times.”
“Well,” she said, her voice edging toward annoyance, “there was one time that was more important than the others.”
Over the past few weeks, they’d wandered every inch of Dream Point: the bench at the end of the promenade, of course, but also the corner of Flamingo and Hummingbird Lane, where after driving slowly around town for hours, he’d found her wandering aimlessly, lost in dark hopelessness after she’d been booted off the swim team. And the Native American statue, where they used to meet before either of them could drive, and Enoteca Medici on Flamingo Row, where they’d gone for dinner before prom. And so many more locations. It was like all she wanted to do was revisit their history together. Carter found it sort of sweet, if a little depressing.
“You gonna tell me?” he said eventually.
“You’ll figure it out,” she said.
Carter focused on the road for a while. He tapped his finger against the steering wheel to the beat of the Mac Miller song streaming through the car’s speakers.
“Right there,” she said as a McDonald’s appeared up ahead of them. “You remember now?” When Cartershrugged, she elaborated. “The summer after sophomore year, just after your dad gave you the BMW? We drove out here? And we stopped at this McDonald’s along the way.”
“We did?” Carter said. He had no memory of stopping at McDonald’s. Why would he? A McDonald’s was a McDonald’s was a McDonald’s.
Lilah could sense Carter’s weariness. Hoping to reel him back to her, she filled the gulf between them with words. “That was the first time,” she said, “when I understood what it would be like to be a grown-up with you. You knew so much about the plants and animals we were seeing. Just listening to you talk about what we were looking at—I felt like I could do that forever. And remember, we found that little falling-down wooden hut and . . .”
She grinned at him and covered his hand with her own, nudging it slowly up her inner thigh.
“I thought we could drive out there and see if we could find it again.”
He remembered the day, how beautiful it had been, how romantic, holding hands as they walked along the faded wooden walkway through the swamps, keeping their eyes out for alligators and whooping cranes, hoping against hope to see a panther, and then the thrill of sneaking into that hut, of taking all their clothes off and having sex out there in that place where anyone mightcome along and catch them. He wished he could summon those feelings again, but mostly all he felt around Lilah now was weariness over trying to fake being happy, and worry that she might harm herself again.
“Lilah, really,” he said to her, “it’s, like, six p.m. It’s not like we’re going to drive for another hour and wander around the swamp tonight.”
Carter drove past the McDonald’s without stopping, and Lilah turned to see it go by.
“We could watch the sunset together, at least,” she said.
“We’re on the wrong side for that. You can’t see the sunset through the mangroves,” he said. “It’s just going to be all shadows.”
Then, as her face buckled with disappointment, he felt horrible about himself for having said this.
Watch yourself, Carter,
he reminded himself as he patted her hand and tried to comfort her.
“It’s just,” he said, “maybe it would be better to go out there on a Saturday, when we had time to actually do stuff. What do you think?”
“Sure,” Lilah said. “Fine. Turn around if that’s what you want.”
They pulled off onto a dirt road that had been built over the swampy marshland.
As the car rolled to a stop, Lilah leaned into him and whispered huskily into his ear. “We could pretendto watch the sunset. Or find something else to do. Since we’re here.”
She pulled back and bit her lower lip, daring him to surprise her.
They got out and Carter sat on the hood of the car, Lilah taking his hand and pulling his arm around her as she
“Well,” she said, her voice edging toward annoyance, “there was one time that was more important than the others.”
Over the past few weeks, they’d wandered every inch of Dream Point: the bench at the end of the promenade, of course, but also the corner of Flamingo and Hummingbird Lane, where after driving slowly around town for hours, he’d found her wandering aimlessly, lost in dark hopelessness after she’d been booted off the swim team. And the Native American statue, where they used to meet before either of them could drive, and Enoteca Medici on Flamingo Row, where they’d gone for dinner before prom. And so many more locations. It was like all she wanted to do was revisit their history together. Carter found it sort of sweet, if a little depressing.
“You gonna tell me?” he said eventually.
“You’ll figure it out,” she said.
Carter focused on the road for a while. He tapped his finger against the steering wheel to the beat of the Mac Miller song streaming through the car’s speakers.
“Right there,” she said as a McDonald’s appeared up ahead of them. “You remember now?” When Cartershrugged, she elaborated. “The summer after sophomore year, just after your dad gave you the BMW? We drove out here? And we stopped at this McDonald’s along the way.”
“We did?” Carter said. He had no memory of stopping at McDonald’s. Why would he? A McDonald’s was a McDonald’s was a McDonald’s.
Lilah could sense Carter’s weariness. Hoping to reel him back to her, she filled the gulf between them with words. “That was the first time,” she said, “when I understood what it would be like to be a grown-up with you. You knew so much about the plants and animals we were seeing. Just listening to you talk about what we were looking at—I felt like I could do that forever. And remember, we found that little falling-down wooden hut and . . .”
She grinned at him and covered his hand with her own, nudging it slowly up her inner thigh.
“I thought we could drive out there and see if we could find it again.”
He remembered the day, how beautiful it had been, how romantic, holding hands as they walked along the faded wooden walkway through the swamps, keeping their eyes out for alligators and whooping cranes, hoping against hope to see a panther, and then the thrill of sneaking into that hut, of taking all their clothes off and having sex out there in that place where anyone mightcome along and catch them. He wished he could summon those feelings again, but mostly all he felt around Lilah now was weariness over trying to fake being happy, and worry that she might harm herself again.
“Lilah, really,” he said to her, “it’s, like, six p.m. It’s not like we’re going to drive for another hour and wander around the swamp tonight.”
Carter drove past the McDonald’s without stopping, and Lilah turned to see it go by.
“We could watch the sunset together, at least,” she said.
“We’re on the wrong side for that. You can’t see the sunset through the mangroves,” he said. “It’s just going to be all shadows.”
Then, as her face buckled with disappointment, he felt horrible about himself for having said this.
Watch yourself, Carter,
he reminded himself as he patted her hand and tried to comfort her.
“It’s just,” he said, “maybe it would be better to go out there on a Saturday, when we had time to actually do stuff. What do you think?”
“Sure,” Lilah said. “Fine. Turn around if that’s what you want.”
They pulled off onto a dirt road that had been built over the swampy marshland.
As the car rolled to a stop, Lilah leaned into him and whispered huskily into his ear. “We could pretendto watch the sunset. Or find something else to do. Since we’re here.”
She pulled back and bit her lower lip, daring him to surprise her.
They got out and Carter sat on the hood of the car, Lilah taking his hand and pulling his arm around her as she
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