I stared. “When’d that happen?”
“Eh, long time ago, with my cousins. But if I ever need to access fear for drama class, I just tap into that day.”
“Tap into it now, how about?”
Sebastian smiled, that flash of Movie Star Teeth, and my stomach caved in appreciation. “We were all ten years old and horsing around. No big story there.”
“C’mon, details. Were you in real danger? Did you ever have that moment where you thought … it was over?”
He looked at me curiously. “Details and danger, okay. So they held me in too long, and I lost consciousness. They figured I was playing dead, but when they let me up, there was water in my lungs and I wasn’t breathing. Then Aunt Barb saved my life with chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth.”
“Wow. Hooray for Aunt Barb.”
“No joke. She still talks about it: she says I gave her a good fright.”
“I bet.” In my mind’s eye, I saw him precisely. Flat on the sand, a skinny blue boy with dents beneath his eyes and the agitated hum of the crowd surrounding him, pressing in for a closer look.
“And yeah, to answer your question, I did think it was over. The way a kid thinks those kinda things, a little dislocated from it all—but those last seconds, my body giving up, I remember saying to myself, ‘Bye, world. Hi, forever.’ ”
I closed my eyes. I’d thought that thought, too, in a different context. “It sounds like you were close.”
He nodded. “Funny thing, I’m almost grateful it happened. Every time I jump in the water—even when I go back into ocean—I’m always incredibly humbled at how I got that second chance to live another day.”
“What’s so great about another day?”
Maybe it was my sharp tone. Sebastian checked me over. “Is that a rhetorical question?”
I smiled like it was, but I wanted to know. “More like an essay question.”
He nodded in mock seriousness. “Ahem. For what it’s worth, here’s my essay: ‘What’s So Great about Another Day, by some dude named Sebastian Brooks.’ Take today. Did you have any idea that the sky could really be this blue?” He pointed up.
“Thanks. Sometimes I forget where the sky is.”
“Hide behind your sarcasm all you want, Miss Atkinson. But this color is like a whole new fresh coat of sky made just for us.”
“Summer skies are always pretty,” I said.
“Or how about Isa’s lemonade? That’s worth living for. Sweet and sour, with all that lemon pulp and mint like a salad at the bottom? Oh yeah, baby.” He picked up a glass and shook it, then drained it.
“It’s not bad,” I concurred.
“Or what about that tiny chip in your front top tooth that I love to look at?”
I closed my mouth, my tongue searching for the chip. Its sandpaper edge. “I’m getting it filed next dentist’s appointment,” I told him.
“Don’t. It’s perfect. Just like the sky and the lemonade and this crystal-blue, arctic-cold pool water. So many things have conspired to make this day great. And it’s not even lunchtime.”
“Either you’re the most optimistic person I’ve ever met in my life, or you’re a truly accomplished actor.”
Sebastian wriggled his eyebrows. “We’ll have to hang out more, so you can decide.” He snapped his T-shirt off the lounge chair and yanked it down over his head. “But now I gotta get moving. I’m doing deliveries today.” Lacing his fingers through mine, he squeezed our hands into a single fist. “It’s been brief, but real.”
“I’m bummed about the brief part.” And I was. I wished he could stay with me all day. Sebastian Brooks was the sanest thing in my life, probably.
Instead, I walked him out front, where the Sunrise Dry Cleaners minivan was parked. I whistled low.
“These are some pretty fierce wheels,” he acknowledged. Then he quickly kissed me at the nape of my neck, catching me by surprise. My eyes moved to the kitchen, then to the upstairs window.
“Mrs. Hubbard is definitely spying,” said Sebastian, reading my thoughts, his lips warm and pressed against my neck. “That’s a crab apple old lady’s duty. But it’s not like we’re up to anything taboo out here.”
Which reminded me. “Did that sound strange to you, what Isa said, earlier? About Peter and Jessie?” I asked. “That whole pulling-down-the-top thing.”
Sebastian slipped a few strands of my hair behind my ear. “Naw. Half of what Pete and Jess did, they did for show. And those kids weren’t angels.” Sebastian pulled his keys from his pocket and jingled them. He wasn’t moving to climb inside the minivan, but he wasn’t moving in for another kiss, either.
“Spill it,” I told him. “What do you want to tell me?”
“Okay, listen, Jamie—I don’t think you should let Isa’s world dominate so big. Before you came down, she and I were hanging out poolside for a while, and I’m all for dramatic improv, but her imagination can spin her out pretty far.”
“Sure,” I agreed out loud, though I didn’t agree, not at all.
“I don’t want to get you defensive.” He opened the van door and slid inside, lowering the music so that we could keep talking. “Everyone’s protective of Isa. We’ve all known her since she was a baby. So when I see her playing those games, I can’t help feeling like you need to reel her in a little.”
“She’s got strong memories of last summer,” I said. “Nightmares that she doesn’t want to talk about. Jessie’s presence was complicated, and Jessie’s absence is still complicated. So no, I don’t agree with you. Because I prefer to let Isa be a kid, if that’s what makes her feel safe.”
His eyes seemed to gauge me. “Jess and Pete weren’t what I’d call an impeccable influence. But you’re different, Jamie. You understand that little girl’s world. That’s why I feel like you could do more than just accept that she’s lost inside it. Isa needs to outgrow being that same child Jessie took care of. She needs to step out of her past.”
Sebastian wanted me to agree with him so much that I tried to meet him halfway. “I’ll … think about that.” And while I’d been considering telling him my agenda for today, now I mentally nixed that idea. No way would he approve.
Instead, we firmed up the plans for Finley Beach. Sebastian would pick me up at eight, we’d go to the concert, grab a bite to eat on the boardwalk and meet up with the whole gang at the Rickrack later.