Mr. Haugen winked, lifting the pie from Chris's hand. "You'll go far with the ladies, my man."
"Sure." Adults could be so lame.
Mr. Haugen snagged two candy bars from the cooking station, Heath Bars for the specialty pies. He tucked one in his sports jacket and tossed the other to Chris. "Chocolate. For the special chick in your life."
Chris snagged the candy bar midair and tucked it into his droopy shirt pocket. "Yeah, whatever. I'll make sure everyone gets out of here fine."
A half hour later, he stood in the front parking lot, locking the door, taking his time until Miranda revved her engine, the last of the crowd to go.
Finally, Miranda spewed gravel on her way out of the lot. He exhaled long. Off the hook. Alone, just him and waves pounding the dock, sailboat lines snapping and pinging.
He rounded the corner to where he'd parked– away from the shoreline and saltwater so his dad wouldn't blow a gasket about rust.
And pulled up short. A lone street lamp backlit a person sitting on the trunk of his mother's car. Shelby.
She perched cross-legged, flip-flops off and beside her as if she'd gotten comfortable for a long wait. She hugged her knees to her chest, her jet-black hair lifting in the wind.
Damn. How could he have ever even looked at Miranda?
He tried not to think about the chocolate bar in his pocket. "You shouldn't be out here alone. It's not safe."
She turned at his voice, then rested her chin on her knees without answering. Did chicks practice this silent-treatment stuff to confuse guys? He didn't have much practice on how to handle it since the women in his family weren't ever afraid to speak their minds.
He strode closer, faster, until he could see her clearly. Ah man, her eyes stared back, all red and swollen, puffy from crying. He tried to think of something to say and only came up with, "Want a Heath Bar? Mom says chocolate cures everything."
Her bottom lip quivered.
Way to go, hotshot. "Okay, no chocolate."
Foot on the bumper, he propelled himself up to sit on the trunk beside her. Maybe quiet was good after all, kinda like his dad did. When his dad clammed up, Mom usually spilled her guts. Then a guy didn't have to guess what was going on and risk botching it by actually getting involved in the discussion.
Besides, sitting with Shelby, the ocean breeze puffing by, he could smell her. Be close to her. Why rush ending that? He stared up at the inky sky dotted with stars and just breathed salty air and Shelby.
She shifted beside him, slid her flip-flops back on. "You probably need to get home."
"Nah, my folks know I'm working." He would take the ass-ripping from his dad for being late. Time alone with Shelby was rare since Shelby and Murdoch were so tight.
Or were they?
Another tear glistened in the corner of her eye. From a breakup? He couldn't stop the hope.
Which made him feel like a disloyal scumbag. "Where's Murdoch?"
"Away for the weekend." She sniffled, blinked fast. "Some family-reunion thing."
Okay, not breaking up. "Bummer. Tough luck him being gone right now. You don't have too many weekends left before the moving truck pulls out. Then college."
"Uh-huh."
She chewed off her glitter lip gloss while more waves crashed. He waited and reminded himself he was her friend. Murdoch's friend. And friends didn't take advantage. He was cool with them as a couple.
"I think I'm pregnant."
Her simple sentence hung there and man it hurt. Bad. He wasn't okay with crap.
He'd known in his head that Shelby and Murdoch were probably doing it. They'd been dating for about two years, after all. But it wasn't something he let himself think about too much because it would drive him kinda crazy.
Not much choice but to think about it now. "Are you sure?"