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The table conversation was peaceful and fun.

His folks peppered Emery with the usual questions: Where she was from?

What did her parents do for a living? How did she like school?

They were impressed she was an honor student who lettered in two sports.

Even better, she made Dad laugh with a story about snowboarding into a tree.

“Our daughter is a talented athlete,” Mom said. “Have you met Cassidy?”

“No, not yet.” She glanced at Caleb. “So you’re going to be the starting quarterback?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Dad said. “He’s got quite an arm and a good football IQ.”

“Cassidy can launch that softball from center field to home plate.” Mom dished more salad onto her plate. “Emery, more lasagna? You must take home a couple of pieces for your parents.”

“Thank you. Dad is crazy for Italian food. Can I help wash up, Mrs. Ransom?”

“No, no, I’ll let them soak while I mix up the brownies. You and Caleb can set up the game he wanted to—” The kitchen door banged against the wall as a very drunk Cassidy stumbled inside.

“I’m home.” She flung her arms wide, wearing a stupid grin. Her hair stuck out like she’d been in a wind tunnel. “And I’m drunk .” She dropped into the chair next to Emery’s, laughing. “Hey, you ... you’re Emery. My brother is in looove with you.”

“ Cassidy, shut up.”

“Why? I know you are, little bro.” She slurred every word and almost slid out of the chair. Twice. “So you . . .” Cassidy tapped Emery’s chest. “Don’t go breaking his heart. Or I’ll have to kick your a—”

“Caleb,” Dad said. “Why don’t you take Emery to the Beachwalk for dessert?” He took a couple of tens from his money clip. “Emery, it was nice to have you here.”

Mom said good-bye, standing at the sink with her back to the kitchen. “Nice to meet you, Emery.”

Caleb tried to swallow it, but he seethed with every bitter and foul name. Emery walked quietly beside him past the Starlight to the Beachwalk. Seeing the Gulf, Caleb kicked off his flip-flops and raced for the water.

“Caleb, wait.” Emery ran after him. “What are you doing?”

“Cooling off.” He dove into a low curling wave, staying under as long as he could before bouncing to the surface, smacking into Emery, who’d lunged for him, knocking them both back under the water.

“You idiot. You scared me,” she said when they surfaced, the flower from her hair floating in the sea foam .

“It’s only a teeny, tiny Gulf of Mexico wave, Em.” He caught her with one arm and held her steady as the surf dragged along the ocean floor, tugging their feet, trying to pull them under.

Emery grabbed his shoulders to stay upright. “Is that how she always is?”

“That was a new low,” he said, walking against the tide, gripping Emery by the waist.

On the beach, they plopped next to where Emery had flung her purse. Water drained from their skin and clothes, making a pool around them. At eight o’clock, the sun was too far west to dry Emery by the time he took her home.

“ What will your dad say when you come home with wet clothes?”

“Nothing, when I tell him I had to save you from drowning.”

“Oh, okay, I see how it is.” He laughed low.

“I swim like a fish, for your information.” He gently swept aside a lock of her hair curling over her eye.

The tip of his finger barely grazed her skin, and now he wanted to kiss her.

“She wasn’t always like this. Mad at the world.

I think something happened right before school let out, but she won’t talk to me, or anyone.

Dad wanted to take her to a doctor, and she flipped.

Refused to go. If Mom says it’s a nice day, Cass goes off about melting polar ice caps.

I used to love being home. Now I get a knot in my stomach when I walk through the door. ”

Caleb flopped down on the beach and listened to the waves, cooling the last of his angst. When Emery stretched out next to him, the world almost felt right again.

“I’m working at the Starlight this weekend,” he said, searching for her hand and hooking his little finger with hers, wondering if she could feel the power of his heartbeat. “You should come.”

“Do I get the employee discount?”

Caleb grinned. “You’re so special, Emery Quinn.”

“So are you, Caleb Ransom.” She looked over and brushed something from his hair—the twisted, limp stem of a flower.

He tried to weave what remained into her braid, but the damage had been done. He dropped the flower to the sand. “Want to get dessert?”

They decided on cinnamon buns and a Diet Coke from Mr. Callier’s truck, Delicious Dave. When Caleb handed him a soggy ten, he didn’t ask. Just pressed it between two napkins and counted out the change.

Sitting on the nearest Beachwalk bench, they ate and slurped, not saying much. When he glanced at her, she smiled. Once, he looked up to see she was watching him. The warmth in her eyes inspired a brand-new set of sweat beads.

A t nine forty-five, he walked her toward the Sands. “I had fun.”

“Me too.” Her hand brushed his.

“Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?” Because he couldn’t imagine tomorrow otherwise.

“Maybe,” she said, slowing as they approached the motel’s beachside courtyard. When she turned to him, her eyes were on his lips. He pulled her close and rested her hands on his chest.

“Emery, I was wondering if I could—”

“You’re home early, Em. By five minutes.” Mr. Quinn stood in the doorway of Cottage 1. “Delilah was playing some of her records for Mom and me. Did you have fun? Emery, why are you wet?”

“I had to rescue a drowning kid.” She tiptoed up to whisper in Caleb’s ear, “See you tomorrow, Ransom.”

“I told you lifeguard training would come in handy,” her dad said.

Emery ducked under his arm into the warm, peaceful-looking atmosphere of Cottage 1. Peace. That’s all Caleb wanted. Peace again. “Good night, Mr. Quinn.”

“Night, Caleb.”

Heading down the Beachwalk toward home, passing under the old lamps and palm trees, he realized that when Emery left for Cleveland, she’d be taking his heart with her.