The Last Song(43)

“I just want to know if the nest is okay.”

She continued to glare at him. “Yeah. It’s fine. No thanks to you.” She turned on her heels and stormed toward the exit.

“Wait!” he shouted. “Hold on!”

She ignored him, leaving Will shocked and rooted in place as she pounded through the small lobby and out the front door.

“What the hell was that all about?”

Over his shoulder, Will realized Scott was staring at him from behind the lift.

“Do me a favor,” Will called to him.

“What do you need?”

He fished his keys out of his pocket and started toward the truck he’d parked out back. “Cover for me. I’ve got to take care of something.”

Scott took a quick step forward. “Wait! What are you talking about?”

“I’ll be back as soon as I can. If my dad comes in, tell him I’ll be right back. You can get things started while I’m gone.”

“Where you going?” Scott called.

This time Will didn’t answer, and Scott took a step toward him.

“C’mon, man! I don’t want to do this alone! We’ve got a ton of cars to work on.”

Will didn’t care, and once out of the bay, he jogged toward his truck, knowing where he needed to go.


He found her at the dune an hour later, standing beside the nest, still as angry as she’d been when she’d shown up at the brake shop.

Seeing him approach, she put her hands on her hips. “What do you want?”

“You didn’t let me finish. I did call.”

“Sure you did.”

He inspected the nest. “The nest is fine. What’s the big deal?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. No thanks to you.”

Will felt a ripple of irritation. “What’s your problem?”

“My problem is that I had to sleep outside again last night because the raccoon came back. The same raccoon I told you about!”

“You slept outside?”

“Do you ever listen to anything I say? Yes, I had to sleep outside. Two nights in a row, because you won’t do your job! If I hadn’t been looking out the window at exactly the right moment, the raccoon would have gotten the eggs. He wasn’t more than a couple of feet away from the nest when I finally scared him away. And then I had to stay out here because I knew he was going to come back. Which is why I asked you to call in the first place! And I assumed that even a beach bum like yourself could remember to do your job!”

She stared at him, hands on her hips again, as if trying to annihilate him with her death ray vision.

He couldn’t resist. “One more time, so I have the story straight: You saw a raccoon, then you wanted me to call, then you saw a raccoon again. And you ended up sleeping outside. Is that right?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. Then, whirling away, she made a beeline for her house.

“They’re coming first thing tomorrow!” he called out. “And just to let you know, I did call. Twice, in fact. Once right after I put up the tape, and once more after I got off work. How many times do I have to say this before you’ll listen?”

Though she stopped, she still wouldn’t face him. He went on, “And then this morning, after you left, I went straight to the director of the aquarium and spoke to him in person. He said that this nest will be their first stop in the morning. That they would have come today, but there are eight nests on Holden Beach.”

She slowly turned around and studied him, trying to decide whether he was telling the truth.

“That doesn’t help my turtles tonight, does it?”

“Your turtles?”

“Yeah,” she said. Her tone was emphatic. “My house. My turtles.”

And with that, she turned and went back to her house, this time without caring that he was still there.


He liked her; it was as simple as that.

On his way back to work, he still wasn’t sure why he liked her, but never once had he left work to chase after Ashley. Every time he’d seen her, she’d managed to surprise him. He liked the way she said what was on her mind, and he liked how unfazed she was by him. Ironically, he’d yet to leave a good impression. First he’d spilled soda on her, next she’d seen him almost involved in a riot, and then this morning she’d believed him to be either lazy or an idiot.

No problem, of course. She wasn’t a friend and he didn’t really know her… but for whatever reason, he cared what she thought about him. And not only did he care, but crazy as it sounded, he wanted her to have a good impression of him. Because he wanted her to like him, too.

It was an odd experience, a new one for him, and the rest of the day at the shop—working through lunch to make up for the time he’d missed—he found his thoughts returning to her. He felt that there was something genuine in the way she spoke and acted, something caring and kind beneath the brittle facade. Something that let him know that while he’d disappointed her to this point, there was, with her, always a chance for redemption.