Page 155 of Find My Way Down to You

I laugh. Some things in my life haven’t changed. But it feels good to have my best friend back.

The flow of customers stays constant. I jump in to help Arden reset tables. Clean up the messes large families leave behind. Together, we work down the dishes piling up. Fold napkins around silverware between delivery orders.

Kennedy pops by with wild eyes. She shoves a warm plate in my hands. “August, can you take this over to table nine?”

“Why can’t Max?”

She tuts. “You mean the same Max who’s too busy making eyes with that pretty girl?”

I glance over my shoulder. Sure enough, Max is blatantly flirting with a Black girl who has glowing brown skin and shoulder-length locs. Her UCSB sweatshirt is cut into a cute halter top.

Before I can say anything else, Kennedy walks away, calling out, “Thanks, love you!”

Sighing, I march over to the corner booth.

The sun frames a boy’s angular face. He has a warm gold complexion. Dark hair that falls in loose curls. He wears a navy-and-white-striped T-shirt. His silver chain has three red-jeweled charms in the shape of dog paws hanging from the end.

He’s the kind of pretty that’s almost unapproachable if not for the way he smiles. Sweet like honey.

My stomach flips. Heat stirs in my chest. A few weeks ago, I told Rebecca I wasconsideringdating again. I think it’s what London would’ve wanted. More importantly, it’s what I want.

No one’s caught my eye yet. I’m too busy discovering August again. But when I look at this boy, a tender lullaby starts in my ears.

The call of the sea.

I place the plate in front of him. Trying not to stare, my eyes lower to the pizza slice. His choice of toppings is…interesting.

“Pineapple, pepperoni, and jalapeños?”

He tilts his head. “I heard it’s good.”

“You heard right,” I confirm.

His smile brightens. That bud in my chest blooms. A strange, almost familiar heat tingles through my limbs.

The boy leans forward. A single curl sweeps over his brow. “What’s your name?”

“August.”

“August,” he repeats, slow and deliberate. As if he’s tasting the flavor of my name. Deciding whether he likes it. I don’t know why that drags a blush into my cheeks. “Are people allowed to call you Auggie?”

I cock my chin. “Only people I trust. And like.”

One of his thick eyebrows curves. “Then I hope to be both one day.”

My laugh is a sharp, surprised noise. “Wow. That’s bold of you.”

He drums long fingers on the table to the music playing. “Life’s too short to be scared of rejection. We only have moments, Auggie.”

I like the sound of his voice. His accent. I can’t quite place where I’ve heard it before. He’s not from around here. Probably just visiting, like so many in Santa Barbara.

I also like the way his eyes never leave my face. As if he wants toseeme, fully.

“Who said I was rejecting you?” I tease.

The corners of his mouth soften. A new world unfolding.

“You never told me your name,” I say.