Turned out, her name was Priya and she was Mary's future granddaughter-in-law. They'd been at St. Martin's to shop and check out the historic town square, some girl bonding before the wedding. Considering the fact that Mary had slipped out of the car while Priya, who was not familiar with Point Bridge's unique quirk, was on the phone with the local police, she was lucky there was still going to be a wedding. I wasn't exactly an expert on relationships, but losing your fiance's dementia-addled grandmother seemed like the kind of thing that could put a strain on a couple.

Mary put up a fight at first, not wanting to be separated from "Steven", but Priya knew how to deal with her. As she thanked us for the millionth time, leaving me with her business card ("If you ever need a favor that a photographer can help with") and Keller with her elderly grandmother-in-law's lipstick on his cheek, a very familiar sound echoed over the bay. Point Bridge turning on its creaky hinges. It was fixed.

The sun had set by now, so almost everyone else had gone back to the warmth of their cars. Traffic would be moving soon-including all my friends, who were at least a quarter mile down the road.

"Shoot. We need to go." Keller started running towards his truck, and I followed, almost without thinking.

Around us, drivers started their engines up again. I could see the front of the line starting to move. Keller ran faster, which wasn't great for me, since my legs were way shorter and I wasn't nearly as athletic as he was. Lungs burning, I did my best to keep up. I spotted his truck, but the cars in front of him were already driving off. There was no way I'd catch up to Sam.

The blare of horns from the cars backed up behind him greeted us as we threw ourselves into the truck, Keller fumbling with his keys. I slumped in the front seat and placed a hand to my racing heart. The truck rumbled to life and began moving. With all my huffing and puffing, I almost missed Keller's laughter. It wasn't what I expected from a guy like him. It was high-pitched and... what was that word Mrs. Grady put on our vocab list? Gleeful.

I couldn't help laughing with him, and then as I really thought about what had happened over the past hour, I laughed so hard my stomach cramped. We drove down the highway, windows rolled down, howling like a couple of lunatics. When we finally calmed down, I had tears on my face and I felt lighter than I had in a long time.

I should call Amanda or Zach, tell them I'd meet them at the bowling alley. Ask Keller to drop me off.

Except he said, "Do you wanna go somewhere?"

And I did.

We ended up parked at one of the beaches in Victoria, not one of the touristy ones, but a grassy shore where Keller's truck was the only vehicle around. It was a perfect night, and I was overwhelmed with the desire to capture it somehow: the soft sound of the waves, the glittering lights in the sky, and the beautiful boy next to me. I wanted to put this night in my pocket so I could pull it out and look at it again and again.

I dangled my legs over the edge of the truck bed, my shoes abandoned next to me, letting the long grass tickle my bare feet. Keller sat close enough that our shoulders would brush every now and then, and that little touch was enough to keep me warm.

"First that insane racoon, now the dementia patient." Keller's words were low and playful. "Does disaster follow you everywhere, or am I just special?"

"You're not," I chirped. "Welcome to the life of Lissa DeLuca. You're lucky you're just passing through, this place is a real nightmare."

"It's not so bad." He smiled at me, and I felt it to my toes. When neither of us looked away, the air between us became a little more charged. Keller's smile slipped, and I saw something like confusion in his eyes. Or curiosity.

His hand came up towards my face, his fingers only barely grazing my jaw. I closed my eyes to the touch, and then his mouth was on mine. The kiss was slow and sweet, spreading through my veins like syrup, and when he pulled back, I almost wanted to ask him to try it again. Maybe if he kissed me enough times, the thrill of it would wear off.

"I'm sorry," Keller said, his voice unexpectedly rough. "I shouldn't have done that."

I cleared my throat and leaned back, putting some distance between us. "What is this?"

He suddenly looked flustered. "I'm not looking for a relationship. I'm done with those, for a while."

I could tell he was worried this would upset me. It didn't. I'd known for a long time that I was never going to be his girlfriend. Still, I couldn't resist saying, dryly, "See, that's usually the kind of thing you tell a girl before you kiss her. Twice."

He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I meant to. Before Mary showed up. And then... well, it didn't really go according to plan."

I shrugged. "Luckily for you, I'm not under any delusions. You and I are not going to date."

He frowned. "We're not?"

Wasn't that just like a boy, to tell you they didn't want something and then get offended when you told them they couldn't have it?

"No, we're not," I said firmly. "You have a type, Keller. Every girl you date comes with big dreams and a first class ticket to anywhere but here. They know what they want and they're going places. And that's not me."

He studied me. I wish I knew him well enough to understand what those looks meant. "What if I'm tired of that? What if I want a break from girls who always try to fix me and save me from all my problems?"

I flushed at that. St. Martin's was a small island, which meant that everyone knew everyone else's business, and unfortunately for Keller, his business was more interesting than most. I only knew what everyone else did. His mom left when he was three, and his war veteran dad may have been a hero once, but now he was the town drunk who couldn't hold down a job unless he was dating his boss. Keller's life was the kind of mess that I could see a girl wanting to tidy. If I was being honest, I wasn't much better. The thought of his broken home made me want to wrap my arms around him and take away all his worries.

"Then what do you want?" I managed.

"I want to have fun." He took one of my curls, tugging it gently. "And you're a lot of fun, Lissa."

I pulled back sternly. "I'm not that much fun."

His laugh was devilish. "That's not what I meant. I just think we should do this more often."

"And by this, you mean..."

"Hang out." His lips quirked. "I can't wait to see what kind of trouble you'll get into next." He stuck his hand out, offering it for me to shake. "So. Friends?"

My heart hammered against my ribs. This was the speech I'd expected, and yet, it didn't feel like he was blowing me off. Maybe he actually did want to be friends. Could I do that? Be just friends with James Keller?

What was the alternative? Avoid him forever? I didn't think I was physically capable of doing that.

"On one condition." I purposefully held my hand back. "I can't call you Keller."

He laughed. "You really hate that name, don't you?"

I must have made some kind of face at his question, because he pointed at me.

"See? Right there."

"It's just... it's such a cool guy thing," I protested. "Like hey, I'm Keller, I'm too cool to go by my first name. It's got major frat boy vibes."

He leaned in like he was going to share a secret, his eyes dancing. "What if I really am just too cool to go by my first name?"

My stomach flip-flopped. If we were going to be friends, he'd have to learn not to look at me like that. "I like James. What's wrong with James?"

All the teasing left his expression. "My mom picked it. It's her dad's name."

"Oh." I couldn't think of anything else to say. I knew very little about his relationship with his mom, but it had to suck. An awkward silence fell over us. Just to clear the tension, I asked, "What about your middle name?"

He drummed his fingers against his jeans for a moment, like he was considering whether or not to tell me. Then, sounding embarrassed, "Benjamin."

"Aww!" I reached over and pinched his cheeks. "I'll call you Benji! That's so cute. Benji."

"Absolutely not." He crossed his arms, scowling. "There is zero chance that I will ever answer to Benji. It's just not gonna happen."

I rolled my eyes. "Well you gotta give me something."

He thought about it for a moment. "My dad calls me Jamie."

"Jamie," I repeated. It felt nice in my mouth. The kind of name you would give to a boy with red cheeks and golden curls. "I like it."

"I'm glad you approve." Smiling, Keller-Jamie-put his hand out again. "And now I held up my end, so you have to shake on it."

This time, I took it, ignoring the fluttering in my stomach at the way his palm fit against mine. "Just friends it is."