by McKayla Box
“Because you were the one person I trusted,” I say. “You were the one person who I thought wouldn't turn on me. The one who'd always believe in me.” I pause. “And you bailed on me almost immediately. When I saw that thing, I knew everyone would walk away from me. Almost everyone. I was sure you wouldn't.” I pause again. “But you did. And I can't forget that.”
“Can you really blame me?” he asks, an edge in his voice now. “That thing looked fucking real, Presley. How was I supposed to know it was a fake?”
“You weren't,” I tell him. “But you were supposed to know I'm not fake. That I'm not the girl who would do that shit to you.” I look at him. “And you didn't know that.”
“I do know that,” he says. “Come on. Let's not make this worse.”
I laugh. “What exactly is worse for you? I'm the one that has the fucking scarlet letter on me now, even with the truth out there. I was the one alone on the island. What exactly was so bad for you? That people thought your whore girlfriend cheated on you with your enemy? Boo fucking hoo.”
He looks away.
I know that my words are hurting him. I want them to.
Because he hurt me.
And because things are different now.
He looks at me again. “What do I have to do?”
I shake my head. “There's nothing you can do.”
He blinks several times and laughs like he can't believe it. “So we're just...over?”
Tears sting my eyes. “I don't know what we are right now. But we aren't together.”
“Presley, come on.”
I shake my head. “No. You don't get it. You're never going to get it. You turned on me and you were the one person I knew wouldn't do that. And I was wrong.” I look at him and he's blurred through my tears. “I was wrong about you.”
He steps closer to me. I can smell the soap on his skin, the shampoo from his hair. All I want to do is hug him.
But I won't let myself.
“This is fucked up,” he says. “Super fucked up. You love me. I love you. I screwed up. Don't end this because I made one mistake.”
I look up at him. “You thought I made one mistake and you ended it. How is this any different?”
He doesn't say anything.
Because there isn't an answer.
“So I should just, what? Leave you alone?” he asks.
I hesitate, then use every bit of strength I have to nod. “Yes.”
“Jesus fucking christ,” he mutters. “I can't believe you're doing this. Don't.”
“I'm not doing anything,” I tell him. “It's already done, Trevor. I can't be with someone who doesn't trust me and who thinks I'm capable of something like that. I don't want to wonder how you see me.” I look at him. “Because now I know.”
He looks away and shakes his head.
Tears roll down my cheeks.
Then he turns back to me.
“Look at me,” he says.
I wipe the tears from my eyes and look at him.
He's angry and hurt and a whole lot of other things.
“You have no idea how I see you,” he says. “And now you'll never know.”
He brushes past me.
The tears start again.
But I don't turn around.
I stay there on the sand, letting the wind hit me, and I cry.
I cry.
FIFTY SEVEN
I'm not sure how long I stand there, but I know it's a long time. I know that I walk in the opposite direction for awhile, trying to calm myself down, to get a handle on everything. I take a couple of deep breaths before I decide I'm ready to head back and find Bridget and the other girls.
I turn around.
And Kane Tressle is walking toward me.
Fuck.
I slow my pace, thinking maybe it's a coincidence, that he isn't coming because it's where I'm at.
But I know better.
“Figured you needed some company,” he says as I get closer, smiling at me. “All down here by your lonesome.”
“You figured wrong.”
“A girl like you should never be alone,” he says, looking me up and down like I'm a piece of meat. “I'll keep you company.”
“No thanks,” I say, stepping near the water to try and get around him.
He slides over and cut me off. “I feel like you and I got off on the wrong foot.”
“There's no right foot,” I tell him. “Get out of my way.”
“Nah, you and I need to spend some time together,” he says, smiling. “Because you know what I'd really like?”
“I don't care what you'd really like.”
He leans closer to me. “I'd like to do what we did in that video. For real.”
I can't think of anything I want less in the world and my stomach turns.
I try to go in the other direction, but he cuts me off again, bumping into me.
I step back.
“You and Robinson aren't together anymore,” he says, stepping toward me. “Let me show you what you've been missing.” He winks. “You'll realize you wasted all that time on him when you coulda had me.”
I'm too far down the beach to scream and get anyone's attention. I know he's a better swimmer than I am if I go to the water. I feel like my only option is to try and run, but I'm certain he's faster than I am.
I take a breath, trying to calm myself.
“Maybe go find Athena,” I say, trying to buy time to think. “She seems into you.”
He laughs. “Ha. I suppose I could, but that was a one time thing.”
I look at him. “So you knew?”
He raises an eyebrow. “Knew? Honey, that was the plan all along. Hook up with your whiny little friend, then make it look like you cheated on both her and Robinson.” He laughs. “And it worked.”
Until now, I'm not sure if he'd been a willing participant or just a guy making a sex video with Athena. But now I know.
It was all a set up from the start.
“Why?” I ask.
“Because fuck Trevor is why,” he says, frowning. “Fuck that guy. I knew messing with you would be the fastest way to fuck with him. And that meant fucking with your friend first.” The frown changes to a smile. “Or I guess I should say just fucking your friend.”
“You're so fucking gross,” I say.
“You'll change your mind,” he says, stepping closer to me. “When we're done.”
I make a fist and swing as hard as I can for his balls.
But he's ready for it.
He catches my arm in mid-swing, stops it, and puts his other hand on my hip. He sweeps my legs out from under me with his foot and I go down to the sand. He goes comes down on top of me. I'm trying to get out from under him, but he's too strong. He has my arms pinned above my head in the sand and he's looking down at me.
“Just relax,” he says. “This is going to be fun.”
Panic wells up inside of me and I scream. Or, at least, I try to before he slaps a hand over my mouth. He's got both of my wrists in one hand above my head and his hand now clamped over my mouth. I'm screaming against his palm, but it's like I'm silent. I try biting at him, but he's got his hand in a way that I can't grab on to it. He's too big, too strong.
He grinds his hips against mine. “You like it when it last awhile? Or you just want it quick?” He smiles at me. “How about if I--”
He's lifted up off of me before he says another word.
I'm screaming and it fills the darkness.
Kane goes flying over me, his body landing in the sand.
And I see Trevor, rage in his eyes, going after him.
I sit up, gasping for air.
They wrestle in the sand for a few seconds, rolling back and forth. Trevor brings his arm back and his fist smashes into Kane's face. His head snaps back into the sand. Trevor gets all the way on top of him and punches him again. Kane's arms fall to his sides. Trevor stands, grabs one of his arms, and drags him to the water.
Then he rolls him over.<
br />
Face down.
“No,” I croak, my voice hoarse and raw.
If Trevor hears me, he doesn't react. He puts his hand on the back of Kane's head and pushes it down into the water.
“No,” I say again, getting up. “Don't.”
Trevor pushes him further into the water and keeps Kane's face in it.
Footsteps thunder on the sand behind me.
I turn.
Brett and Jake both race past me, so fast that I wince. I spin around to see Brett wrap Trevor in a bear hug and tackle him into the water. Jake pulls at Kane's feet and drags him up into the sand.
Trevor and Brett are thrashing around in the water until Brett gets him around the waist and lifts him up. He spins them around and they tumble to the sand.
Jake lifts Kane's head up. Blood cloaks his face. He coughs and spits water everywhere.
Jake drops his head to the ground and goes to help Brett with Trevor.
Trevor is stalking the sand like a lion, but they stay between him and Kane.
Because he'll kill him if he gets to him again.
Finally, Trevor slows, his hands on his hips.
I wipe the sand from my mouth.
Trevor looks past Brett and Jake, past Kane, to me.
“I'm okay,” I say.
He doesn't react.
I want to go to him. To thank him. To hug him. To kiss him. To tell him I love him.
Because all of those things are true.
But saving me from Kane doesn't change everything.
I'm grateful.
But he still hurt me.
I can't forget that.
I look at him and I want to tell him all those things, hoping the words might fix what's broken.
But I know they won't.
So, instead, I turn and walk away.
FIFTY EIGHT
“You have everything?” my dad asks.
“Yeah,” I tell him. “I'm good.”
It's the first day of Christmas break and he's dropping me at the airport. We're at the curb, pulling my bag from the trunk. I've decided to spend the first few days before Christmas at my mom's in Seattle. She's thrilled. My dad is trying to act like he's okay with it.
I'm just looking for some breathing room.
“You sure you don't me to go in?” he says. “At least make sure you get through security?”
“I'll be fine,” I say, pulling the handle up on my roller bag. “You don't have to wait.”
He frowns, but nods. “Alright. Make sure and let me know when you get through. And when you get to your gate. And when you're on the plane.”
I laugh. “I'll be fine, Dad. I've been in an airport before.”
“I know, I know,” he says. “This is just weird. I'm not used to sending you off like this.”
“Just a couple days,” I tell him. “And, yeah. It is weird.”
He points at my bag. “I put a couple of things in there for you. For when you're on the plane?”
“In my bag?”
He smiles. “Just some stuff to keep you busy. And snack on.”
I laugh. “Okay. Thanks.”
He puts his arms around me. “I won't drag this out anymore. Be safe and have a good flight. I love you, Pres.”
I squeeze him. “Love you, too.”
He lets go of me, smiles again, and walks to the driver's side. “Get inside and get in line.”
“On it,” I tell him, pulling my bag onto the curb. I wave at him.
He waves back as he pulls away.
I haven't told him about the video or what Athena did or what Kane tried to do. I need some time. But I'm going to tell him. After Christmas. I don't want to keep things from him.
But I also don't want to dump all of that on him right before I leave.
The airport is busy and it takes forever to get through security. By the time I'm done, I have just enough time to grab a coffee and sit at the gate for a minute. I unzip the pocket he said he put things in and look inside. I pull out a couple of magazines and a bag of M&M's. I laugh, shake my head, and shove those into my purse, zip my roller back up.
They call my group to board and we snake our way through the jet bridge. I find my seat, throw my roller into the overhead, and slide into my window seat. I put my purse under the seat and text my dad to let him know I'm safely on the plane and that I'll text when we land.
I lean back in the seat.
I'm exhausted. From everything. I'm hopeful that I can get along with my mom for a few days. And her husband. It won't be easy, but I'm willing to try.
The flight attendant announces that the plane is boarded and the doors are closed. We pull back slowly from the gate. I watch the men outside the window guide us out of the parking spot, waving their orange wands.
We taxi slowly to the runway and I grab my purse from beneath the seat. I tear open the bag of M&M's and pour a handful into my palm. I grab one of the magazines my dad gave me and lay it across my lap.
And I see the edge of an envelope poking out of it.
I pull the envelope out and flip it over.
There's a Post-It note on it.
“Trevor dropped this off last night,” my dad's handwriting says. “He asked if I'd give it to you when I took you to the airport. Just following orders. Love you.”
I pull the Post-It note off and my name is written on the envelope. It's not my father's handwriting.
It's Trevor's.
The plane jerks forward and we pick up speed.
I slide my finger under the flap of the envelope until it's open. A piece of paper is folded into thirds inside. I pull it out.
My stomach jumps as we lift off the ground.
I unfold the paper.
And my stomach jumps again.
It's the drawing he did of me that I'd found in his room before we were even together. A detailed sketch of my face that startled me the first time I saw it, as much because I didn't know he was an artist as because it was my own face on the page.
But there's more now.
He's drawn himself in behind me, his head looking over my shoulder, his cheek against mine, his eyes closed.
It is breathtakingly gorgeous.
I run my finger along the lines of his face.
And then I notice the words at the bottom of the page, written in small, block lettering.
“This is how I see you. This is how I see us. I won't give up. T.”
The plane banks to the right and we're out over the Pacific.
My heart races.
It's how I see us, too.
I'm not sure how we get there, though.
I want to, but I'm not sure if we can.
But maybe we can.
I look out the window at the ocean beneath us, then back to his drawing of us.
Maybe we can.
THE END
Hey Awesome Reader!
Thanks so much for reading WINTER, the second book in the Sunset Beach High series. I hope you loved it! If you did, it would be AMAZING if you'd take maybe two minutes and leave a review at Amazon, telling everyone how much you enjoyed it. Reviews really make a difference! (And then go tell 19 friends about the books!)
The response to FALL was awesome and I'm hoping WINTER hits readers the same way. And don't worry – the next book featuring Presley, Trevor, and the rest of the Sunset Beach High crew is on the way. In fact, SPRING is now available for pre-order by clicking right here and it'll be out August 27th! You'll love it – I promise!
Keep on reading!
MB
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