Heather
×××

I tell myself I don't care.

Robin can flirt with whoever she wants. She should flirt with whoever she wants. It's a good thing, really. Maybe she's finally moving on, and maybe-just maybe-I can too.

That's the rational thought, the one I repeat like a mantra.

And yet, as I stand on the deck, half-listening to Javis go over tomorrow's schedule, my eyes keep drifting toward her.

Robin is sitting on the outdoor couch, her legs tucked beneath her, a half-empty mimosa in her hand. And right next to her, leaning in way too close, is her.

Ali.

I don't know much about her except that she's staying in one of the guest rooms, and within two hours of arriving, she's attached herself to Robin like they've known each other forever. She's tall, with dark, smooth skin and this effortless confidence that makes it obvious she's used to people looking at her.

And Robin is definitely looking at her.

She's smiling-really smiling, the kind that crinkles the corners of her eyes. Laughing too. Light, easy, like she doesn't have a care in the world. And then-

She touches Ali's arm.

Something tightens in my chest.

It's nothing, I tell myself.

Robin's always been touchy, always had this effortless way of drawing people in. But something about the way she leans in, the way her fingers graze Ali's forearm before she pulls back, makes me grip my glass just a little too hard.

Javis catches me staring. "Looks like Robin finally found someone, huh?"

I don't look at him. I keep my eyes on my drink, swirling the condensation around with my fingers.

"Yeah," I say, my voice even. "Looks like it."

Javis chuckles. "About time. I was starting to think she'd be single forever."

I force a laugh, but it feels wrong. "Yeah. Good for her."

It's not good.

I don't know why I feel like this. I don't want to feel like this. But watching Robin flirt with someone else makes me feel like the ground beneath me is shifting, like I don't know where I'm supposed to stand anymore.

So I do the only thing I can.

I look away.

But the problem with looking away is that it doesn't help.

Because every time I glance back, they're still there.

Robin, leaning into Ali's space like it's the easiest thing in the world. Ali, looking at her like she's something worth paying attention to.

I focus on my breathing, on the warmth of the fire from the pit, on the feeling of Javis's hand resting lightly on my thigh. I tell myself I'm here, in this moment, with him, and whatever Robin is doing doesn't affect me.

But then Robin laughs-soft and unguarded-and it's a sound I know too well.

It's the kind of laugh that slips out when she's comfortable, when she's letting herself be seen.

I feel it like a flicker of heat under my skin, like an itch I can't quite reach.

Javis keeps talking, something about dinner plans and how he wants to take a boat out in the morning, but I can't make myself focus. Because now Robin is tucking her hair behind her ear, and Ali is watching her with this slow, knowing smile.

Ali leans in just a little more, murmuring something I can't hear.

Robin blushes.

Blushes!

I grip my glass tighter.

"Want another drink?" Javis asks, oblivious.

I blink, snapping my attention back to him. "What?"

"Your drink," he nods toward it. "You've been holding it forever, but you haven't actually had any."

I glance down, realizing the ice has nearly melted.

I force a smile. "No, I'm good."

He studies me for a moment like he can tell something's off, but thankfully, he lets it go.

Robin laughs again, and I swear I feel it under my skin.

I need to get out of here.

×××

Also, the problem with distraction is that it doesn't work.

I busy myself inside the beach house, helping Mom put away some things.

It's peaceful in here-just the soft hum of the little song she's playing in her head.

"Is everything okay?" Mom asks, glancing at me as she folds a napkin.

"Of course." I grab a stack of silverware, arranging them neatly in the drawer like they will never be used.

She watches me for a beat too long, then hums like she doesn't believe me.

"You've barely spoken to me more than five words in weeks," she comments. "Everything okay with you and Javis?"

I roll my eyes. "Yes, Mom. Everything's fine."

I want to snap at her, I want to let her know I'm not having the best days right now. That I hate this and I hate her for making me do this but I don't.

"Just checking." She grins, but it's laced with that knowing-mother look, the one that always makes me feel like she can see right through me.

I move to wipe the sink, focusing on that instead of whatever's brewing in my chest.

The door swings open, and suddenly the house is filled with the sound of voices-Robin's voice.

"That was fun," she says, her tone light.

I don't turn around.

Ali laughs. "Told you I'd win."

Robin groans. "Okay, but that game was rigged."

"You just don't like losing."

Robin huffs dramatically. "I hate losing. But I especially hate losing to smug people."

I glance over my shoulder just in time to see Ali smirk. "Well, get used to it."

Robin bumps her shoulder playfully, and they both start laughing again.

It's too easy. The way they talk, the way Robin lets her guard down. Too fucking soon.

I tell myself it doesn't matter. That I have no right to feel this way.

But then Ali says, "You're cute when you're mad," and Robin doesn't correct her.

Something in my stomach twists.

I swallow down the feeling and turn back to the sink, pressing my hands against the metal to ground myself.

Mom leans in slightly, lowering her voice. "You sure everything's fine?"

I don't look at her.

I just nod even when I would rather be out there ripping Ali's head off her shoulders.