“Are you okay?” He was still laughing, but crawling down toward me, concern settling into his expression when he saw I wasn’t moving.
“I don’t even know how to answer that right now.” I sat up on my knees and shook my head, feeling like a liter of salt water and sand was running from my ears.
Quentin rushed beside me and hoisted me up, sliding the hair away from my cheek and brushing the sand off it. “I don’t see any physical injuries.”
I gave him a light shove when I caught him checking me out. But not necessarily for injuries.
Glancing down, I made sure everything was still covered that should have been. Good. Mostly, I thought, adjusting one side of my bralette.
“That’s twice now something has gotten in the way of me trying to kiss you,” he said, smoothing another chunk of my hair away.
“Think fate’s trying to tell you something?” I ran my thumb across his cheek where a smear of sand had coated him.
“Yeah, I think it is.”
My head tilted, waiting.
His forehead dropped to mine. “Try harder.”
I stifled my smile as he took my hand and led me back up the beach.
“Or it could be trying to tell us—”
“Nope, definitely not that,” he interrupted, heading toward the pile of clothes.
“Why not that?”
“Because we’re great together, Jade Abbott.” He motioned between us. “Just look at us.”
I studied him. Coated in sand, boxers pasted to his body and twisted around his legs. I wasn’t any better. Pasted in said sand, hair a tangled knot around my neck, covered in goose bumps.
“We are pretty damn great together,” I said, about to start laughing with him, but I stopped when we got to the piles of clothes. Something was missing.
My clothes.
“Um. Where did my skirt and top go?” I checked the immediate area, hoping maybe a gust of ocean air had tumbled them off a ways.
“I don’t know. They were right here.” Quentin let go of my hand and started wandering the beach, looking for them. “Mine are still here. That’s weird.” His hands settled on his hips as he stopped.
As I frantically searched farther up the beach, something caught my eye: Ashlyn’s distant figure in the bonfire shadows, and a moment when I swore I could almost see the last scrap of my skirt being consumed by the flames.
“I think I know where my clothes went.” My arms wound around my stomach, not sure what I felt more—anger or panic.
“Where?” Quentin came up beside me, waiting for me to point them out.
Instead, I indicated the party. “Someone added a little fuel to the fire.”
It only took Quentin a moment to get it. He must have seen her, too, standing there looking victorious like she’d conquered the Roman Empire.
He grabbed his clothes and held them toward me. “Here. I know they’ll be huge on you, but at least they’re dry and provide coverage.”
“What are you going to wear?” I shook my head, refusing to take them.
He motioned down at his wet boxers. When I sighed, he held his arms out. “What? It’s my ‘swimsuit.’ ”
“If you’re using that kind of logic, then this is mine.”
Quentin’s throat moved when we took another look at my “swimsuit.” “Yeah, but yours covers a lot less than mine. And I don’t want anyone else seeing you in it.”
I bit my lip. “I can’t believe some chick burned my clothes because I showed up to a bonfire with you.”
Quentin started scrunching up his tee like he was going to put it on me if I didn’t do it. “You did want the full teenage experience, right?”
I let him tug it over my head, winding my arms through the armholes. “I’m wondering if it’s not too late to order the three-quarter portion.”
He winked at me, sweeping the shirt down my body. I pulled his shorts up to my waist. Even after he cinched the belt as tight as it would go, they were still kind of falling off me, but it worked.
I held out the sides of the tee. “I think I could fit three of me in here.”
He was trying not to laugh as he took a good look at me. “Not so fast. I can barely keep up with one of you.” He wound his arm behind my shoulders as we started up the beach. “Let’s get you home before a strong gust of wind comes and blows you all the way to Australia.”
“Why are we heading to the bonfire instead of the parking lot?” I asked, coming close to sighing from the warmth of his dry clothes. I hadn’t realized how cold I’d gotten.
“I have to do something real quick.”
Ashlyn could see us now, but hers wasn’t the only attention we had by the time we finished trudging through the sand. Some of the guys were giving Quentin an approving look, and most of the girls were busy checking him out, which was kind of fantastic because no one was looking at me.
“Nice outfit.” I guess someone was looking at me.
I shrugged at Ashlyn, reminding myself to stay calm.
“Thanks” was all I said.
She blinked at me like I was clueless, and maybe I was where cattiness was concerned.
Quentin squared himself in front of Ashlyn. “Next time you want to burn someone’s clothes, burn mine. Leave Jade out of it.”
Ashlyn angled herself at Quentin. Her eyes narrowed when she saw the way he was holding my hand—like there was nothing anyone could do to tear it away. “What? Are you going to threaten me if I don’t?”
“Absolutely not.”
She stared him down as her arms crossed. “Just trying to warn her to be careful of who she hangs out with. Nothing but trouble follows those who get involved with you.” There was a moment’s pause, then her eyes flashed. “Just ask Blaire.”
Quentin was quiet for two heartbeats. Then he looked her in the eye. “I don’t need to ask Blaire anything. I know exactly what she thinks about what went down. She’s made that really damn obvious.”
Ashlyn’s face went kind of blank, like she was trying to process this. I didn’t see what happened after because Quentin was already leading me away from the party, ignoring the catcalls and whistles some of his friends were firing his way.
“Jade!” a voice called behind us.
It was Zoey, jogging to us, holding up something of mine I’d forgotten all about. “Oh my gosh,” I said. “Thank you.” I took my phone from her with a sigh of relief. The battery was dead, but at least my phone was still in one piece.
“Yeah, I managed to snag that away from her before it went in with your clothes.” Zoey paused, her nose crinkling. “I’m sorry about that. I would have saved the rest, too, if I’d realized what she was doing five seconds sooner.” She sighed, like she was to blame. “Some friend, right?”
I shook the phone at her, not missing that in rescuing it for me she’d probably made an enemy of Ashlyn. Pulling her into a quick hug, I said, “Some friend.”
After that, Quentin and I headed for his truck.
We didn’t say anything as we drove away from the lot. He stared out the windshield, cranked on the heater until the truck felt like a sauna, and tossed me his charger. I plugged in my phone and waited for it to power up.
“Who’s Blaire?” I asked when we were a few minutes from home.
Quentin glanced over at me; his face read Really? When I stayed silent, he knew I wasn’t letting it go this time.
“She was my girlfriend at my old school.” He sounded like a robot, scripted and stilted.
“A serious one, or not really?” I continued.
He cracked his neck. “Pretty serious.”
I bit my lip, knowing he did not want to talk about this, but I had to know. “But not serious anymore, right?”
He grunted. “God, no.”
I turned in my seat so I was faci
ng him. “What happened?”
I’d never seen so many emotions play out on a person’s face all at once.
It was at least a full minute later before he replied, “Life happened.”
My hands curled into fists. “That’s not an answer, Quentin.”
“She saw things one way. I saw them another,” Quentin said curtly. “So we went our separate ways.”
Before I could press any further, we’d turned onto our street. We hadn’t rolled up to the curb yet, but I knew something was wrong. Lights were on inside my aunt and uncle’s house, and I could make out their shadows pacing behind the curtain in the big picture window. I also didn’t miss another window that was all lit up—mine. As if on cue, my phone blared to life then, and a whole mess of missed calls and texts came in. All of them from my aunt—all of them frantic. I was in so much trouble.
“I’ll walk you in and explain.” Quentin was already starting to open his door, but I grabbed his arm.
“No!” I shouted, scanning his still-wet boxers, which had somehow crept even higher up his legs on the drive home. “It will be better if it’s just me.” My head started to spin at the mere thought of explaining this to them. “And this is so, so bad.”
I knew right away what conclusion my aunt would jump to.
“Listen, let me talk to them. I’m sure they’ll be okay once they know what happened.”
My eyebrows hit my hairline. “This is my aunt we’re talking about. The woman whose main fear is I could get pregnant and forever ruin my life if a boy looks at me wrong.”
Quentin sighed, rubbing at his forehead. “We went to a bonfire at the beach. We didn’t drink. Hell, we didn’t even kiss, damn my best efforts, and we’re home before eleven o’clock.” He thrust his hand at the time showing on his truck’s radio dial. “How is that being irresponsible and reckless and attempting to ruin your life?”
“You’re in your underwear, Quentin! And I’m pretty sure they’ll notice these aren’t my clothes!”
I winced when I watched my aunt throw her arms in the air. “I’m going to spend the next month and a half getting reamed for the sneaking out before I even get a chance to explain what we did tonight.”
“Yeah, maybe you should have just told them you were leaving instead of going behind their backs in the first place.” Quentin leaned around me so he had a view of the scene inside.
“Sure, then they would have locked me inside of that room for the summer and thrown away the key.” My hand lowered to the door handle, knowing I was only delaying the inevitable. “I’ll text you later. If I still have my phone privileges, which I probably won’t.” When I threw the door open and climbed out, his face fell.
He put his truck into gear hesitantly, like he wasn’t sure he should let me do this on my own.
He was still there when I climbed the front stairs and went to grab the key my aunt kept hidden under one of her flowerpots. I didn’t need it, though.
The door flung open, and I was met by both my aunt and uncle, gaping at me like I’d showed up on a motorcycle with a cigarette hanging from my lips.
“Where in God’s name have you been?” Uncle Paul was the first to speak, thrusting his arm at me to get inside or else. I wasn’t sure what or else was. I was in uncharted territory.
“I was at the beach,” I said, feeling about one millimeter tall from the way my aunt was looking at me. Her eyes were all red and puffy, like she’d spent the past few hours sobbing. “It was a bonfire, and a bunch of people were there.”
“A bonfire? A bunch of people?” Uncle Paul’s face was insanely red. His eyes looked ready to pop out of his head, and veins were bulging in his neck. “And why are you dressed like you’re in some kind of gang?” Uncle Paul motioned at my outfit, shirt down to almost my knees, shorts about ready to fall off me, like I was guilty of some kind of crime.
“I went for a swim,” I started, pausing to decide how to best explain what came after that. “Then my clothes kind of disappeared and someone was nice enough to lend me theirs.”
I thought I’d done a decent job explaining the whole thing. However, every word from my mouth made my aunt’s and uncle’s mouths fall open ever farther.
“Let me see if I have this right, because I don’t do my best logical thinking when the niece I’m responsible for has disappeared without letting me or her aunt know.” Uncle Paul was pacing now, yanking at his tie like it was choking him. “You took off your clothes to go swimming?”
Since everything I was saying was only pissing him off, I went with body gestures instead.
When I nodded, he continued. “So I assume you must have planned accordingly and brought a swimsuit with you.”
My teeth sank into my lower lip as I lifted my shoulders.
Uncle Paul’s face went full-on scarlet.
“Am I to take it that you went swimming, in your underwear, with a ‘bunch of people’?”
“No! No way!” I answered as soon as I realized what he was getting at. “I only went swimming with one person. Everyone else was still at the bonfire. Way far away.”
Instead of my explanation putting his worries at ease, it went the other direction. “Was this one person a girl? Or a boy?”
My aunt was covering her mouth with her hands, and my uncle was tugging at his tie again.
“No, it wasn’t like that! It was—”
“It was with me, Mr. Davenport.” And there was Quentin, still wet from our swim, still in nothing but his boxers. “Jade went swimming with me.”
My eyes closed, knowing that as much as Quentin thought this would help, it was only going to make it about a million times worse.
“You’re the new boy a few houses down, right?”
Quentin nodded, stepping farther inside. “That’s right.”
“You think you can take advantage of some innocent girl, have your fun, then break her heart when you’ve gotten what you want? Or worse, leave her pregnant and alone, with no way to take care of herself or the baby?”
“Uncle Paul,” I hissed, a serious defensive edge hitting me.
Quentin stood up straighter, not blinking as he stared at my uncle. “That’s not the kind of person I am at all.”
Uncle Paul snorted, like that was a joke.
“I’ve seen you all of twenty minutes all summer, Uncle Paul.” I stepped forward so I was in front of him. “You don’t get to yell at Quentin and accuse him of terrible things when you don’t know him, and you don’t get to yell and accuse me of things when you haven’t taken the time to get to know me, either. So don’t you dare lecture me on responsibility.” Now came the tears. They stung my eyes as they rolled to my cheeks. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong or illegal, or anything that would put me in the same situation as my mom.”
Uncle Paul spit out each word. “You snuck out of the house, Jade. You left a note saying you went to bed, made it look like you were in bed when your aunt went up to check on you, and ignored our calls when we tried to work out where you’d disappeared to.” Uncle Paul held up the note I’d left on the table, like it was my guilty verdict. “How is that not doing anything wrong?”
“I—no, you’re right. I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry, but I didn’t do what you think I was doing tonight.” My eyes slid toward Quentin, who had to bite the inside of his cheek to stay quiet. “I shouldn’t have snuck out, but I knew you wouldn’t have let me go if I told you I was going with Quentin.” When I turned toward my aunt, I found her sitting on the edge of the couch, staring at the carpet like she was lost and didn’t have a map. “I’m sorry.”
She nodded, then her eyes lifted to mine. “You were supposed to watch the girls tonight.” She paused, letting that settle between us. It only took a moment for my stomach to twist into knots with that feeling of suddenly remembering something that was really super-important. “Your
uncle and I were going to go to dinner and a show. I asked you last week if you’d mind watching the twins and you said you would.”
Suddenly, I realized my aunt was dressed up. She had on a pair of heels. There was even a bouquet of roses Uncle Paul must have brought her. I didn’t have to check her calendar to know how long it had been since Uncle Paul had taken her on a date. And I was the one responsible for ruining this one for them. Ruining it for her.
“I forgot.” It came out like a whisper. I’d always been so responsible, so organized, and had never, ever forgotten something this important before. “I’m so sorry, Aunt Julie. I can’t believe—”
“Wait.” Quentin moved into view, his brows drawn together. “So you were supposed to be watching your cousins tonight?” He waited, like he needed me to confirm it one more time.
My head moved slightly as my vision went blurry from the tears. “I forgot. I totally forgot all about it.”
“You can’t just forget about that kind of stuff, Jade. They’re little kids—they’re your family. If you say you’re going to be there for them, you better mean it.” Now it seemed like he was the one scolding me, looking at me like I’d let him down in every way, too. “You can’t bail on your responsibilities like that.”
I pressed my palms into my eyes and shook my head. What was going on? Why was he so mad at me, too?
“I know, Quentin. I know. I wasn’t trying to forget. It wasn’t like I meant to do this.”
He shook his head, backing up toward the front door. “That doesn’t give you a pass, Jade. Someone was counting on you to be there. And you weren’t. The why doesn’t matter.”
He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t wave good-bye or flash his middle finger or even look at me, which was somehow worse. He just walked away, leaving me behind to figure out what the hell was going on. Not just in his life this time, but in mine.
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