by McKayla Box
“I don't need their pity interest,” Jake says.
“Please,” Brett says, speaking up for the first time. “Pity interest would be better than the nightly dates you're having with your right hand.”
Jake frowns and gives him the finger.
Trevor laughs and shakes his head, then looks at me. “We're cutting out after first period. Waves are gonna be firing. You wanna come?”
“Uh, no,” I tell him. “I have this thing called class? Maybe you've heard of it?”
“Such a good girl,” Jake says.
“Such a moron,” I fire back.
“Ignore him,” Trevor says. “I figured you'd say no, but thought I'd ask. It's cool.”
I start to say something, but I notice Brett. He's standing there, his arms folded, staring at the ground like he's trying to memorize it.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
He doesn't answer and Jake pokes him in the arm. He looks up, startled. “What?”
“Presley asked if you were okay,” Jake tells him.
Brett glances at Trevor, then at me. “Oh. Yeah. I'm good. Sorry. Just tired.”
It seems like more than that, but I don't ask him anymore as the bell rings.
Trevor pulls me into him and kisses me. “If you come with us, we could make a quick stop at my house.”
“I'm sure we could,” I tell him, patting his chest. “But no. You boys have fun.” I kiss him. “But not too much fun.”
“Get a fucking room,” Jake says.
“We'll get two,” Trevor says. “One for us and one for you and your hand.”
Jake's cheeks redden.
“Play nice, boys,” I tell them.
“We don't know how,” Trevor says.
I kiss him one last time, then start backing away because I know if I don't, I'll stand there forever kissing him and being late to class.
I smile at him. “I'm aware.”
FIVE
Shanna Becker is already sitting in her seat when I get to art class after lunch. Her long dark hair is draped perfectly over her shoulder.
Shanna Becker is a full-on bitch, by the way.
She eyes me as I sit down. “Did you hear?”
I ignore her and check my phone.
“Derek's kicked off the football team,” she says. “And it's your fucking fault.”
I laugh. “It's my fault you tried to drug me and he was part of the plan? Really? My fault?”
She rolls her eyes. “You act like we tried to, like, murder you or something. Such a fucking drama queen. It was a joke. And it's ancient history now. Get over it.”
“A joke,” I say. “To spike my drink with some roofie, then let someone attack me while I couldn't defend myself? That's your idea of a joke? You're dumber than I even thought.”
She shifts in her seat. “Please. We could've done way worse. We probably should have.”
I remember how the dizziness came over me in Derek's pool house and how I was so confused about what was going on. I remember having to sit on the bed so I didn't fall over. I remember Shanna showing up. I remember Holly's hand smashing into my face and not being able to fend her off because my arms were so heavy that I couldn't lift them. It's been a couple months since it happened, but I remember every single detail.
I look at Shanna. “You know, my dad's still thinking about it.”
Her eyes flit in my direction. “Thinking about what?”
“Going to the police,” I tell her. “He wants me to. Do you think the police will think it's a joke?”
Her eyes flit away and a bit of color rises in her cheeks. “You told your dad?”
“Yeah. You know he's a lawyer, right?”
She doesn't say anything.
“I mean, even if we don't go to the cops, he still wants to sue you,” I say, leaning a little closer to her. “And that would mean suing your family, too. Can you imagine how big that story would be? I can.”
Her face reddens some more. “You're not gonna do that. And I wasn't even the one that hit you. I didn't even touch you.”
“No, but it was all your plan,” I remind her. “You were the one who got Derek to invite me to the dance so you could do it that night. You were the one who moved the plan up when you realized you could use Holly against me and that Derek's pool house was a perfect place to do it. And I know you're the one who fucked with my drink.” I smile at her. “And I know that when push comes to shove, Derek and Holly would tell their lawyers the same thing. Because they'll have to get lawyers, too. It'll be such a big mess. Huge, really.
She swallows hard, but doesn't say anything.
“And what will your parents think?” I ask. “I mean, I don't know them, but I can't think they'd be super happy with you, Shanna. Right?”
She glances at me. “Shut the fuck up.”
I smile at her and lean back in my seat. “Derek's lucky that the only thing that's happened to him so far is getting kicked off the team. Because there might be more coming in his future.” I snap my fingers. “And I didn't even think about college.”
She can't help herself. “What about college?”
I laugh and raise an eyebrow. “Really? You haven't even thought about that?”
“Thought about what?”
I lean toward her again. “That you'll never get in if I tell everyone what you did. You think UCLA is going to want some girl who drugged a classmate? You think USC is going to admit some girl who set up an assault? For real?”
She immediately starts chewing on her bottom lip and I know I've finally hit the right nerve. She can't hide it. I have no doubt she doesn't care a bit about what she did to me, but I know she cares a whole lot about herself.
“That would really fuck things up for you, wouldn't it?” I whisper.
She chews harder on her lip, then glances at me again. “Fuck off.”
I laugh and lean back in my desk again.
I have no intention of doing any of those things. I didn't tell my dad what actually happened. I don't plan to go to the police. I'm not going to sue. Maybe I'm too chicken to do any of those things, but I also don't want to explain to my father everything that's happened to me. I know how stressed he's been about moving me to Sunset Beach and about his new job. I don't want to add to his stress level because I'm handling it all.
I look at Shanna.
But I'm happy to let her sweat it out.
Because I'll never forget what she did.
SIX
I'm putting my books in my locker when the girl comes up to me.
Art class ended and Shanna couldn't get out of her seat fast enough. She was the first one out the door, no doubt to share my threats with her friends.
And I'm fine with that.
Spread the fear.
Whatever.
I take my time gathering up my things and getting to my locker. The hallway is nearly empty when the girl I don't know comes up to me.
“Can you...tell me where the office is?” she asks.
I look at her. She's my height and beautiful. Big blue eyes, long blonde hair without a strand out of place, perfect skin. Her white tank top hugs all of her curves the right way and the red denim shorts she's wearing are super cute. Her fingernails and toenails are painted the same shade of red.
“Yeah,” I say, then point behind her. “Down that hallway and to your right.”
She nods slowly, smiling at me. “Okay. Thank you.”
“Are you new here?” I ask, straightening the books on the shelf in my locker.
“Uh...yeah,” she says, a little unsure. “I mean, not to Sunset Beach. I lived here and then I moved and now I'm back. It's a long story.”
“Oh,” I say, not sure what she means. “This is my first year here.”
“And you're a senior?”
I look at her. “How did you know?”
She smiles. “Well, your locker is in the senior hall.”
I laugh. “Right.”
“So, I kinda figured.”
“Nice to meet you,” she says. “Do you like it here? I mean, so far?”
I think for a moment, then nod. “Yeah. I do. A little rough getting started, but now it's pretty good.”
She stares at me for a moment, then nods. “Yeah. Sort of hard going to a new school for senior year, right?”
I nod. “For sure.”
She leans against the locker next to mine. “What are the guys like?”
It's a pretty forward question and I'm not really sure how to answer it. “Okay, I guess. Like any school. Some jerks, some who aren't jerks.” I smile. “Just have to weed through them.”
“Weed through them,” she says, smiling. “Yeah. Totally.” She looks around the hallway. “I don't like the jock types. I'm more of a surfer boy girl. You know?”
I sling my backpack over my shoulder. “Plenty of those here.”
“Yeah?”
“It's Sunset Beach,” I tell her. “I think everyone surfs.”
“Everyone? Even the girls?”
I shrug. “I don't know.”
“Do you?”
I hesitate, then nod. “I do. Or, I should say, I try.”
“Is it hard?” she asks.
I shrug again. “I don't know if it's hard. I'm just not sure I'm good at it.”
She nods. “Right. Well, maybe one of those surfer boys can...teach you a few things.” Then she laughs. “Right?”
I laugh. “Maybe. I don't know.”
“I'm sure they like seeing a girl out there on the water with them,” she says.
“I'm not sure about that,” I tell her. “But I manage.”
“And you get to be close to them.”
“Close to them?”
“To the surfer boys,” she says.
I'm not sure if she's just boy crazy or what she's getting at, but I smile because I don't want to be rude and I remember what it was like for me on my first day. “I guess. And, hey, I don't want to be rude, but I need to get going.”
“Oh, yeah,” she says. “Me, too.” She pauses and stares at me, then smiles again. “It was nice meeting you, Presley. I'll see you around, I'm sure.”
She turns and walks down the hallway toward the office.
The shorts really do look amazing on her and she walks like she knows it. It's not a bad thing, but I'm slightly envious of both the shorts and her confidence. I know that I didn't walk into Sunset on the first day with that kind of confidence. I have friends and a boyfriend now and I still don't have that kind of confidence.
She pauses at the end of the hall and turns around. She holds up a hand and waves at me.
I wave back.
And she turns the corner and is gone before I realize she never gave me her name.
SEVEN
“Hey, bitch. I wanna talk to you.”
I'm in the parking lot and I hear Derek Morgan's voice behind me.
I turn around slowly. “You must be mistaking me for Shanna.”
“I'm not mistaking you for anyone but you,” he says, frowning.
“Oh. You said bitch, so I thought you meant her.”
It takes him a moment to get what I'm saying. “Whatever. Did you hear?”
“Hear what?” I say because I want to hear him say it.
“That I'm off the team,” he says. “I'm done with football here. They won't let me play.”
“Well, that's a real fucking shame,” I tell him. “And, yeah. I heard. Forgive me for not giving a shit.” I smile. “Actually, I take that back. I did give a shit. I was pretty happy when I heard.”
He looks away and puts his hands on his hips. He's wearing a blue long sleeved T-shirt that hugs his broad chest and gray basketball shorts. The running shoes on his feet are untied. His dark hair is tousled and he's terrific looking unless you know what a prick he is.
He turns back to me. “That's fucking with my future, Presley.”
“You mean, sort of like fucking with mine?” I say. “Like, letting someone drug me and then letting someone else beat the shit out of me?”
“Come on,” he says. “That was one night. That's not your future. If I can't play ball, my scholarship offers come off the table. When I tell my dad, he's gonna freak.”
“Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?” I ask. “Because you're a fucking joke if that's what you think. And why do you think it's my fault anyway?”
“I got called in because they heard I had a party at my house a couple of months ago,” he explains. “They were told there was alcohol. Who else would've ratted me out?”
“Isn't the season almost over?” I ask. “Maybe your coach just decided you suck.”
“We still have playoffs,” he says. “And fuck you. I know it was you who ratted me out.”
“Ratted you out,” I say. “Like you're in the mafia or something. Well, I hate to break it to you, but I didn't say shit to anyone here at school. But like I told Shanna. I still might.”
His face screws up in anger. “You can't do that.”
“Really?”
“I'm already fucked,” he says. “You tell them about...everything else and I'm done. I won't even be able to walk on at a school.”
“Boo fucking hoo.”
“Come on, Presley.”
“Maybe you shoulda thought of all this before you decided to invite me to the dance,” I tell him. “Or invite me to your party. Or take me into your pool house. Or just be an asshole in general. What you did was fucking criminal and you're lucky you're not in jail.”
He looks down at the ground. “You don't wanna do this.”
I can't believe what I'm hearing. “Excuse me?”
He looks at me. “You don't wanna do this. And if you were going to go to the police, you already would have.”
“Are you daring me?” I ask him. “Are you seriously daring me?”
“I'm just saying that if you were going to the police, you already would have done it,” he answers. “And you don't want to make enemies like this.”
Anger boils my gut. The fact that he is trying to turn it all around on me and make it seem like I've done something wrong is infuriating. Yes, he's right about my not going to the police. But suggesting that I'm the one that has to worry about making enemies? That I should be afraid?
Fuck. That.
“You wanna threaten me?” I say. “Then threaten me. I'm not afraid of you or Shanna or Holly or any of the other assholes in your shitty little posse. I don't give a shit about making enemies or whatever you want to call them. But I'll never forget what you did to me and if you think I feel even an ounce of sympathy because you can't put on your shoulder pads and throw your stupid fucking football around, you're an idiot.”
“It's about more than that,” he says. “It's about my future.”
“Oh your future?” I say, raising my eyebrows. “Let me think about that.” I frown. “Fuck your future, Derek. It's your own fault. I'm sure you'll figure it out.” I turn to head to the parking lot to find Bridget. Then I stop and turn around again. “And make sure you let me know what schools you do get into.”
He folds his arms across his chest. “Why should I?”
“So I can make sure and send each of them a letter,” I tell him. “Telling them about a night in your pool house. Do I send it to the football coach or the admissions office? What do you think?” I smile at him. “You know what, I'll just send one to both. Just to make sure and cover all the bases.” I let my smile fade. “Don't ever lecture me about enemies again.”
EIGHT
Bridget drops me at home. I don't tell her about the crap with Shanna and Derek because I'm tired of it. I don't want to hash it out anymore. I just need a break.
And I just need to surf.
I get inside and quickly change my clothes, pulling on my bikini and my black and yellow wetsuit. I give my board a quick wax in the garage, then tuck it under my arm, hop on my bike, and head down to the beach.
The smell of
the ocean grows stronger the closer I get. The sun is still high in the sky and when I pull into the parking, I take a deep breath, and all of the tension that's built up inside of me runs out. The water is navy blue, streaked with long waves of white, and the lineup is crowded near the pier. Even in winter, the ocean is inviting.
I park my bike behind the lifeguard shack and tuck my sandals under the front wheel. The sand on the concrete boardwalk feels warm and familiar. The sound of the water rushing in and back out causes me to take another deep breath.
The ocean is my savior. It has been ever since we moved to Sunset Beach. It's the one place I know I can go and let everything out. Just looking at the water makes me feel better. I was nervous about moving all the way across the country when my dad told me we were moving, but now I can't imagine not being able to ride my bike to the ocean with my surfboard under my arm.
I step onto the sand and let my feet sink into it for a moment, then make my way down to the water. I strap the velcro leash around my ankle and scan the surfers in the water. I see Brett and Jake, but don't see Trevor.
Which is almost unheard of.
I wade into the water, the temperature shocking me for a moment as it always does. Then I push my board forward on the surface of the water and jump on top of it. I paddle into the wall of white water coming at me, then push down on the board and dive underneath it, squeezing my eyes shut until I pop back up on the other side. I shake the water free from my face and continue paddling out past the break.
Brett is straddling his board, his dark, wet hair slicked back off his forehead, and he holds up a hand. “Hey.”
“Hey,” I say, paddling up next to him. I slide up into a sitting position. “How is it?”
He shrugs. “It's okay. Was flat for awhile, but it's picking up now.”
Jake comes up on the other side of me. “Except he can't ride for shit today. Like he's a grommet all over again.”
“Fuck off,” Brett says, but there's not much behind it.
A few months earlier, I would've been panicked to be out in the water with them. In fact, there was one day that they threatened me and cut my leash, sending me into shore. But now that Trevor and I are together, Brett and Jake are like my brothers. They tease me, they give me a hard time, but they are also keeping an eye out for me. It's one of the reasons I don't fear Shanna or Derek or their threats.