Summer's Last Breath

Part 35

I was sitting on the back patio enjoying the fading sunlight. My dad had finally turned off the grill he'd manned for the last hour and was back in the house, hanging with the adults.

Noah and Donovan had been sitting at the patio table deep in conversation, their hushed tones decidedly energetic as a trail of people, human and breather alike, followed a path from the beach to the house and back.

Now that the party was in full swing, I understood the reason for the copious amounts of food Mrs. Jacobs had prepared. I'd expected the guys to come over, and I had known my dad invited Coach Hall and her husband, and even Ally's parents had made an appearance. What I hadn't expected was the number of Jamie's tribe members that stopped by in a steady stream. Some of them came in the front door and were dressed in street clothes, but just as many emerged from the surf—mostly the guys—despite the cool temperatures. I'd met a few of them the times Jamie and I had eaten at Pirates, so some of the faces were familiar.

Jamie was in the living room and I had a clear view of him through the glass doors. Tate and Lassiter were taking up most of the cushion space on the couch, and Jamie was propped on the armrest with a bowl of crawfish étouffée in his hands. We'd more or less gone our separate ways once our friends started arriving, though I continued to be aware of his every movement, and more than once I'd felt a distinct tingle in my spine only to turn and find Jamie watching me. The hour he'd wanted to stay had quickly turned into two, and it had been obvious we couldn't totally bail on the party, though it was becoming equally obvious we were ready to do just that. My anticipation of the coming night was growing with each distracted breath I took, and I had to squash my disappointment when I heard the doorbell ring, signaling the arrival of another guest. I'd hoped they'd all start leaving soon.

Tate and Lassiter's conversation halted when Quinn, the girl I'd met at Pirates, walked into the living room looking especially lovely. She stopped and spoke to Jamie, and he leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before introducing her to a rapt Tate and Lassiter. She smiled slyly when she saw me through the windows and whispered something in Jamie's ear. He dipped his head and a flush rose in his cheeks. I didn't miss the way Tate and Lassiter watched her appreciatively as she made her way out onto the patio.

"Hey, Noah." She waved flippantly then turned her attention to me and said, "You may not remember, but I'm Quinn."

"I remember." I thought I'd remember any girl Jamie confessed to kissing even if they'd only been ten years old at the time, especially one as pretty as Quinn. She smelled like Jamie, only sweeter, and she possessed an understated beauty that grew more intense the longer you looked at her. Tate still had his eyes on her and I'd noticed Donovan had sat up straighter in his chair when she'd come outside.

"This is for you." As I had come to expect, she placed a shell in my hand.

Mrs. Jacobs had put a crystal bowl on the patio table, and it was already half full of the gifts Jamie's tribe had been bestowing on me—on the both of us. Mrs. Jacobs had explained the shells were well wishes and meant to bring Jamie and I luck and prosperity. I had never seen such a variety of shells, many of them vastly different from the common shells that washed up on the shore here. The one Quinn placed in my hand was a turban shell nearly the size of my palm in a beautiful shade of salmon pink with a marbling of gold.

"It's beautiful." I carefully placed it inside the crystal bowl, adding it to my growing collection.

"Just be careful," she whispered. "Some of these guys think it's funny to bring shells that aren't vacant. You'll know in a couple of days when it starts to stink, or you feel something crawling up your leg."

"Thanks for the warning," I said, admiring the variety of shapes and colors of the shells while checking for signs of spindling legs tucked inside the cavities.