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

by McKayla Box

  “What does that mean?”

  He laughs. “I seriously don't even know.”

  I don't ask anymore because I don't want him thinking I'm not on his side. I am on his side. I just don't want him forced into anything he doesn't want to be forced into. But I know he's right. Not all parents are like my dad. I'm lucky in that he's given me a lot of freedom and hasn't place any constraints on me. He's always been consistent. He expects me to be honest, to do the right thing, and to try and make good decisions.

  And as I let those words run through my head, I wonder if I've let him down by keeping things to myself.

  “This wouldn't be a bad place for you,” Trevor says. “I could see you here. You'd like it.”

  I shrug. “Maybe.”

  “What?”

  I shrug again. “I don't know. Same stuff you said. Just can't get it all figured out. Not sure where I'm supposed to be. Probably afraid a little bit of leaving my dad.”

  He nods, but doesn't say anything.

  “I've missed this,” I say.

  “Missed what? Worrying about all the shit in our lives?”

  I shake my head. “No. Just talking to you.”

  He stops and purses his lips, then looks at me. “I've never gone anywhere.”

  “Why not?” I ask.

  “The fuck does that mean?”

  “It means, why haven't you gone anywhere?” I ask. “Why haven't you been hooking up left and right? Why haven't you frozen me out?”

  The corner of his mouth turns upward. “Maybe I have been hooking up left and right.”

  I hold up my hands. “I don't wanna know then because that's fucking gross.”

  He laughs. “I haven't been. Not that I owe you an explanation, but I haven't.”

  “Good to know,” I say.

  He raises an eyebrow. “Is it?”

  I hesitate, then nod. “Yeah.”

  He watches me, then nods, too. “Okay then.”

  “But I'm serious,” I say. “Why are you still here? Why haven't you done your whole thing?”

  “My whole thing?”

  I roll my eyes. “You know what I mean. The bad boy act, the tough guy thing. When I broke up with you, I fully expected you to freeze me out and go off the rails. To try and make me regret my decision. But you haven't done any of that. At least that I know of.”

  He looks down and shuffles his feet in the sand. “I think that act was getting tired for me. Not that it was all an act, but...I don't know. I didn't wanna do that with you. Was still hoping you'd figure your shit out.”

  “And what?” I ask.

  He looks at me. “And admit you were wrong and tell me you wanna get back together with me.”

  “I wasn't wrong,” I say. “You were wrong.”

  “And I apologized,” he says. “I'm not saying I didn't fuck up. I did. I never should've believed any of that shit about you. I should've known. And I get why you were so mad at me. I seriously fucking do. I didn't blame you.” He pauses. “But I told you I was sorry and I meant it. That wasn't bullshit just to get over it. I felt pretty fucking bad about it. I felt like an asshole.”

  “Good,” I say.

  He smiles. “But there's only so much apologizing I can do. You were pretty clear on where you stood and I just felt like I was going to make it worse if I kept pushing it.” He shrugs. “So I just left it alone.”

  “But you didn't pull any of the bullshit,” I say. “Why?”

  “Because I didn't fucking want to,” he says, clearly exasperated. “Because I'd already fucked up with you and I didn't see the point in making it worse. Why? Because I'm supposed to? Fuck that.” He frowns. “How about I felt like I'd already let you down and I didn't want to do it again? How about that?”

  I'm surprised by his answer. I'm not expecting it and it catches me off-guard.

  “I'll accept that,” I finally say.

  He laughs and shakes his head.

  I grab him by the sweatshirt and pull him into me. I push up on my toes and pull his face to mine and kiss him.

  I've missed everything about kissing him. The feel of his lips. The way he tastes. Being close to him.

  Everything.

  We stay like that for awhile before he pulls back.

  “Now what the fuck are we doing?” he asks.

  I grab his sweatshirt with both hands. “You fucking hurt me. I trusted you and you hurt me.”

  “I know,” he says. “I'm sorry.”

  “I know you are,” I tell him. “I believe you. And thank you for apologizing. But don't fucking do it again.”

  He puts his hand on my cheek and I lean into it.

  “I won't doubt you again,” he says. “I swear I won't.”

  I look at him.

  He's looking right back at me.

  Those fucking eyes.

  Jesus, I've missed those fucking eyes.

  I believe him.

  I kiss him again and he kisses me back and it's like we were never apart.

  My heart races.

  He leans his forehead against mine. “I've missed you, Pres.”

  “Missed you, too.”

  He puts his arms around me and pulls me into him. He's warm and safe and everything I've ever wanted.

  “You wanna know why I didn't pull all the bullshit after we broke up?” he asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Because of this,” he says. “This. Right here, right now. Because I wanted to get back to this and I knew if I went full dickhead, we wouldn't get back here.” He pauses. “I wanted to get back to here.”

  I put my arms around him. “Me, too. I wanted this again.”

  We stand there for awhile.

  “So we're good?” he finally asks. “No dicking around? We're good?”

  I look up at him. “Yeah. We're good.”

  He leans down and kisses me and my heart damn nearly stops because there is no way that anyone in the world kisses better than he does.

  No way.

  He puts his forehead against mine again. “I love you, Pres.”

  I sigh and lean into him. “I love you, too.”

  EIGHTEEN

  We walk back toward the camp site and Trevor's holding my hand like he's never going to let go.

  Which is how I want it.

  Gina is the first to spot us coming up the beach.

  “I fucking KNEW it!” she yells.

  I laugh.

  “She has such a big fucking mouth,” Trevor mutters, but he's smiling.

  I know that people are looking and pretending not to look and it's weird.

  But I'm not hiding anything.

  At least not with him.

  We sit by the fire for awhile and I'm happy just to be sitting with him again. Jake is doing his usual banter with the girls and Gina and Maddie are giving it right back to him. Brett is sitting there, laughing and shaking his head. Bridget is doing much the same. It feels normal and right and I feel like I can breathe.

  Until the assholes show up again.

  They've cut through the crowd and I don't see them coming until they're standing on the other side of the fire ring. The brown haired guy has a cut over the bridge of his nose and he's wearing a backwards baseball hat. The two shaved heads are on either side of him and the blond kid is behind him, like he's keeping lookout.

  “Still partying like middle schoolers,” the brown haired kid says. “Figured you'd be gone by now.”

  Trevor starts to stand up, but I hold onto his arm. He looks at me and I shake my head. He hesitates then sits back down.

  “Yeah, sit the fuck down, shithead,” the guy says, eyeing Trevor.

  Trevor's arm tenses in my grip, but he stays in his beach chair.

  Jake, however, does stand up. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “The guy Presley beat the shit out of last night,” Gina announces. “How's the new haircut, asshat?”

  He glares at her. “Fuck you.”

  “Not even with someone else's dick,” Gina sa
ys.

  People laugh and it just irritates him more.

  “Take a fucking walk,” Jake says.

  “Go fuck yourself, asshole,” the guy says. “How about if you and your crew get the fuck off my beach?”

  “How about if you try and make us?” Jake says.

  “Who the fuck is this guy?” Trevor whispers.

  “I'm the guy who grabbed your girlfriend's ass last night,” the guy says. “I mistook it for her face. You guys fuck with the lights off, right? I wouldn't look at that shit, either.”

  Trevor moves again and I grab his arm again.

  “Don't,” I say. “Not worth it.”

  He stares at me for a long time, but he doesn't get up.

  He's trying.

  “And yet she still managed to kick your ass?” Brett says, his head tilted to the side. “Man, I can't believe you're still out in public.” He smiles at him. “Take off the hat so we can see the trim.” He looks at Gina. “Haircut, right?”

  Gina laughs. “You won't even believe it when you see it.”

  Jake moves like a cat and snatches the hat from the guy's head and tosses it into the fire. The guy grabs for the top of his head, but he's too slow. The hat's already in flames.

  “Holy shit,” Brett says and starts laughing.

  Just above his forehead there's a bald, red spot the size of a drink coaster. It's irritated and ugly and looks like it hurts.

  “Dude,” Jake says. “You don't have a forehead anymore. You've got a five head now. Congrats.” He looks at me. “You did that?”

  I nod.

  “Well done, girlfriend!” Jake yells.

  People laugh again.

  And I know it's just riling him up.

  Which isn't good.

  “She bust your nose, too, there, handsome?” Brett asks. “Man. She really did kick your ass.”

  His hand reflexively goes to his nose, then he drops it. He glares at me. “Fucking bitch.”

  Trevor is up this time and there's nothing I can do to keep him in his seat.

  The guy chuckles. “Oh, boyfriend is upset now? Gonna do something about it?”

  People have gathered round now and they're watching, waiting.

  My stomach knots. “Trevor, just leave it. He's so not worth it.”

  “Yeah, Trevor,” the guy says. “Listen to that ugly bitch so you don't get your ass--”

  Trevor moves before I can grab him. He puts one foot on the edge of the fire ring and vaults himself across the fire, tackling the guy to the ground. Brett follows him across, taking out the blond kid behind him, and Jake already has one of the shaved heads on the ground. The free shaved head is on top of Trevor.

  It's fucking chaos.

  People are screaming, all of them are rolling around in the sand, fists, arms, and legs flying. I'm on my feet and around the fire ring, but I can't get close to any of them because it's like they're wild animals in a brawl. I don't know who's who or what's what.

  A couple of other guys move in and try to separate them, but it's no use and they end up stumbling backward. I can't tell whether that's because they're shoved or because they're afraid.

  Trevor is on top of the brown haired guy now, straddling his chest, and wailing away on him. There's blood on the side of Trevor's cheek.

  “Stop!” I scream. “Just stop!”

  Trevor hesitates.

  I know he's heard me.

  He leans down and he's nose to nose with the guy. He says something, but I can't hear him.

  Jake has somehow laid out both of the shaved heads and they're both on their backs in the sand. Jake's shirt is torn and he's breathing heavy, but he's standing over them, looking like he's ready for more.

  Brett pushes himself off the blond guy and blood leaks from a cut above his eyebrow. He kicks him in the ribs one time and steps back.

  Trevor finally stands up, his chest heaving, glancing at me.

  And that's when I hear the sirens.

  NINETEEN

  The blue and red lights splash across the parking lot like we're in a nightclub.

  Cops come running down to the sand, pushing through the crowd. They take a quick look at the bodies on the ground and Trevor, Brett, and Jake standing there. Three of the cops separate them from the rest of us, marching them away and down toward the water. Another makes a call on his radio for an ambulance. Another tells us all to back up, but not to leave.

  More cop cars pull into the parking lot.

  It's fucking chaos.

  Again.

  The assholes are in various states of disarray. The shaved heads are sitting up, looking dazed. The blond is on his feet, blinking his eyes, like he's trying to wake up. The King of the Assholes is still on his back and an officer is crouched down, talking to him.

  The EMTs arrive and spread out, checking on the three that are still on the ground.

  I look down toward the water.

  The officers have now separated Trevor and Brett and Jake, talking to them individually.

  Other officers are now taking statements from the rest of us.

  And then I see Brett turn around and put his hands behind his back. The officer with him pulls out his handcuffs off his belt and locks them around his wrists. Brett shakes his head.

  The same thing happens with Jake.

  And then with Trevor.

  The EMTs finally get the brown haired guy off the ground and to his feet. His face is bloody and it looks like he's missing a tooth. He's glaring at me, angry.

  The EMTs call over another officer, who turns the guy around, and cuffs him.

  His friends are cuffed, too.

  Jesus fucking christ.

  Trevor, Brett, and Jake are being walked up the beach, an officer with each of them.

  Jake is grinning.

  Brett is shaking his head.

  Trevor is looking at me.

  I have no clue what to do.

  “Holy shit,” Gina whispers.

  A police officer approaches me. “Ladies, we're going to need to get statements from you. And we'll need identification as well.”

  “Are you arresting them?” I ask. “Why?”

  “Do you have identification?” the officer asks.

  “Our friends didn't start it,” I say. “Those four guys came up to us and started it. And they hassled us last night.”

  He eyes me. “Did you report it?”

  I shake my head. “No...no. It was just...we handled it. But they came back and wanted to fight.”

  The officer shrugs. “We'll get it sorted out. Right now, I need identification. From all of you.”

  “It's in our tent,” Gina says. “Can we go get it?”

  “I'll going to take your statements first,” he says. “Then we'll go over and get what you need.”

  “Are they going to jail?” I ask. “Right now?”

  “Yes, ma'am,” he says. “Until we get it all sorted out, we'll take everyone in. Now. I need your name and date of birth.”

  I give him my name and birthday as I watch the officers walk Trevor, Brett, and Jake past us to the parking lot. They take them to three separate cars, opening the rear doors.

  I watch as the officer guides Trevor into the backseat, then closes the door.

  And now it seems as if coming to Santa Barbara was the worst idea I've ever had.

  TWENTY

  We give our statements, then follow one of the officers to the police station. We sit in a small waiting area for a couple of hours. I get up and ask the guy at the desk several times if he can tell us anything, but he just waves me away, telling me he knows nothing and we'll just have to wait it out. Each time, I walk back to my seat and feel like throwing up.

  It's after one in the morning when the boys finally walk out.

  Jake is still smiling. “Freedom at last.”

  The cop with them rolls his eyes. “Get over here and sign the papers before you start celebrating.”

  They walk over to the counter and all three of the
m are handed a clipboard. They sign whatever they have to sign, then hand the clipboards back. They each get a small, clear plastic bag and I can see it's their wallets and phones.

  We stand up and walk out with them.

  I grab Trevor's arm. “Are you alright?”

  He shrugs. “Fine, I guess.”

  “What happened?”

  We all pile into Maddie's car. Jake squeezes into the very back, contorting himself into a ball. Brett gets into the passenger seat. Gina and Bridget get into the third row, Trevor and I are in the middle.

  I tug on his arm again. “What happened?”

  Trevor leans back. “I don't know. We're charged with a whole bunch of shit. Just have to see happens.”

  “What kind of shit?” Gina asks.

  “Mayhem,” Jake says from the back. “That is such a cool fucking word.”

  Maddie guides us out of the lot.

  Brett turns around. “Aggravated assault for now. And menacing or intimidation. I can't remember what all they said. Depends on if those assholes really want to press charges. If they don't, it'll be misdemeanor bullshit.”

  “So like a ticket,” Bridget says.

  Brett nods. “Yeah. But if they press charges?” He pauses. “Then it could be felonies.”

  “Oh shit,” Gina whispers.

  “Oh shit is right,” Brett says, turning back around.

  Trevor smiles at me. “You really rip that dude's hair off?”

  “What?” I ask. “Yes. But fuck I don't care about that. What's going to happen?”

  He shrugs. “No clue. We have to wait until those assholes decide what they want to do. We have to be back up here for a court date next month.”

  “Jesus,” I whisper.

  “It'll be fine,” he says. “Whatever happens, happens.”

  “We aren't going to jail,” Brett says. “I mean, most likely we're not. It'll be like fines and community service or probation or shit like that.”

  “But it goes on your record,” Maddie says. “Felonies don't go away.”

  It's exactly my thought.

  “Can't worry about it now,” Trevor says. “Just have to deal with it when we have to deal with it.”

  Except I am worried about it.

  “Did you call my dad?” he asks.