by Naomi Martin
I shrug. “Nothing.”
He studies me for a moment. “If I had to guess, I’d say you got a text from a certain local boy?”
I can’t keep the smile from curling my lips. “Perhaps.”
“Well, just remember to make good decisions.”
“I always do,” I say, even though I haven’t always done so. “Anyway, why are you intruding on my personal domain?”
“Just reminding you that I go back to work tomorrow morning,” he says. “I’m heading to bed.”
“Okay, goodnight. And if I’m not up before you leave, good luck tomorrow.”
“Thanks, kiddo.”
He closes the door behind him and I flop back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling with that stupid grin on my face. Ryan’s face fills my mind, as does the image of that incredible body of his. I hear my dad’s door close and wait a couple of minutes before I slip out of bed. I pad over to my door on silent feet, turn off my light, and press my ear to the wooden door, listening for anything. But there’s no movement in the hallway outside my room.
My stomach churning and my face burning hot, I reach down and lock the door.
Chapter Five
“If you ask me, I’d say your folks sound pretty cool,” Katie says.
I roll my eyes. “If you say so.”
“The closest my parents have come to having the birds and the bees talk with me was making me watch a nature show on National Geographic.”
“Sometimes, I think I might have preferred that,” I admit. “Listening to your folks talk about the natural urge to explore your body while at the dinner table is disturbing as hell.”
She laughs and sits down on the chair at my desk as I obsessively comb through my closet, searching for something to wear to the bonfire. I hold up a blue peasant blouse with white polka dots and turn to Katie, who shakes her head.
“It’ll be cold down on the beach,” she says. “Just throw on jeans and a hoodie.”
I’m about to scoff and tell her I don’t want to look like a homeless woman when I see that Katie is wearing jeans and a hoodie and manage to bite back my words—but just barely.
“I just want to look… cute,” I say instead.
She grins. “You already have him hooked. You don’t need to go out of your way for him, you know.”
I pause and consider how much time and effort I’m putting into looking cute for a boy. Especially since I know, deep down, I shouldn’t even be getting involved with anybody right now. I should be concentrating on getting my head straight and my priorities in order. When everything went down last year, my grades took a hit and I need to get those back up if I want to get into a good school. I have one year to get my grades where I want them to be, and then I need to ace my SATs—it should be enough.
But it won’t be if I don’t keep my focus where it needs to be—on my studies and not on boys. I stand in front of my closet and look at my clothes. I wouldn’t say I’m a clothes horse; some of my friends back in Norfolk have wardrobes twice as big as mine. But it’s then I realize that Katie is right—I don’t need to go out of my way for anybody. Nor should I. If Ryan likes me in a sundress, he should like me in a hoodie, too.
That settled, I pull a black hoodie with white stars on it off a hanger and drop it onto the bed. It may not be the most stylish thing ever, but it’s practical and it’s warm. I know how cold it can get down on the beach, which makes me want to slap myself for even considering a dress or a skirt.
“Who’s this?”
I look over and see Katie holding the framed photo I keep of me, some of my friends, and Mr. Worley. The photo was taken right after one of my final school productions—I’d been cast as Puck in our version of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. It was something of a controversial casting, since Puck is usually a male role. But Mr. Worley believed in eschewing convention and keeping things fresh. I always appreciated that about him.
“That’s my old theater teacher, Mr. Worley,” I reply. “And I’m Puck, the clever fairy and protagonist of the show—mostly.”
Katie purses her lips and I can see that she has absolutely zero clue what I’m talking about. She obviously isn’t a theater kid.
“Shakespeare,” I tell her. “A Midsummer Night’s Dream is one of his most famous plays.”
She looks at me strangely for a moment but then it’s like a light bulb in her head turns on and she smiles.
“Right. I think I remember seeing a movie with that name once a long time ago.”
I sigh dramatically. “The movie? That is sacrilege.”
“Well, that’s snooty as hell.”
We laugh together for a moment but mine tapers off as I think about all of the school plays I was in—and, of course, about Mr. Worley.
“What’s wrong?” Katie asks.
I shake my head. “It’s nothing.”
“Didn’t look like nothing.”
I sit down on the edge of my bed and pick at imaginary lint on my hoodie, fighting back the waves of anger and grief that batter my insides.
“I fell in love with the stage. With performing. I dreamed of being an actor. Mr. Worley encouraged me to chase that dream and worked with me to make it happen,” I tell her. “He was one of the best teachers on the planet and really took time out of his own life to help his students.”
“D-did he pass away or something?” Her voice is soft and filled with compassion.
I shake my head. “No. I just miss him. He and I used to talk about life—about everything. He really got me in ways most people don’t,” I tell her. “It feels like having to leave that kind of ripped a hole in me.”
“I know we have a theater department at school,” Katie encourages me. “Why not get involved with it? Maybe it’ll help fill that hole in you.”
“I don’t think it’ll be the same,” I say. “What I had there was super special and I’m not sure that can be duplicated, you know?”
“Well, I know you won’t know until you try it out,” she replies.
Katie looks away and I can see the question floating through her eyes. But I can also tell she’s afraid to ask it. It’s the same question everybody has whenever I talk about Mr. Worley. I suppose it’s because I speak of him in such reverential tones, but it’s only because I genuinely respected and admired the man.
“Yes, I loved him. Just not in that way,” I assure her. “And no, I never slept with him. It was never like that between us.”
“What was it, between the two of you?”
I give her a small shrug. “He just understood me. I found myself able to talk to him about things I couldn’t even share with my parents. He was a good friend. Nothing more.”
There are so few teachers who take such an active and real interest in the lives of their students and go out of their way to make the world a better place. It’s a shame that their intentions and motivations are called into question, or that rumors about inappropriate behavior get started. Yeah, there are some predators out there, but viewing somebody like Mr. Worley through that lens—one of automatic suspicion—is disgusting to me.
Katie nods. “I believe you. I’ve had teachers like that before.”
I purse my lips and look down at my hands. “That’s one reason things with my folks were so bad there for a while,” I tell her. “I was angry they pulled me away from all of that to move out here. Really angry. Not just Mr. Worley, but all of my friends.”
“H-how are things with your parents now?”
My smile is genuine this time as I think about the conversation I had with my dad a couple of days ago. Since then, things have gotten better. Our relationship seems to be getting back to normal. Or at least closer to normal than it has been since they told me we were moving here. It’s like the wall of ice between us has finally melted and we’re comfortable around each other again. To say it’s been nice is an understatement. I’d been holding onto so much anger, I guess I didn’t realize just how much I’d missed my dad and our relationship until we reconciled.
&nb
sp; “Things are okay,” I tell her. “We’re in a much better place than we were a few months ago.”
She smiles. “That’s good. I’m happy to hear that.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
“Well, one good thing came out of that whole mess.”
I cock my head. “Yeah? What’s that?”
“You scored yourself the greatest best friend in the world.” She beams.
“That is true. Very true.”
“Now, get your ass dressed and let’s go to the bonfire.”
I snap her a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am.”
Chapter Six
The night is dark—darker than I ever remember it being in Norfolk—and the moon is high in the sky. There are more stars than I’ve ever seen; they look like chips of ice laid out on black silk. The silver moonlight sparkles off the ocean, and the foam of the crashing waves seems to glow. It’s absolutely gorgeous.
I sit on the sand in the shadows, beyond the edge of the flickering orange cast by the bonfire. While the music is loud, it’s not nearly as loud as the kids dancing around the fire pit. The tall flames reach high upward into the night sky, seemingly grasping at the stars themselves.
Katie had left to grab us something to drink, but that was a while ago. I’m guessing she got caught up talking to a friend or something. I feel a little awkward sitting out here alone, watching everybody partying and having a good time. But in a strange way, it’s comfortable. I’ve never been the type to dance around the bonfire. I’m the type who sits here on the fringe in the shadows. Always have been.
“So, you did make it. And here I thought you stood me up.”
My heart lurches at the sound of his voice and a warmth spreads through me as I watch Ryan walk over to me. He’s carrying a cup in each hand, and he smiles down at me as he hands me one of them, then drops down into the sand beside me. I raise the cup to my nose and take a sniff, wincing at the pungent aroma wafting out of it.
I frown at him. “Jesus, what in the hell is in this?”
“Honestly, I couldn’t tell you,” he replies. “Smells like you can strip paint with it, though.”
“You’re not lying.” I laugh.
He takes a sip of his own drink and frowns, his gaze locked onto the vast expanse of ocean before us. He’s got a strong jawline and even in profile, half-covered by the dark, his good looks shine through. It makes my heart skip a beat and the heat that fills my body feels as hot as the flames from the bonfire. I’m surprised Ryan can’t feel it.
“What are you doing, hanging out here all by yourself?” he asks. “This is a party. You should be getting to know people.”
I laugh softly. “I have a confession to make: I’m not great in social situations.”
“And yet you came anyway.”
He flashes me a smile that nearly stops my heart in my chest. I kick myself inside for having this kind of reaction to him. There are a million different reasons for me to avoid any sort of emotional entanglement with anybody. Of course, there were also a million reasons for me to not come to this bonfire in the first place and yet, like Ryan said, I came anyway.
“I did,” I reply. “I thought it might do me some good, getting out and being around people. But you should still be really flattered.”
“Oh, I am. More flattered than I’ve ever been.” He grins and nudges my shoulder. “Is that the only reason you came tonight? To be around people?”
“And what other reason would there be?”
“Oh, you know, to see me.”
I laugh. “Well, aren’t you cocky?”
“I’ve been told it’s one of my better qualities.”
“Yeah, well, you’ve been lied to,” I tease. “Cocky isn’t a good look on anybody.”
His grin is, well, cocky. “Most girls like a guy who’s a little bit cocky.”
“I’m not most girls. And for your information, I prefer confident—not cocky.”
“Duly noted.”
He takes another drink and frowns, tossing the rest of it into the sand. I follow suit and pour out the paint stripper in my cup. He flashes me a grin.
“Not a drinker?”
I shake my head. “No, not really. Never got a taste for it.”
“That’s probably a good thing.”
A large wave crashes against the shore with a sound like thunder. I close my eyes and listen to the rhythm of the ocean, letting it soothe me. Nothing has ever calmed me the way the ocean does. And given the way my heart is leaping all around my chest right now, I need to be soothed.
Katie is headed in our direction with another girl when she spots Ryan sitting next to me. She grins and turns around, walking back the way she came.
“Subtle,” Ryan says.
“Yeah, I’m seeing that subtlety isn’t one of her stronger suits.”
I’m watching Katie and her friend walk away when I spot the two girls from the bookstore, Brittany and Lacey, standing together near the fire. When I see them glare at Katie, I tense up and start to get to my feet, but Ryan puts his hand on my arm to stop me.
“They know to be cool,” he says. “They won’t give her any grief. The last thing they want is to be slapped by the new girl. Again.”
We share a laugh, but I keep my eye on the bitch brigade. They’re still glaring at Katie and are obviously talking shit about her, but Ryan was right—neither one makes a move toward her. It’s then I notice a tall, leggy brunette striding toward us. She’s got on short shorts that showcase long, toned legs, and her full breasts fill out the midriff-bearing shirt she’s wearing despite the cold. Quite obviously, she prefers looking good to staying warm. Style over substance, that one.
She stops in front of Ryan and I, glaring down at us imperiously, as if she were a queen surveying the peasants. As she stands there silently judging us, I hear Ryan sigh.
“What do you want, Renee?”
She shrugs. “Just to get a look at the bitch who slapped my friends.”
“Tatum.” I give her a saccharine sweet smile. “Nice to meet you. Whoever you are.”
Ryan stifles a laugh and looks away as this Renee narrows her eyes and clenches her jaw. She folds her arms over her chest, her expression souring even more.
“Tatum, this is Renee Shapiro,” Ryan says. “Empress of the known universe and beyond.”
I laugh, earning me a hard scowl from Empress Renee. But then she turns that glare from me to Ryan.
“Don’t mind Ryan, he’s just pissed that I would never give it up,” she spits.
He laughs. “You screwed everybody else on the baseball team. I just felt left out, is all.”
Her face darkens. “Fuck you, Ryan.”
“Sorry, I haven’t had a penicillin shot, but thanks anyway.”
“You are such a prick.” She sneers at him then turns back to me. “If I were you, new girl, I’d keep my head down and stay the fuck away from my friends.”
Ryan and I laugh together as Renee turns on her heel and storms away. She heads straight toward Brittany and Lacey and huddles with them, no doubt telling them what an evil slag I am. Not that I care. My two-minute meet-and-greet with her was enough to tell me what kind of person she is—which is not the kind of person I want to associate with.
“Don’t sweat her,” Ryan tells me. “She’s all bark, no bite. But her bark is usually enough to scare people off. For whatever reason, she intimidates people.”
“I don’t scare easily. I’ve dealt with girls like her before.”
“I don’t doubt it. But I will warn you, even though she’s mostly bark, you still want to watch your back around her,” he advises. “It’s not often, but when she does bite, she can be really nasty.”
“Got it. Thanks for the heads up.”
We spend the next hour or so shutting out the world as we talk and get to know one another. We ignore the party—and all of the calls to come join the festivities—wrapped in a bubble where only he and I exist and the only voices we hear are each other’s.
/> The more I get to know about Ryan, the more I like him. The connection I feel to him has formed so fast and so suddenly, it takes me aback. I’ve never felt like this about somebody this quickly before. But we click on so many levels that not only do I not know what to make of it, it scares the hell out of me. Having had so many bad experiences with guys, I’m skeptical about them overall—while my heart is turning somersaults, my brain is warning me to throttle it back.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
I give him a smile. “It’ll cost you a whole lot more than that, my friend.”
“Now who’s being cocky?”
I shrug. “Not at all. I just know my worth.”
Ryan laughs and looks over at me, seemingly at a loss for words. As his voice trails off, we’re left in a silence that suddenly feels saturated with a sense of anticipation. We stare into each other’s eyes for a moment and that anticipation builds ever higher. My heart is thundering in my chest and my throat feels as dry as the Mojave.
My breath catches in my throat as he leans over. It’s as if the entire world has started to move in slow motion as I watch him drawing closer. My mind is screaming at me to stop this, to not let this happen, but my body refuses to comply. The distance between us disappears and when his lips touch mine, I swear to God I see fireworks explode behind my eyes.
A white-hot pulse of electricity washes over me, setting my skin on fire. He pushes his tongue past my lips, the tip just touching my own tongue, and my groan is lost in his mouth. Ryan leans forward, pushing me backward onto the sand. It’s soft and shifting beneath me and as our kiss deepens, I start to feel lightheaded. With sensations washing through me, I’m lost in the moment and feel myself melting into him.
He slides his hand beneath my hoodie and I gasp when his cold fingers touch my bare belly. I shrink back from him and let out a sharp cry.
“Oh my God, that is freezing!” I squeal.
He withdraws his hand quickly and apologizes with a laugh. We sit up again, which is good. It gives me a minute to catch my breath and to take a step back. As natural as that felt, I don’t want to let myself get caught up in him too soon. I don’t want to get carried away and do something I’ll come to regret.