Ronnie felt the blood drain from her face. She told herself not to listen, not to believe it, that Will wasn't that way. But the words kept echoing in her mind...
Let me guess. He took you fishing, right?
Either that or he brings her to the aquarium...
Had she really misjudged him? It seemed like she was wrong about everyone she'd met down here. Which made sense, considering she'd never wanted to come down here at all. When she drew a long breath, she noticed that Ashley was studying her.
"Are you okay?" she asked, her perfectly shaped eyebrows knitted together in concern. "Did I say something to upset you?"
"I'm fine."
"Because you looked like you were about to get sick."
"I said I'm fine," Ronnie snapped.
Ashley's mouth opened and closed before her expression softened. "Oh, no. Don't tell me you were actually falling for it?"
New girl, new conquest? It's just the way he is...
The words kept ringing through her head, and Ronnie still didn't answer--couldn't answer. In the silence, Ashley went on, her voice sympathetic. "Well, don't feel too bad, because he's pretty much the most charming guy in the world when he wants to be. Trust me, I know, because I fell for it, too." She nodded at the crowd. "And so have half the other girls you see around here."
Ronnie instinctively surveyed the crowd, taking in the sight of half a dozen pretty girls in bikinis, all of their gazes fixed on Will. She felt incapable of speech. Meanwhile, Ashley was going on.
"I just figured you'd be able to see through it... I mean, you seem a little more sophisticated than the other girls around here. I guess I thought--"
"I've got to go," Ronnie announced, her tone steadier than her nerves. She felt her legs shaking slightly as she stood. On the court, Will must have seen her stand because he turned toward her, smiling, acting...
Like the most charming guy in the world...
She turned away, angry at him, but even angrier at herself for being so stupid. She wanted nothing more than to get the hell out of this place.
In her bedroom, she tossed the suitcase on the bed and was shoving clothes inside when the door opened behind her. Over her shoulder, she saw her dad standing in the doorway. She hesitated only briefly before crossing to the dresser and grabbing more of her things.
"Tough day?" her dad asked. His voice was soft, but he didn't wait for an answer. "I was in the workshop with Jonah when I saw you come up the beach. You looked pretty mad."
"I don't want to talk about it."
Her dad stayed in place, keeping his distance. "Going somewhere?"
She drew a furious breath as she continued to pack. "I'm out of here, okay? I'm calling Mom and I'm going home."
"That bad, huh?"
She turned toward him. "Please don't make me stay. I don't like it here. I don't like the people here. I don't fit in here. I don't belong here. I want to go home."
Her dad said nothing, but she saw the disappointment in his face.
"I'm sorry," she added. "And it's not you, okay? If you call, I'll talk to you. And you can come see me in New York and we'll spend time together, okay?"
Her dad continued to watch her in silence, which made her feel even worse. She surveyed the contents of her suitcase before adding the rest of her things.
"I'm not sure I can let you go."
She knew this was coming, and inwardly she tensed. "Dad..."
He raised his hands. "It's not for the reason you think. I'd let you go if I could. I'd call your mom right now. But given what happened the other day at the music store..."
With Blaze, she heard herself answer. And the arrest...
Her shoulders sagged. In her anger, she'd forgotten about the stolen goods.
Of course she'd forgotten about them. She hadn't stolen them in the first place! Her energy suddenly evaporated and she turned around, plopping down on the bed. This wasn't fair. None of this was fair.
Her dad still hadn't moved into the room.
"I can try to reach Pete--Officer Johnson--and see if it would be okay. I might not be able to reach him until tomorrow, though, and I don't want you to get into any more trouble. But if he says it's okay and you still want to go, I won't make you stay."
"Do you promise?"
"Yeah," he said. "Even though I'd rather you stay, I promise."
She nodded, pressing her lips together. "Will you come to New York to see me?"
"If I can," he said.
"What does that mean?"
Before her dad could answer, there was a sudden knocking on the door, loud and insistent. Her dad glanced over his shoulder. "I think that's probably the boy you were with today." She wondered how he knew, and reading her expression, he added, "I saw him heading this way when I came in the house to find you. Do you want me to handle it?"
Don't be mad at him. It's just the way he is. He can't help it.
"No," she said. "I'll handle it."
Her dad smiled, and for an instant, she thought he looked older than he had just the day before. As though her request had somehow aged him.
But even so, she didn't belong here. This was his place, not hers.
The knocking at the door sounded again.
"Hey, Dad?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks," she said. "I know you really want me to stay, but I can't."
"It's okay, sweetheart." Though he smiled, the words came out wounded. "I understand."
She tugged at the seam on her jeans before rising from the bed. As she reached the door, he placed a hand on her back and she paused. Then, steeling herself, she went to the door and pulled it open, noting that Will's hand was hanging in the air. He seemed surprised that she'd opened it.
She stared at him, wondering how she could have been so stupid to trust him. She should have listened to her instincts.
"Oh, hey...," he said, lowering his hand. "You're here. For a second there--"
She slammed the door, only to hear him immediately begin knocking again, his voice pleading.
"C'mon, Ronnie! Wait! I just want to know what happened! Why'd you leave?"
"Go away!" she shouted back.
"What did I do?"
She swung the door open again. "I'm not going to play your game!"
"What game? What are you talking about?"
"I'm not stupid. And I don't have anything to say to you."
Again, she slammed the door. Will began pounding on it.
"I'm not leaving until you talk to me!"
Her dad motioned to the door. "Trouble in paradise?"
"It's not paradise."
"So it seems," he said. "Do you want me to take care of it?" he offered again.
The pounding started up again.
"He won't stay long. It's better to just ignore him."
After a moment, he seemed to accept that and motioned to the kitchen. "Are you hungry?"
"No," she said automatically. Then, putting her hands on her stomach, she changed her mind. "Well, maybe a little."
"I found another good recipe online. This one has onions, mushrooms, and tomatoes cooked in olive oil, served over pasta, and tossed with Parmesan cheese. Does that sound okay?"
"I don't think Jonah will like it."