“I’m not his girlfriend,” Celia shouted after her. Then she turned to me, a fist on her hips. “Why didn’t you correct her?”

I tilted my head to the side, waiting for my neck to pop. Honestly, I was surprised that Celia had corrected Mirabelle. I would have thought she’d be happy about the title. As for me, I preferred to let people believe what they wanted to believe. It made life far more interesting.

But my fascination with human behavior was one I kept to myself, so instead I said, “Mirabelle’s a hopeless romantic. She’ll form her own opinion no matter what I say.”

Celia looked back after Mirabelle for a moment then walked toward me as I wiped sweat off my forehead with a towel. “She still doesn’t like me.” Disappointment was evident in her voice.

“Sorry,” I said. I suspected that only-child Celia had always sought after Mirabelle as a surrogate sister. Our families were certainly entwined enough to make a bond between them seem inevitable. For some reason, it hadn’t happened. Why was that? Curiosity tugged at my subconscious, but I forced it away. I would ponder that further at another time.

Celia didn’t appear to think there was anything worth pondering. “She’s fourteen. I get it. I wish it were different, but I understand.”

“She needs to learn some manners.”

“And you need to learn to relax. I’m fine. I don’t have to be her friend. I’m your friend.” She peered up at me with doubt in her eyes. “At least, I think we’re still friends. It’s been nine months since I left for San Francisco and not a single peep from you. What’s up with that?”

I shrugged as if my neglect had been accidental. It wasn’t in the least. Before Celia left for college, she’d made it clear that she was interested in more than friendship. I was not. I’d decided it was best not to lead her on. Not because I cared about how she felt, but because her infatuation was a hassle. I’d ignored her phone calls and deleted her few emails without so much as skimming them.

Yes, I was an ass**le. This wasn’t news to me.

Now, though, I was surprised at how good it felt to see her. Not in any romantic way, but in a familiar way. She was family. She was home.

I scratched along my jaw, deciding not to answer her question outright. Against my better judgment, I extended an invitation instead. “Millie should have lunch ready soon. I can grab a shower and then we can catch up over sandwiches.”

Celia frowned. “Actually, I can’t today. I only got away for a few minutes.”

I raised an inquisitive brow. Why would she stop by if she couldn’t stay?

She didn’t expound. Instead, she asked, “Will you be here all summer?”

For as long as I could remember, both of our families spent the summer in the Hamptons. It seemed strange to think she’d assume differently. But I supposed, being older, things changed. I had already been thinking it was time to get a place of my own. I didn’t need to spend all my time off from school with my parents. This would likely be my last season at Mabel Shores.

“Yes,” I answered. “Will you?”

“I will. And I’d like to see you.” She cleared her throat and moved her focus to her shoes. “I came by today to tell you something. Um, something that I thought might make it easier for you to want to see me again.”

I folded my arms across my chest. She had me intrigued. “What is it?”

She forced her eyes up to mine. “I thought you should know that I’m seeing someone. I have been all year. We’re quite serious.” She fidgeted, obviously nervous. Did she think I’d be jealous?

“All right,” I said. “Congratulations.” I was schooled in how to respond in situations such as these though I didn’t feel congratulatory. I felt nothing.

She took a deep breath. “I thought that might be the reason you hadn’t returned any of my messages. Because you were worried that I…that I still…”

I cocked my head, fascinated with how she’d finish the sentence or if she’d finish it at all.

She didn’t, and after a moment of awkward silence, I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to push her, wanted to see what she’d say, what she’d do. “That you still liked me?”

Her cheeks went scarlet. Interesting. “Yes. You did know, then.”

I laughed. “Everyone knew, Celia.”

She shook her head as if reconciling herself with the idea. “Okay, everyone knew. But it was a silly schoolgirl crush. I’m over it now. I have Dirk, and—”

“Dirk? That’s his name?” Immediately I pictured a long-haired hippy, though Celia would never be serious about anyone not in her social class. It wasn’t in her. He was likely proper and well-mannered and from lots of money, just as she was.

“Be nice, Hudson.” But her admonishment came with a smile. “Anyway. I have Dirk and I’m really in love with him. I think he might be the one.” She blushed again, and this time I could see that she was indeed over me.

Fascinating.

“That’s…great.” This time, I wasn’t really sure what else to say. Wasn’t certain what Celia wanted me to say.

She seemed to sense I needed more. “So you and I can go back to being friends. No more weird puppy dog eyes from me. And it shouldn’t be a big deal. Okay?” She smiled hesitantly, hopefully, as if my answer were important to her. As if my friendship were something she thought was important.

I licked my lips, salty from my earlier exertion. There was no reason to say no. And I did enjoy Celia’s company. “Sure.”

“Awesome!” Her relief was tangible. “I’ll call you. Maybe we can play tennis later this week? Or take the Jet Skis out or something?”

“Sounds good.” It also sounded dull. But she was proposing a routine summer in the Hamptons. It was what we always did and doing it again made sense. I’d find something else to occupy my boredom.

A moment of silence passed between us until it extended past comfortable to awkward. “Well, then,” Celia said, shielding her eyes from the midday sun, “I’d better be going.”

Chivalry returned to me. “I’ll walk you out.” I draped the towel around my neck and gathered my racket cover. Then we started up the path to the main house.

We were quiet as we traveled. I escorted her all the way to the circle drive where she’d left her car parked. After opening her door for her, I leaned in to give her a peck on the cheek. This was standard for us. She was, after all, practically my sibling.