The sun rose, beating down on Brooklyn’s back. She closed her eyes and basked in its warmth. She hoped for a warm day with a breeze. She intended to open windows so she could hear the ocean while she worked and smell the sea’s salt air as it wafted through the inn. She wanted to hang wind chimes because it reminded her how life used to be here. Of all the jobs she had done in the past, she preferred the ones on the coast. The ocean was her place; it was where she belonged. To her, working inland was boring, and there wasn’t an escape. Sure, some towns had amazing vibes, great festivals, and beautiful parks, but there wasn’t anything like a pier where you would run into a sea lion waiting for his fisherman friends to return with a snack, or sitting on a dock with your feet in the water, watching as the sailboats came in and out of port. Life was always different by the water. It was hard to explain to people who hadn’t lived along the coast. It was a feeling, a sense of being, and Brooklyn missed it . . . she missed belonging somewhere.
It had taken Brooklyn a few years until she was ready to face the water. For the longest time, she wouldn’t go in, afraid she’d swim out too far in her quest to find Austin. As far as she knew, his body was still out there. And if it wasn’t, Carly hadn’t said anything. Nor had Brooklyn asked. The story of what had happened that fateful day only needed telling once by Grady. No one would ever forget his story.
Brooklyn looked up and down the beach. Not a long way from where she was sitting was a bonfire pit. Back in Seattle, her friends hadn’t really done this. They were into shopping, sailing, and spending time on yachts. But here, this was what she and her friends had done on the weekends.
“Daddy, may I go to a bonfire this evening?”
“With who? You just started school.”
Brooklyn swallowed. “Austin Woods. He’s a local boy, a fisherman, and in my class. He invited me. There’s a group going, so it’s not just the two of us.” She purposely left out the part about Austin being the resident heartthrob, the cutest boy she had ever laid her eyes on, and how when he smiled, her heart raced so fast she swore she was having a heart attack.
“His parents own the inn that we stayed in, David. The one right on the water. The view from our room is what sold me on living here,” Brooklyn’s mother, Bonnie, chimed in. “What time will you be home?”
Brooklyn perked up. “Oh, I don’t know. Um . . .”
“Midnight and not a second later,” David bellowed. He tried to act gruff, but Brooklyn saw through the act. She smiled and kissed her father on the cheek.
“Thank you, Daddy.”
From her house, Brooklyn walked two blocks until she came to the large seawall. She all but galloped down the wooden steps, slipping her shoes off as soon as she touched the sand, and walked hurriedly toward the inn. You could see it from anywhere in town—it was the tallest structure and set partially on a cliff.
The closer Brooklyn came, the louder she could hear everyone. They were laughing, and their giggles were contagious. She stood there, watching the group of friends. They seemed in tune with each other, much like she had been with Rennie, who she couldn’t wait to tell about Austin.
“Brooke, you made it!” Monroe stood and rushed over to her, then slipped her arm in hers.
She didn’t bother correcting her on the shortened version of her name. Usually she would have, but that was before she had moved. Here, she wanted to be a different person.
Monroe brought her into the circle and introduced her to a few new faces, but her eyes were set on Austin, who was walking toward the group with his arms full of wood. As much as she wanted to go help him, she knew showing her cards too soon would not bode well for her. She waited for him to see her, and when he did, he winked.
Brooklyn had no idea a wink could do so much to her insides, but they were spinning. She was having heart palpitations, her palms were sweating—which meant sand was sticking to her—and her mouth was parched. In all her life, she had never felt this way.
As soon as the sun set, the ambience shifted. Boys and girls coupled together, sharing blankets, and some even wandered off toward the surf or the shacks. Brooklyn felt out of place, even though Monroe was still sitting next to her, but she was canoodling with Grady Chamberlain.
Still, Brooklyn sat there, watching the blue and red flames of the fire dance around, determined to have a good time. Her head bobbed to the music, she laughed at jokes she heard, and she smiled when people asked her questions. It wasn’t until she shivered and a blanket was draped over her shoulders that her night turned around. Austin sat next to her, his shoulder touching hers, and while sharing the same blanket, she realized she had been faking having a good time . . . her good time started as soon as she stared into Austin’s brown eyes.