I put the bracelet in my jewelry box and forgot about it. But now I think maybe my dad knew he was eventually going to leave. It was his way of giving me some kind of parting advice before he was gone forever. The day Quinn and Aven and I got into that fight, I went home and slipped the bracelet on. I haven’t taken it off since.
These are the things I’m thinking about while I wait for Beckett to tell me why he called my name, why it is that he stopped me.
He’s certainly taking his time.
The problem is that there are still cars pulling up to the school—parents arriving to take their kids home from the trip. The traffic circle is filled with cars, and now the line is snaking farther down, more toward where Beckett and I are, making privacy impossible.
I’m sitting on the curb, and he’s sitting next to me. My suitcase is on the other side of me, and I’m gripping the handle protectively. If I decide to take off in a hurry, I’m ready. Finally, after most of the cars have cleared out, and the only people left are some stragglers way up by the front door, Beckett speaks.
“I owe you an apology.”
“For?”
“Actually, not really an apology. More of an explanation.”
I wait, but he doesn’t say anything. “Go ahead,” I say. “I’m listening.”
“I need to explain to you about Katie,” he says after another beat of silence. He takes in a deep breath and reaches down and fiddles with his shoelace. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen him do something that even remotely made it seem like he was nervous. Is Beckett anxious? About talking to me?
“Katie and I . . . I’m sorry I brought her into the club with me. I knew you were going to be there, and when I saw you with Derrick, I don’t know . . . I guess I was hoping it might hurt you a little bit to see me show up with another girl.”
I still don’t say anything.
“After I kissed you on the beach, and you . . . you just . . . came to my room and were looking for Derrick, I kind of freaked out.”
“You freaked out? Why?”
“Because I like you, Lyla.” He fiddles with his shoelace some more, and then he turns to look at me. “You’re interesting and gorgeous and smart and you don’t put up with any of my shit. It’s why I came to your room to tell you about Quinn, even though I pretty much knew she was okay.” He shakes his head. “I was trying to make you jealous with Katie. It was a horrible, shitty thing to do and I’m sorry. I just . . . I really felt like maybe if you saw me with someone else, you might decide you wanted to be with me. But it was a stupid idea, and I shouldn’t have used Katie like that.”
“Did you apologize to her, too?”
He nods. “That’s what I was doing when you found her in my room yesterday. I wanted to apologize to her for the way I’d treated her, and tell her that I wanted to be with you. I’d already told her we kissed, that I liked you, but I guess she didn’t quite believe me.”
My first instinct is to tell him he’s a shithead. “What you did wasn’t right,” I say instead.
He nods. “I deserve that.” He’s been moving closer to me on the curb as we’ve been sitting there, so slowly that I don’t even notice until his leg is pressed up against mine. “But don’t I get points for being honest?”
I shake my head no. “I can’t . . . I mean, how could I ever trust you?”
He tilts his head like he’s actually thinking about it. Then he reaches out and takes my head. His palm is warm and comforting, and I don’t pull away. “Trust has to be earned, that’s true,” he says. “But do you think . . . I mean, could you give me a chance?”
Before graduation, I will . . . learn to trust.
I think about the stuff Beckett said about how I only see things in black and white. Is it true? Do I see things in just one shade, either good or bad? And if so, is that really the way I want to live my life?
I think about that email, about how it kept appearing this weekend, about how it’s now stuck on my phone. Do I really know how to trust? Or was it just that Derrick didn’t really make me have to learn? Everything with him was so . . . easy. We never had to work through things, we never even had a real fight. Was I with him just because he didn’t challenge me, because he didn’t make me see things in another way? Looking back, our relationship seems so surface-y. I feel like Beckett and I have gone through more in a few days than Derrick and I did in a couple of years.
“Lyla,” Beckett says again. I turn to look at him, and his face is just a few inches from mine. “Please, I . . . I’m not going to hurt you. I promise.” I can tell that he means it. I can see the sincerity on his face, hear the vulnerability in his voice. I can sense he’s never been this real with a girl before, never really put himself out there in this way.
“I don’t know,” I say, pretending to think about it. “I mean, what is everyone at school going to think?”
“They’re probably going to be shocked that I’ve turned into some kind of lovesick puppy.”
“What are they going to think about me?”
He leans even closer and then breathes into my ear. “I don’t care what they think. All I care about is what I think. And I think you’re perfect.”
And then he kisses me, and the moment fades away into everything I could ever imagine.
I call my mom and tell her that I’m getting a ride home. Of course, I don’t mention who it’s with. Thank god she doesn’t ask questions—when she answers the phone, her voice is all whispery, like she’s still at her yoga class and doesn’t want other people overhearing. She probably assumes Derrick’s taking me home, and she’s probably relieved she doesn’t have to come and get me.
Beckett drove his motorcycle to the school from the airport, but my suitcase won’t fit on the back—so he kisses me one more time and takes off for his house, where he’s going to drop his motorcycle off and then return in his dad’s car—a Dodge Durango, which seems a lot safer.
Even though the sun is starting to go down, it’s warmer than I would expect it to be this late in the afternoon. Spring is coming. You can feel it in the air. The days are getting longer and warmer, and there are only a couple of months of school left.
And then I’ll be off to college. What will happen with me and Beckett? Whatever. I can’t really worry about that. That’s months away, and besides—I have to trust myself that I’ll figure it out. That we’ll figure it out.
I don’t even realize that I’m humming a little tune to myself until I’m standing in front of the school and one of the few kids who’s still waiting outside gives me a weird look.
“Sorry,” I say. “I’m just really happy.”
My phone beeps with a text, and I pull it out of my pocket.
Hey, it’s Aven—I’m locked in the bathroom by the gym, can you please come and—
The rest of her text is blocked out by the email that’s frozen on my screen.
I sigh. Why is Aven texting me if she’s locked in the bathroom? Doesn’t she have any other friends to call? And how did she lock herself in the bathroom anyway? And how does she know I’m still even here?
I’m tempted to just ignore it. But what if she’s in real trouble? What if she’s locked in the bathroom and she can’t get out? Well. She’d get out tomorrow morning. We have school, and someone would find her.
But do I really feel okay just leaving her there overnight? How humiliating. And besides, what if there’s a fire or something?
I sigh and haul my whole suitcase into the school with me. When I get to the bathroom by the girls’ gym, Quinn is there.
“Hey,” she says.
“Hi.” I frown. “Are you . . . did Aven send you a text, too?”
“Yeah, about being locked in the bathroom?”
We both look at each other in confusion. I shrug.
“Whatever,” Quinn says, then pushes open the door.
I follow her inside, but the bathroom is empty.
“Aven?” I try. I have a vision of her drowned in one of the toilets, u
nable to come up for air. I’m not sure exactly how that would happen. But still.
I start pushing open stall doors, and Quinn follows suit.
But before we can get to every stall, the door to the bathroom opens and Aven comes sauntering in.
“Aven!” Quinn says. “Why the hell did you tell us you were locked in the bathroom?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I was worried about you.”
But Aven doesn’t answer us. She just turns around, and then calmly locks the door behind her.
“What the hell are you doing?” Quinn demands. She walks to the door, but Aven just smiles and puts the key back in her pocket. How the hell does Aven have a key to the bathroom anyway?
“I’m sick of this,” Aven says. “I’m sick of not being friends. I’m ready to make up.” She takes in a deep breath and looks at us, determined. “And none of us are leaving this bathroom until we do.”
EXCERPT FROM ONE MOMENT IN TIME
THE NEXT STORY IS QUINN’S—
READ ON FOR A SNEAK PEEK!
HE TURNS TO ME. “DO YOU WANT TO GET OUT of here?”
“What?”
“Do you want to leave?”
“With you?”
“Yes, with me.”
“I can’t leave with you,” I say. “I just met you, like, five seconds ago.” I mean, how stupid could I be? Leaving a club with some guy I know nothing about? That’s insane. It’s how people end up disappearing and/or chopped up into a million pieces, just like my brother said.
“Five hours.”
“What?”
“We met five hours ago. On the beach.”
“I can’t just leave with you,” I say again. “I don’t know anything about you.”
“You know my name. And where I work.”
“But that’s all.”
“True,” he says seriously. He cocks his head and pretends to think about it. “Actually, I think you’re right. It wouldn’t really make sense for us to hang out. Since I’m a stranger and everything.”
“It wouldn’t make sense,” I say. “It wouldn’t be smart.” I resist the urge to list all the reasons it’s a bad idea, because I don’t want to insult him by implying he could be a psycho murderer. Besides, it’s really not something that needs to be explained. Is he used to girls just going home with him? He doesn’t seem surprised I don’t want to leave with him. But he doesn’t seem particularly upset about it, either. Does he figure that if I turn him down he’ll just find someone else to take home? I’m vaguely repulsed, but also slightly excited, like I’m going to miss my chance. Which is awful and against any kind of feminism, like, ever.
And then I remember that stupid email.
Before graduation, I promise to . . . do something crazy.
Yes, something crazy. But not something dangerous. Something dangerous like going home with a guy I just met. Something dangerous like going home with a guy I just met while on vacation in a strange place. He’s cute, yes. And he seems harmless enough, albeit cocky. But still . . .
Don’t overanalyze it. How are you feeling—what do you want to do?
I take in a deep breath.
And then, before I can change my mind, I turn and look at him.
“Okay,” I say. “Let’s get out of here.”
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
LAUREN BARNHOLDT is the author of the teen novels The Thing About the Truth, Sometimes It Happens, One Night That Changes Everything, Two-way Street, Right of Way, and Watch Me. She is also the author of the middle grade novels The Secret Identity of Devon Delaney, Devon Delaney Should Totally Know Better, Four Truths and a Lie, Rules for Secret Keeping, Fake Me a Match, and the Girl Meets Ghost series. She lives in Waltham, Massachusetts. Visit her online at www.laurenbarnholdt.com.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
BOOKS BY LAUREN BARNHOLDT
Heat of the Moment
One Moment in Time
From This Moment
The Thing About the Truth
Sometimes It Happens
One Night That Changes Everything
Two-way Street
Right of Way
Watch Me
The Secret Identity of Devon Delaney
Devon Delaney Should Totally Know Better
Four Truths and a Lie
Rules for Secret Keeping
Fake Me a Match
Girl Meets Ghost
The Harder the Fall
Ghost of a Chance
CREDITS
Cover art © 2015 by Oriana Layendecker/ImageBrief.com
Cover design by Annemieke Beemster Leverenz
COPYRIGHT
HarperTeen is an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers.
HEAT OF THE MOMENT. Copyright © 2015 by Lauren Barnholdt. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
www.epicreads.com
* * *
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Barnholdt, Lauren, author.
Heat of the moment / Lauren Barnholdt. — First edition.
pages cm. — (A moment of truth ; Book 1)
Summary: “Before graduation, I promise to learn to trust” is what the email Lyla McAfee wrote to herself as a freshman, to be delivered right before graduation, says—but on the senior trip to Florida she discovers that what she now considers a silly sentiment may be a lot harder, and a lot more important, than she thinks.
ISBN 978-0-06-232139-8 (pbk.)
EPub Edition © April 2015 ISBN 9780062321404
1. High school students—Juvenile fiction. 2. Electronic mail messages—Juvenile fiction. 3. Trust—Juvenile fiction. 4. Dating (Social customs)—Juvenile fiction. 5. Best friends—Juvenile fiction. [1. Trust—Fiction. 2. Dating (Social customs)—Fiction. 3. Best friends—Fiction. 4. Friendship—Fiction. 5. Email—Fiction.] I. Title.
PZ7.B2667He 2015 2014030712
813.6—dc23 CIP
[Fic] AC
* * *
15 16 17 18 19 CG/RRDH 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
FIRST EDITION
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Heat of the Moment Page 21