Spring: A High School Bully Romance (Sunset Beach High Book 3)

by McKayla Box

  “Nothing.”

  “Liar,” I say. “Say it.”

  She takes a deep breath. “Maybe you should tell him. Maybe more people should know. What they did to you was fucking criminal, Presley. It's not okay.”

  “I know,” I say. “It's been on my mind. A lot.”

  And it has. It bothers me that while I've stood up to them, there were no consequences for what they did. I may have faced them down, but it doesn't really feel like I won. I can't quite figure it out, but it still doesn't feel right. It's like I have the pieces to a puzzle, but I don't know how to put them together.

  “I'd love to see them go down,” Bridget says. “Shanna and Athena. Both of them.”

  I nod. “Yeah. Me, too. Maybe. I don't know.” I take a deep breath and exhale. “But there's no way I can stay home and watch my dad go on a date with Shanna Becker's mother.”

  Bridget raises an eyebrow. “So?”

  I smile. “So I guess I'm going to Santa Barbara.”

  SEVEN

  “You're coming?” Gina asks.

  “I'm coming,” I say.

  She screams and wraps me in a bear hug.

  We are in the parking lot of The Hamburger Hut for lunch and Bridget has just told them I'm coming to Santa Barbara.

  “You cost me twenty bucks,” Maddie says.

  I look at her, confused.

  “I bet Gina you wouldn't come,” she says, smiling. “I'm happy to pay up.”

  “Yeah, bitch!” Gina yells. “Pay me!”

  Maddie rolls her eyes. “Whatev.”

  It feels almost normal. We're laughing and joking. We're at our favorite lunch place.

  I think I need normal.

  We order our food and find our old booth. The restaurant is packed and for the first time in a long time, I don't feel like everyone is looking at me. I feel like I can breathe.

  “Alright, I've got the tent,” Gina says. “My dad is a fucking psycho who makes us go camping ever summer, so we have this huge ten person tent.”

  “Do you know how to set it up?” Maddie asks.

  “Fuck no,” Gina says. “I said I'd bring it. That's as far as it goes.”

  “I can get it set up,” Bridget says. “My family has been camping a million times.”

  “I've never been,” I say.

  “Me, either,” Maddie says. “My idea of camping is a hotel that doesn't offer breakfast. I need a bed and a shower.”

  “Well, you're shit out of luck this weekend,” Gina says.

  “I'm bringing a credit card,” Maddie says. “Just in case.”

  We all laugh and our food arrives.

  “Who's in charge of booze?” Gina asks.

  Maddie raises her hand. “On it. The trunk will be stocked.”

  “I can bring food,” I offer. “Snacks and stuff like that.”

  “I need Oreos,” Gina says. “And Doritos.”

  “Done,” I say.

  We eat our food and I realize I'm actually looking forward to the weekend now.

  I glance at the window and I see Trevor's truck roaring into the lot, music streaming from the windows. He jumps out from behind the driver's seat, Brett and Jake hopping out the other side. Trevor is wearing a navy blue T-shirt and gray board shorts. His hair is super blond and a little longer than the last time I ran my fingers through it.

  Bridget catches my eye and raises an eyebrow.

  I shrug.

  They walk in and head to the register to order. The place seems smaller when they are in it. Trevor tells the guy behind the counter what he wants, then steps to the side to let Brett and Jake order. He runs a hand through his hair and his eyes wash over the restaurant.

  They stop when they get to me.

  I'm too late to look away.

  I give him half a smile.

  The corner of his mouth flickers and he lifts his chin in my direction.

  It's as much public interaction as we've had in I'm not sure how long.

  And it doesn't go unnoticed.

  “The fuck is all that?” Gina whispers. “Presley? Spill it.”

  “It's nothing,” I say. “Just saying hi.”

  “That's hi?” she says. “It looks like he's saying come to my truck so we can do it.”

  We all laugh and I shake my head.

  “It's nothing,” I tell them.

  “They can be friends,” Bridget says. “It's not that weird.”

  “Since fucking when?” Maddie asks, squinting at me. “And Trevor Robinson has never been friends with any girl I know of since, like, first grade.”

  “They can be friends,” Bridget says again. “Chill.”

  The guy behind the counter calls a number and Trevor grabs the white bag of food. He heads for the door, Brett and Jake right behind him.

  “Be right back,” I say, sliding out of the booth.

  “Oh, shit,” Gina says. “If you guys are gonna fuck in the back of the truck, I'm totally watching.”

  I can't stop laughing as I hustle to the door and outside.

  “Hey!” I say.

  They are almost to the truck, but all three of them turn around.

  Jake grins. “Gina come to her senses? She send you to come to tell me she wants me?”

  “No, she still has eyes,” I say.

  Brett laughs.

  The corner of Trevor's mouth twitches.

  “Why you gotta be so mean to me, Presley?” Jake asks. “Come on now.”

  I ignore him and look at Trevor. “You have a second?”

  He hesitates, then nods. “Yeah. What's up?”

  I follow him over to the driver's side. He leans back against the door. It's as close as I've been to him in months, closer than when I ran into him at the beach. I can smell the ocean and soap on him. I want to inhale all of him.

  “I'm going,” I say.

  He squints at me for a second, then recognition flashes through his eyes. “To Santa Barbara?”

  I nod. “Yeah. I'm going. So...I just said I'd tell you if I was going.” I shrug. “So. Yeah.”

  He opens up the bag of food and reaches in. He pulls out a fry and pops it into his mouth. He holds out the open bag. I reach in and grab one and eat it.

  “Should I go then?” he asks.

  “I don't know,” I say. “I guess it's up to you.”

  “I'm asking if you want me to go,” he says.

  “Not for me to say.”

  “But you could.”

  “But I'm not gonna.”

  He pulls out another fry and points it at me. “I think you want me to go.”

  I reach in the bag and eat another one. “I'm not saying I don't want you to go.”

  “That's a double negative.”

  I shrug.

  “What are we doing here, Presley?” he asks.

  “Having lunch?”

  Both corners of his mouth flicker upward and I want to shove my tongue in his mouth.

  “Not what I mean,” he says. “But you know that.”

  “I don't know,” I say. “I'm just telling you that I'm going because I told you I would tell you if I decided to go.”

  He folds the top of the bag over. “Alright. Thanks for telling me.”

  I nod and walk back toward the restaurant. By the time I slide back into the booth, he's already peeling out of the parking lot.

  “What the fuuuuuuck?” Gina asks. “And do not tell me that was hi.”

  I laugh. “It was nothing. I told him I was going to Santa Barbara. It's a long story, but I told him I'd tell him if I was going.”

  “It's a long story,” Maddie says. “Like we don't have time for a long story.”

  “It's nothing,” I say. “I promise. If there's anything to tell, I'll tell you. And I don't even know if he's going up there this weekend.”

  “Oh, he's going,” Gina says.

  “How do you know?” Bridget asks.

  “Because his eyes were glued to Presley's ass when she walked back in here,” Gina says. “He's gon
na follow that ass all the way up the coast this weekend.” She looks at me. “And, so help me, if you two fuck in that truck, I'm gonna be in the cab watching.”

  We all dissolve into laughter.

  EIGHT

  I have no idea what to pack for the weekend.

  It's Friday after school and I've got clothes strewn out all over my bed. Maddie will be here in less than an hour and I just need to shove some stuff in a bag and get on with it. I grab my bathing suit, a couple of pairs of shorts, a couple of T-shirts, a sweatshirt, and underwear. I toss my bathroom stuff in an overnight bag and shove everything into a backpack. I grab my charger and zip it into the small pocket on the side.

  “Pres! Can you come here for a sec?” my dad calls.

  “Coming,” I yell back.

  I zip up the bag, set it out in the hallway, and head down toward his room.

  He's standing in front of the mirror in his closet, frowning. “I'm not sure this is it.”

  I've picked out a blue and white checked shirt to go with a pair of gray jeans. “Why not?”

  “I don't know,” he says. “It feels too casual.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Just to dinner,” he says. “A drink first, then dinner at this place down by the club.”

  “Is it formal?”

  He frowns. “No. It's like a bar.”

  “Then you need to be casual,” I tell him. “If you're too dressed up, it'll look like you're there for work.”

  He studies himself in the mirror and fiddles with the buttons on the shirt. “Right. Okay.” He adjusts the belt and turns around. “Do I look alright?”

  “You look great,” I say.

  “I'm serious,” he says. “Don't lie.”

  “You look great,” I tell him. “Seriously. And relax. You're just having dinner.”

  He takes a deep breath. “Right. Okay.” He shakes his head. “I forgot what this was like.”

  “Forgot what what's like?”

  “Dating,” he says. “It's been so damn long. I was with your mom for a long time. I don't remember it being this much work. Or so stressful.”

  I sit on the edge of his bed. “It doesn't have to be. Just relax. You're having dinner with a friend. No pressure.”

  And please don't bring her home.

  “Right,” he says. “Right. Okay. I can do this.”

  “You can.”

  He takes another deep breath and sets his hands on his hips. “Okay. Are you all set for your trip?”

  “Yeah, think so.”

  “You have money?”

  I nod. “Yeah.”

  “And you'll text me when you get up there?”

  “Yep.”

  “And sometime tomorrow to let me know you're still alive?”

  I laugh. “Yes. I'll send a photo for proof of life.”

  He gives me a stern look. “I'm serious. I need to hear from you.”

  “I know and you will.”

  “And what time will you be back on Sunday?” he asks.

  “Not really sure,” I say. “Probably not until later on. Like dinnertime. But I will text you and let you know when we go to leave.”

  “And you're just camping on the beach?” he asks.

  “That's what they tell me.”

  “Are you taking your surfboard?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Be careful,” he says. “You haven't surfed up there before. It'll be different. You shouldn't go out alone.”

  “I know,” I say, trying not to get frustrated with him. “I'm sure other people will be out in the water, too. I'll take a buddy.”

  He frowns. “I'm being serious, Presley.”

  “I know you are,” I answer. “So am I. I won't do anything dumb while I'm there and I'll stay in touch with you. I promise.”

  He gives me a long look, then nods. “Okay.” He turns back to the mirror and runs a hand over the shirt. “I guess this is as good as it's getting.”

  “You look great,” I tell him. “Stop worrying about how you look and focus on having a nice night.”

  He takes a deep breath, puffs up his cheeks, then exhales. “Okay. I'll try.” He turns back to me. “Why do I feel like the kid here and you're the parent?”

  “I'm the parent?” I say. “I should make some decisions that benefit me.”

  “Ha,” he says, then motions for me to come to him. “Give me a hug.”

  We hug and he kisses the top of my head. “I gotta go so I'm not late. Let me know once you leave.”

  “I will,” I tell him. “But don't be on your phone all night. That's rude.”

  He chuckles. “That is very funny coming out of your mouth.”

  “I'm serious,” I tell him. “Don't keep your phone out. Have a conversation without it. Use the bathroom if you need to check it.”

  He gives me another squeeze then lets go. “Got it. And I'm going to remember you said that the next time you're ignoring me in favor of your phone.”

  “And I'll be happy to point out to you that we aren't on a date,” I tell him.

  I walk with him to the garage. He grabs his keys from the hook, hugs me one last time, and goes to the car. The garage door rises up, he gets into his car, waves, and backs up.

  I want him to have a good time. I really do. He needs something other than me and work.

  But I really wish it was with anyone other than Shanna Becker's mother.

  NINE

  Maddie pulls into my driveway ten minutes later than she is supposed to and I go outside with my stuff. The back of her car is so loaded it looks like we're moving. The tent, chairs, towels, bags, shoes. I manage to squeeze my stuff in, put the two bags of food I've brought on top of our bags so nothing gets smashed, and then strap my board to the rack on her roof.

  “I feel so cool with a surfboard up there,” she says. “First time ever.”

  “Maybe we'll meet some surfer boys along the way,” Gina says.

  “There's one board,” Bridget says. “And three of us don't surf.”

  “We can fake it,” Gina says. “Just as long as I don't have to fake anything else.”

  We laugh and get into the car. Maddie and Gina up front, Bridget and I in the back. It's been a long time since I've been in the car with them. I was afraid it might be awkward, but it's like it never stopped. My stomach is still tight and I'm still anxious for a lot of reasons. I'm still hesitant to open up completely to them, to let things go back to the way they were.

  But I'm getting there.

  The traffic out of Sunset as we go north sucks. It takes a couple of hours to get through Los Angeles. They all gripe about it, but I don't mind. I've never been into L.A. I look out the windows the entire time, looking at buildings and homes. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but what I see isn't it. It's not glamorous and it's not cool. It's crowded and the houses are old and the few skyscrapers I see are in the distance. We pass the exit for the UCLA campus and that's the only area that is remotely interesting to me. I guess all of the cool things I've read about aren't visible from the freeway.

  “Alright,” Maddie says. “I finally decided.” She points to the exit. “I'm going to grant my father's biggest wish and go to UCLA.”

  Gina and Bridget scream and Gina leans across the seat to hug her.

  “You're gonna make me crash!” Maddie says.

  “I'm happy for you,” Gina says. She turns around to look at me. “I'm going to USC, if you didn't know.”

  “I didn't,” I say. “That's awesome. For both of you.”

  “Yeah, and this bitch will only be like half an hour away from me,” Gina says, turning back around. “So now I can scope dudes at two campuses.”

  We all laugh.

  I look at Bridget. “Did you decide yet?”

  Gina snorts. “Oh, yeah. Ask Miss Smartypants where she's going.”

  Bridget smiles and looks a little sheepish. “I got into Stanford.”

  “What the hell?” I say. “That's amazing!”

>   “It's fucking ridiculous is what it is,” Maddie says. “Our girl has a massive brain.”

  “I was shocked I got in,” Bridget says. “And they offered me a partial scholarship, so my parents say we can swing it.”

  I lean over and hug her. “I'm so happy for you. Really.”

  She leans into me. “Thanks. Me, too.”

  “What about you, Pres?” Maddie asks. “Did you decide?”

  I pull away from Bridget. “No. Not yet.”

  “You better get on it,” Gina says.

  “I know, I know,” I say. “I got in everywhere except Berkley.” I look at Bridget. “I did not even bother applying to Stanford because I'm, like, normal.”

  They all laugh.

  “I got into UCLA, USC, Santa Barbara, and Virginia,” I tell them. “But I have no idea what I'm doing.”

  Gina twists around. “We could be roomies!!! Come be a Trojan with me!!!”

  “She probably wants to go to a good school,” Maddie says. She glances in the rearview mirror. “And the boys are better looking at UCLA.”

  “Oh, fuck off,” Gina says. “Bunch of weenies over there.” Her eyes go wide. “We would have so much fun at USC.”

  “And probably both flunk out,” Bridget says.

  I laugh. “I don't know. I just...I'm not sure yet.”

  “What are you trying to decide on?” Bridget asks.

  I look out the window. “I'm honestly not even sure. I just feel like I'm blocked. Like I can't make a decision. I don't think I really wanna go back east. I told my dad I didn't think I could leave the beach again.”

  “And your awesome fucking friends,” Gina says, smiling.

  “Those, too,” I say, smiling back. “So I'm not sure what's holding me back.”

  And that's the truth. There are things I like about each of the schools. There's nothing really to dislike about them for me. I just need to really think about what I want out of the next four years and take the plunge.

  As we crawl along on the highway, up and over the massive hill past UCLA, and down into a valley, I think about that.

  But I have no idea what I want.

  No idea.

  TEN

  Santa Barbara is gorgeous.

  It's this small city on a crescent moon-shaped piece of land that hugs the ocean. The architecture in the downtown area is old school Spanish style, with arches and stucco. Palm trees line the roads. There are shops and theaters and restaurants and everyone is out walking around. I can't believe this is the first time I'm seeing it.