The Summer I Drowned (SEA GLASS)

chapter three

THE AFTERNOON SUN brightens the ochre furniture of the Myers' living room. Family photos line the beige walls and inflate my heart with a sweet nostalgia—pictures of Roger when he was in the police academy, a photo of a smiling Keely when she'd visited Sun's family in Korea. The Myers' house had always been my second home, and it's almost exactly as it was eight years ago.

Keely nudges me as we walk down the hall. "You guys were sickening last night. I literally wanted to vomit."

I hide my face with my hands. "Shut up! We're not that bad. And we're just friends."

"Sure," she sings.

Laughing, we enter the kitchen, where the smell of rosemary and tomatoes soak the air. Keely hasn't left me alone about Miles all morning—but I still haven't told her that West has been on my mind more than anything else.

Dread clenches my stomach, along with the acidic sensation of alcohol stagnating in my system. I was so freaking drunk last night that I don't trust my own memories of my conversation with West, and I keep replaying every detail, wondering if I'd made a total ass of myself. Knowing me, I probably did.

I guess I'm proud of myself for getting so close to the water without losing it, but right now, the memory of waves crashing in my ears add to the thumping in my chest and the nausea congregating in my gut.

"What are you making, Ma?" Keely plops down at the table, me right beside her.

Sun's black blouse is adorned with maroon roses, and is a stark contrast to her porcelain skin. She stands at the stove and stirs a pot. "Tomato soup."

"For breakfast?" Keely grumbles. "I want pancakes. Or waffles."

Sun raises her eyebrows. "Twelve-thirty is not breakfast time, Keely. If you want breakfast, have a bowl of cereal."

Keely groans and drags herself to the pantry. "Lucky Charms okay, Liv?"

"Sure, anything's fine. I just need food."

I cram my palms into my eyes at the sound of socks moving across the hardwood floor. Roger's in full uniform, and he squints when he sees us, pronouncing the wrinkles on his dark skin. His mustache and grumpy face remind me of a walrus. "Well, look who finally decided to wake up. I trust you two didn't get up to any illegal activities last night?"

"Of course not, Dad." Keely shoots me a smirk.

Roger can probably smell the booze on us, but he leaves us and goes into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Sun. Keely's parents let her drink—as long as she's responsible. Which she is. Keely's the most responsible vodka-loving sixteen-year-old I've ever met.

A heaping bowl of Lucky Charms appears under my nose.

"God, I feel like crap." Keely shovels a spoonful her in mouth and takes out her phone.

I poke the marshmallows in my bowl and watch the milk transform them into gooey blobs. West's face sweeps into my mind, his black hair, his deep voice. Why didn't Keely ever tell me that he grew up to look like that?

I force myself to eat the too-sweet cereal and take a deep breath. "So, I ran into West last night."

Keely drops her phone. "What? You're kidding. When? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Outside, when I went up to the cliff." I flick a strand of hair behind my ear. "And I felt weird bringing it up around Miles, since he said they're like, not talking."

"You're too respectful, Liv. I want the drama. You should just ask Miles what happened with West—I bet he'll tell you."

"You don't know anything about it at all?"