Welcome to Corbet's Inlet, North Carolina, where the teenagers act like adults and the adults act like teenagers. It's Griffin Connolly's favorite place in the world. And while she may not be good at making decisions when it comes to her own life, s...
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Griffin hesitated in the Family Grill entryway.
The Fourth of July cookout was already packed with couples and little kids and pretty much the entire CICC waitstaff. No one Griffin's age was in sight, and it made walking in with her parents fifty times more awkward.
"I'm not sure if Connie or any of the other girls are here yet," Griffin's mom said. She scanned the room and gave a smile and a subtle wave to someone over by the bar. "Griffin, are Lauren and Matty coming, honey? Or do they have to work the event?"
Matty was around here somewhere. He'd texted the group chat Griffin started this morning that he could pick anyone up on his golf cart on the way to the club, if they wanted. Charlie and Evan agreed. Lauren didn't respond.
"They're coming," Griffin said, adjusting her shoulder strap again. The romper she settled on was supposed to be navy blue, but the cotton fabric was a shade too light to hide the stress sweat.
"Howard! Melissa!" someone called out.
Griffin and her parents looked left, and dear God.
The Crenshaws were closing in on them, in all their matching stars and stripes glory. Mrs. Crenshaw was in a red, white, and blue dress that looked straight out of the fifties. Mr. Crenshaw was in a three-piece suit replica of the American flag.
Griffin stood awkwardly off to the side while they exchanged handshakes and air kisses with her parents.
"Can't believe what they're doing to the golf course this close to the tournament," Mr. Crenshaw said to her dad.
"I'm thinking next week's garden club brunch should be off-island," Mrs. Crenshaw said to her mom.
Griffin did another sweep of the room. It'd be a miracle if she spotted Matty through the hordes of balloons and streamers and over-the-top decorations. Wide-open French doors. White table cloths with star confetti. Lanterns lit up with tea lights. The adults were schmoozing. The nannies were chasing their kids around the patio or through the buffet line.
Griffin frowned at it all.
She was in no position to judge—this was like looking straight into a time capsule of all the summers she'd spent here growing up. She used to live for Fourth of July. Used to plan out her outfit for this cookout months in advance. Nothing about it had changed. So why did she feel so...underwhelmed this year?
"Griffin, honey," her mom said.
She faced her parents again. Their conversations with the Crenshaws must have shifted to her, because all four of them were looking at her expectantly.
"I'm sorry, what was that?" she said.
"We were very surprised to hear you had a change in college plans this summer," Mrs. Crenshaw said, smoothing the front of her dress.
