“So…” I looked at the crowd again, many of whom were now regarding me with skepticism, my family with alarm. And I saw, in the back near the projection booth, as clearly as if they had a spotlight shining on them, Henry and Davy. Henry was looking at me with an expression of pity that was somehow worse than Warren’s look of horror. I looked down at my notes again, my vision blurring. I couldn’t seem to make any words out, and I could feel the silence stretching on and on, and my panic growing, until I was pretty sure I was about to cry.

“So thanks so much for coming!” Miraculously, Elliot was by my side, smiling at the crowd like nothing was wrong. “Snack bar’s only open for another thirty minutes, so don’t forget to stop by for popcorn. And please turn off your cell phones. Enjoy the show!”

There was a faint smattering of applause, and a moment later, the FBI warning was flashing blue on the screen. Elliot pulled me away, toward the snack bar, and my legs were shaking so hard, I felt like I was about to fall over.

“I guess I should have listened to you when you said you weren’t good at public speaking,” Elliot said, shooting me a sympathetic look that was meant to make me feel better but somehow made everything worse. I knew I should be able to move on, laugh it off, at least let him know how grateful I was for the rescue. But instead, I could feel the shame creeping over me, and his acknowledgement of how terrible I had been wasn’t helping.

“Thanks,” I muttered, avoiding his gaze. I knew I needed to get out of there, and as fast as possible. “I just have to… I’ll be right back.”

“Taylor?” I heard Elliot call after me, sounding puzzled, but I didn’t care. I speed-walked past the people who were now laughing at Bill Murray’s antics and headed straight for the parking lot. I’d just drive myself home, and in the morning, I would call Jillian and quit.

“Going somewhere?” I whipped around and saw Lucy standing by the Dumpsters, a garbage bag in her hand. She tossed the bag into the trash and then turned to face me, arms folded across her chest.

“No,” I stammered, wondering why I felt so caught out, since I was going to quit in the morning. “I just…”

“Because it would be a really shitty thing to do if you just left me and Elliot. Plus, isn’t your family here?” Lucy was staring right at me, as if daring me to deny any of this. I couldn’t help noticing that whenever she did decide to talk to me, it was generally to point out what a horrible person I was being. “But I’m sure that you were probably getting something from your car,” she continued, dropping the lid of the Dumpster and letting it fall with a bang. “Otherwise, it would be awful if you took off and left, with no explanation, when people were waiting for you.” Even in the dimness of the parking lot—it was almost totally dark now—I could see the hurt in Lucy’s expression, and I knew what she meant, and that she was no longer talking about what was happening now.

“I…” I started, and it was like every word was a challenge, like speaking them was going through an obstacle course. “I did a really bad job,” I finally managed to say. “I don’t know how I can go back there.”

Lucy let out a long breath, and shook her head. “Taylor, it’s okay,” she said, and her voice was gentler than I’d heard it yet this summer. “Nobody cares. Nobody will even remember.” She gave me a small smile, and then turned and strolled back to the concession stand. I looked at my car for a moment, but leaving no longer seemed like it would make me feel any better. In fact, I had the distinct impression that it would make me feel worse.

So I turned and walked back to the concession stand, ducking through the employee entrance. Elliot was ringing someone up for two sodas and a popcorn, and he smiled when he saw me. I busied myself straightening the cups, but it didn’t seem like the customers even noticed me—never mind remembered me as the girl who thoroughly messed up the movie’s introduction.

Lucy met my eye across the concession stand, where she was manning the popcorn machine, and she gave me a small nod, almost imperceptible unless you were watching for it.

Half an hour later, we were locking up the snack bar, and all the people on the beach seemed to be having a good time. The picture had only slid out of focus twice so far, which Elliot told me was much better than Leland’s track record the previous summer.

Lucy had disappeared a few minutes before, and now emerged from the bathroom wearing a jean miniskirt and even more eyeliner than usual. “Wow,” Elliot said, as I yanked on the padlock to make sure it was clicked into place. “I mean, you know. Where are you, um… going?”

“Hot date,” Lucy said, as her phone beeped. She pulled it out and smiled so wide at what she saw, she flashed the dimple in her cheek. “I’ll see you guys,” she said, meeting my eye for a moment before she turned and headed toward the parking lot, and I registered that I had been included, for the first time, in this farewell.

Elliot was still staring after Lucy, his expression wistful, and I yanked on the lock once again, even though it was clearly secured. “Are you going to stay and watch the rest of the movie?” I asked, and he turned back to me, adjusting his glasses hurriedly.

“No,” he said. “I like to see a movie from the beginning. And I think I’ve missed too much.”

I held up my note cards. “I have the plot here if you want to be filled in. Straight from Wikipedia.”

Elliot gave me a faint smile at that. “Thanks anyway. I’ll see you tomorrow, Taylor.”

I nodded, and as I watched him go, realized that I would. That I was staying, that maybe for the first time ever, I hadn’t gone running away when things got hard.

I held my flip-flops in my hand as I picked my way across the beach, ducking low to try and avoid blocking people’s views. I reached my family’s blanket and settled down into the spot next to my dad. My mom was sitting toward the front of the blanket, her back to me, next to Gelsey, who was stretching while she watched. Warren’s book was forgotten next to him and he appeared utterly absorbed, his mouth hanging slightly open, his eyes glued to the screen. I dropped my shoes on the sand, and then sat down, brushing my hand over the blanket to make sure I hadn’t tracked any sand onto it. When I had run out of stalling techniques, I looked over at my dad, his face illuminated by the moonlight and by the flickering light from the screen. But it wasn’t judgmental or disappointed or any of the things I’d been afraid that I would see.