and you don’t need a makeover. Not with your fantastic red hair and adorable figure. You just need a bathing suit, because for some reason you don’t have one.”
“I don’t have one because I’ve never needed one.” Especially not one like the one in my hand.
“Girl.” She rolls her eyes. “They hang out with you because they like you—that’s how boys are. They don’t feel sorry for people. Even the nice ones.”
“We’ve just bonded over a few things. School and parents. That kind of thing.”
“So they’ve opened up to you.” Her eyes are wide. “Wow.”
“I think you’re being overdramatic.”
“We’ll see, we’ll see.” She glances over at the Wayward Sun as we pass. “If you had to pick, which one is your favorite?”