《 WATTY'S SHORTLIST 2021 》━ ❝WELCOME TO HART'S BAY.❞ where opposites attract. featuring » » » an ex-varsity swimmer and a hockey player. a once-wealthy server and a surfer on exchange. a daytime cashier and her nighttime counterpart. | presenting...
The storm of the century. That's what everyone calls it.
But few will care enough to talk about the aftermath. The broken pieces that need to be put together again. The different types of hurting and how they change six individuals. The seemingly impossible task of picking up where one left off.
How it's affected not just the town, but lives.
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The next morning isn't quite as bad. Which isn't saying much considering that last night, the storm had torn through Hart's and the weatherman had predicted an almost-certain death for anyone daring to step outside for a minute.
But it's saying a lot for Cate.
She'd overheard Alex trying to call three times after she'd closed the bedroom door behind her and that made her think: maybe they had something in common? Of course, he was far more persistent than she was, but the end result was the same.
Nothing.
She had thought about this as she laid in bed, counting the tiny fractures in the ceiling and trying to drown out her memories of Alendale—until finally, sleep found her at half past two in the morning. She'd dreamed of a different Alendale—of home, of a long time ago, of hopping up and down on the boardwalk and accepting a dripping ice cream cone from her mom. Mostly of her mom.
It isn't until a quarter to eight, when she's stumbling into the living room and Alex asks, "Had a good sleep?" that she realizes as she nods: she's slept through the entire night without waking up once. It's been a while since she's done that. "You?" she asks, noting that his smile starts to slip as he runs a hand through his unruly hair.
He responds with his own question: "Did you hear the rain?"
She shakes her head; he rises to his feet.
"We should probably head to the house," he murmurs, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his blue shorts without looking at her. "Sean said we're heading out right after breakfast."
What's wrong? Cate wonders as she follows him down the narrow footpath. But she doesn't ask—it's easier to not ask. She's afraid to find out the answer, or be asked the same question if she's being honest. It must be bad if he's keeping his eyes on the wet grass instead of the low-hanging petunia petals.
So instead, she stays quiet as breakfast is cleared from the table, as the car pulls onto the freeway, until she watches Alex tap absentmindedly at his phone for the umpteenth time since he's stood up from the armchair in the living room and she can't stand it any longer—
—and blurts out, "We should stop in Port Brinley."
To her surprise, Alex seems less enthused by the idea than Sean. Indifferent, even. He gazes out the window while Sean exclaims, "Right, I should drop by the store."
