es politely, but he doesn’t seem to recognize her. He introduces me to Taylor, or Tay-dog as Rob had called him, and he leads us into the house and through to the back deck. There’s a great view of the ocean and coolers of beer between the comfortable but not expensive deck furniture. The grill is still going, but the burgers and dogs on it are all charcoal.
There’s a mix of teens and college-age kids here, but there’s no more than three or four years of an age difference among them. It’s obvious that the core of this group has known each other for many summers. These are the vacation friends I gave up for the Hamptons set.
Olive’s family has a house in Southampton, and by the time we were freshmen, the Five of us couldn’t bear to be separated for a whole month. I traded my grandparents and this woodsier West Coast clique for the posh and polished teenaged spawn of the rich and famous on the East Coast. I traded micro-brew beer for mimosas, and real hugs for air-kisses. I never even thought to think about it.
I don’t know Taylor from the old days, or at least I don’t think I do. He’s one of the year-rounders, and I didn’t meet many of them back in the day. But the next guy they introduce me to I do remember.
‘Liam?’ I say to the tall, blond guy in a button-down shirt and swimming trunks. It’s an odd look, but he’s got an amazing body, so he can pull it off.
He turns and faces me, and there’s a blank moment that is quickly replaced with disbelief. ‘Magda,’ he breathes. ‘You’re back?’
Liam gives me a hug, and we both laugh. We had a thing the last summer I was here. We were only thirteen, so it never progressed past handholding and a few regrettably limp-lipped kisses that promptly ended my interest in him, but he was a nice guy. Can’t remember how we lost touch. I probably just never texted him back.
‘It’s good to see you,’ I say. ‘You look great.’
‘You look amazing,’ Liam replies, and I notice a touch of disappointment.
‘OK, OK, break it up,’ Rob says laughingly. He takes my hand. ‘You’ve got a girlfriend,’ he reminds Liam.
Liam looks away, and an awkward moment passes between him and Rob. Liam turns to me. ‘Did you ever meet Mila?’ he asks.
I’ve got an unreliable memory at the best of times lately, but I’m still good at reading other people. A quick glance at Rob tells me that he knows I haven’t met her.
‘No. I’d love to, though.’
I know who she is before we join the group of girls chatting over a tin bucket full of iced and fruited Blue Moons. She glances at me, and I almost call out the wrong name. They aren’t dead ringers by any means, but the essence of them is the same. Mila ticks off every box – impossible body, flawless skin, and a luscious mane of hair, although hers is a natural lemon blonde. Her sandals are Prada, her earrings are Tiffany’s, and the way she dresses is five minutes more stylish than the other girls around her. They all tilt towards her slightly, even when she isn’t talking. They all want to be her.
Mila is their Jinka. The way she stands, the way she listens, the way she smiles . . . the way she is . . . the resemblance is almost overwhelming.
She looks right at me before Liam interrupts the group and introduces me. I compliment her, so she knows I’m not going to be any trouble. She does the same, calling my dress a ‘throwback’ but with genuine appreciation. The other girls’ names flash past, and I smile and nod. A curvaceous little Earth Mother hippie named Aura-Blue, probably a year-rounder, asks me if I want something to drink.
‘I can get you water,’ Rob offers, gesturing back inside the house.
‘You know, I’ll go with you. I need to use the Ladies,’ I say, and then make a swift getaway.
Rob takes my hand again as he leads me through the crowded house. ‘That was masterful,’ he says with a raised eyebrow. ‘Already eluding your competition?’
‘I’m no competition for her,’ I say, shaking my head.
‘No,’ Rob says, coming to a stop in front of the bathroom. He regards me thoughtfully. ‘She’s no competition for you.’
‘I appreciate that,’ I say. I untangle my hand from his. ‘But this isn’t a competition. And I don’t want anything she has.’
‘Including Liam?’
‘Rob,’ I warn, ‘I don’t play like that.’ And I close the door between us.
Rob spends the rest of the night showing me off. He tells everyone stories about things he remembers ‘the old gang’ doing. I don’t remember half of the memories he recounts, but that’s my new normal since I started taking the meds. He talks about how I was the centre of everything.
His stories are hilarious, and since I’m past caring what anyone thinks of me, I don’t mind that he tells a story about me getting drunk at the country club and puking in a senator’s golf cart. I don’t remember it, and I’ve done way worse since. Things I do remember. And wish I didn’t.
I laugh along with everyone and ask if the senator was a Democrat or a Republican. That gets another laugh and an appreciative smile from Rob. I’m playing along. His dutiful backup singer, making him sound great.
At the end of the night, Rob takes me home. There’re a few moments of silence when I can feel him gearing up to say something before he sighs heavily and jumps in.
‘Look, about earlier this evening,’ he says. He glances over at me and gets specific. ‘When I picked you up and acted like a jackass?’
He really is a funny, charming guy. I laugh, and he smiles and reaches for my hand.