It was nearly impossible to avoid someone in a town like Henley. There were only so many places to go, so many intersections and stoplights and restaurants. There were only so many trees with trunks big enough to duck behind.

So after nearly three successful weeks of dodging Graham, Ellie was feeling pretty proud of herself. She’d seen him just twice from afar, and he was always flanked by enough of an entourage—paparazzi, film crew, and fans—to act as a warning signal.

Quinn, on the other hand, seemed to be everywhere. Although that didn’t mean they’d spoken—they hadn’t. In fact, they’d hardly said a word to each other in weeks.

“How’s Quinn?” Mom would ask, completely oblivious, whenever Ellie returned after a shift at Sprinkles, and there was nothing to do but plaster a smile on her face.

“She’s great,” she’d say, fighting back the words underneath those, which were too depressing to admit: I have absolutely no idea.

It wasn’t entirely her fault, this thing between them, and if Quinn weren’t so stubborn, it would have blown over weeks ago. Still, Ellie was the one who’d started it, and she wished desperately she could find a way to apologize. But she’d drafted e-mails without managing to send them and prepared speeches without managing to say them.

At work, Quinn had taken to bringing Devon as a kind of shield against any real discussion, and the two of them would sit at one end of the counter, talking and joking, while Ellie stood awkwardly at the other end, as far away as was possible in such a small space. Every now and then, Quinn would ask Ellie for a cup or a spoon using the kind of polite but icy tone you might adopt when speaking to a complete stranger you’d heard nothing but awful things about—but that was it. Even on the hottest days, when the sun bore down on the town with a spiteful intensity, she never bothered to ask whether Ellie had put on sunscreen anymore.

About a week ago, just as Ellie started to wonder if she’d actually managed to become invisible, she overheard them talking about a party at the beach.

“Big plans tonight?” she asked as casually as she could manage, but this was only met with a lengthy silence. When it became obvious that Quinn wasn’t going to respond, Devon cleared his throat.

“Just a barbeque,” he said. “Should be pretty low-key.”

“Which means no celebrities,” Quinn said without looking up.

Ellie swallowed hard. There was no way for Quinn to know what had happened between her and Graham. And it would have been so easy, right then, to let the whole story come spilling out, to watch it register across Quinn’s face: first as guilt for ignoring her at a time like this, then as regret for not being there, then as sympathy for what she was going through.

But Ellie wasn’t looking for pity. She was looking for her friend.

Besides, telling her would mean having to answer that most difficult of questions—why had she walked away from him in the first place?—which would only bring them back to the place where this had all started: a secret that couldn’t be told.

“Which beach is it?” Ellie asked, and Quinn glanced over at her for the first time, her eyes flashing.

“It’s a secret,” she said pointedly.

After that, Ellie decided it wasn’t even worth trying. Instead, she set about ignoring Quinn in the same way that Quinn was ignoring her, which only served to create a wall between them so much thicker than if it had been built by only one of them.

Still, it was worse with Graham. It might take time with Quinn, but Ellie knew she would come around eventually. This wasn’t the first time they’d fought, and it wouldn’t be the last.

With Graham, however, Ellie suspected she’d broken something that might never be fixed. That night when he showed up at her house, she’d sat huddled at the top of the stairs, listening to the voices drifting through the front door, and wishing she had the courage to walk downstairs and tell her mom to let him in, to say that none of the rest of it mattered: not the past, not their secrets, and especially not her father.

But she’d made her decision. She’d walked away from him at the harbor that day, and now she was left playing a desperate game of espionage as she skulked around town, trying her hardest not to run into him again.

Because the truth was, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to walk away a second time.

And so today, like every day, Ellie stood in the doorway of Happy Thoughts, looking left and then right before stepping outside. It had been only three weeks since they’d forked over enough money to get the air conditioner at home fixed, and now, on the hottest day of the summer, the one at the shop had broken down too, sputtering to a halt with one last dying groan. After a morning spent alternately fanning themselves and banging on the rusted hunk of metal, Mom finally sent Ellie out for some iced tea.

On the village green, someone had set up a sprinkler, and there were a few kids in saggy bathing suits running through the water. Most everyone else was inside today, waiting for the shimmering heat to break. But even so, Ellie scanned the area with the nervous air of a criminal as she crossed the green, casting furtive glances at the shops on the other side.

The town’s only deli had replaced a Henley institution the year before, a little general store called Marv’s that had been there as long as anyone could remember, and as a nod to tradition, it was now called the Sandwich Shop Where Marv’s Once Was, which was still inevitably shortened to Marv’s. As soon as she pushed open the door, Ellie sighed with relief at the cool air, which lifted the heavy coat of heat right off her. Her cheeks were still flushed and her tank top was still sticking to her, but she felt immediately better. It was like walking into a refrigerator.

This Is What Happy Looks Like

This Is What Happy Looks Like(37)Author: Jennifer E. Smith

This Is What Happy Looks Like(37)
Author: Jennifer E. Smith