Chasing Truth

by Julie Cross

  “Dude, we’re hanging out at the beach club later. Meet me there…it should be fine. I can sneak away.”

  I straighten up, my eyes wide.

  “Yeah, there… I’ll text you… Uh-huh… Behind the—”

  “Ellie!” Harper calls, then a knock on my door follows.

  I lift the receiver Connie gave me, fighting the urge to throw it against the wall. Instead, I yank out the headphone plug and tuck the little box under my pillow.

  “Harper!” I yell back, my hand on the doorknob. “I hope you know you just ruined a week of—”

  It isn’t my sister standing in front of me. It’s Justice and Chantel. Harper appears behind them, a bit flustered. “Your friends are here.”

  “Oh…hey.” I smooth my expression to a more pleasant one. “Wasn’t expecting you guys.” Like, ever.

  “I know, right?” Justice says. She steps around me and enters my room before I can invite her. Now I know why Harper looked so flustered. I shrug at my sister but wave her away. I can handle these two. But God-freakin’-damn they have the worst timing.

  “This place is adorable,” Justice says.

  Her gaze roams over my room, which is quite bare. When I came to live with my sister, I literally had the clothes I was wearing and nothing else. I’ve acquired some things since then, but mostly I share a wardrobe, makeup, and hair stuff with my sister. Aside from school uniforms, which I know Aidan went into credit card debt paying for, though he won’t admit it.

  “Uh…thanks.” I close the books open on my bed and pile them neatly. “It’s a work in progress.”

  “I meant the apartment.” Justice is still studying my personal space. She practically gasps when she opens the closet and sees that it’s nearly empty. “This room, on the other hand…”

  My face heats up. “Yeah, well…”

  She moves to the window, peeking out the blinds, then raising them. “Oh lord. What a view.”

  Chantel joins her friend to gawk out the window. “God, that’s beautiful.”

  I roll my eyes and walk over. Sure enough, Miles is in the pool, performing that flawless butterfly stroke of his. “I’m waiting for winter so I can watch him turn blue out there.”

  Chantel’s boyfriend, Jacob, is standing out by the pool looking incredibly bored. I ask them about it and Chantel shrugs and says he’s fine waiting.

  Justice slams the blinds shut, spins around, and eyes the books on my bed. “I don’t know how you get any studying done with all these distractions.”

  I attempt to laugh it off like I’m immune to Miles’s hotness, but I’m so not. Which is exactly why my blinds were closed before Justice barged in.

  “I know a great decorator,” Chantel says, her gaze locked on the stack of milk crates I’ve used to build a nightstand. “Of course he might go into cardiac arrest before he even pulls out the paint swatches…”

  “I’m a great decorator.” Justice holds a hand to her chest. Chantel snorts. Justice stares at her. “What? I am. Remember Catherine’s dorm room?” Chantel gives her this blank look and Justice gives up, turning her back to her friend. “Please, Ellie, let me do this project. I promise no cardiac arrest. What’s your budget?”

  I laugh nervously. I’m being set up for something. “Um, nothing.”

  “Well, that won’t work,” Chantel says.

  “Bedroom decor for no cost.” Justice turns a slow, dramatic circle, a grin sliding over her face. “Challenge accepted.”

  Chantel snaps her gum. “She just wants to stare out your window.”

  Probably. I take a seat on my bed and hug my pillow. “So…you guys came over here with Jacob? You could invite him up here, you know?”

  “Right!” Justice flips her dark hair over one shoulder. “You’re hanging out with us tonight.”

  “At the beach club,” Chantel finishes, though she doesn’t seem too happy about this. “Bret sent us to drag you away from your homework.”

  He had asked me to come out with him earlier and I told him I had too much homework. It’s not easy pretending to be into him, and I have to be in just the right mind-set. But Dominic’s phone call earlier has got me suddenly in the mood to hang out at this beach club place. Which is what, exactly? Some kind of nightclub? I haven’t owned a fake ID for months now, honest life and all that, so hopefully age won’t be an issue at this club.

  “It wasn’t just Bret who wanted you to come,” Justice says, sounding genuine enough. “Chantel’s too busy hooking up with Jacob and I need a wing-girl for Miles. That guy is tough to crack.”

  Tell me about it. “He sounded like he was interested when he and Bret were talking about you. Maybe he’s not into short-term relationships? With him leaving in a couple of months…”

  “Why is he even here?” Justice states. “I don’t get it.”

  “His parents are on sabbatical or something. They’re, like, out of the country, at least that’s what Jacob heard from Dominic.” Chantel looks at her phone. “We totally need to go. It’s a long drive.”

  Sabbatical? Are they professors?

  I change quickly, brush my teeth and hair. I don’t look nearly as put together as the two of them, but with Chantel tapping her foot constantly and checking the time on her cell, I’m out of options.

  “Did you say it’s a long drive?” I ask when we’re leaving my bedroom.

  “Like, an hour, I think, or maybe—” Justice stops after nearly plowing into Aidan, who’s just walked through the front door. She turns and gives me this look, like, who is this? “Sorry, that was totally my fault.”

  “No problem.” Aidan flashes both girls a grin, and I can practically hear their internal sighs. He sticks out a hand. “I’m Aidan, Ellie’s—”

  “Sister’s boyfriend,” I finish for him. I give Chantel and Justice a nudge toward the door before any hand-shaking can happen. They might not recover from it. “We’re in a hurry. Long drive and all.”

  “Where to?” Aidan asks at the same time as Harper.

  I turn to them, shrug, and mouth that I’ll text them soon.

  Once we’re outside, Justice shakes her head. “Like I said, your place is full of distractions.”

  Jacob latches onto Chantel as soon as he sees us and seems perfectly content to stay that way. In the parking lot of our apartment complex, Bret is leaning against a gray SUV. Dominic climbs out of the driver’s seat, a brown fast-food bag in his hand. He sees me, balls up the bag, and aggressively slam-dunks it into a nearby garbage can.

  Just the sight of him this close to me, not talking through my headphones, knowing about those newspaper clippings in his bag, I can’t fight the chill that runs through my body. He creeps me out. As much as I want to ignore that feeling for the sake of getting on his good side, it’s not that easy. Not when it’s become so personal.

  “Dude, what took you so long?” Dominic says.

  Miles appears fresh out of the shower, wearing jeans and a snug-fitting gray T-shirt. “Sorry, I lost track of time.” He claps his hands and his eyes land on me for a brief second, though he doesn’t seem surprised to see me. “Are we leaving or what?”

  This question sends Justice and Chantel into a silent argument over who is riding with whom, I assume. That’s when I realize that Bret’s red convertible is parked beside Dominic’s SUV. Bret catches my eye and nods toward his car. So much for my plan to impress Dominic with my love of screaming punk music. I know all the yells to at least five songs now.

  “Ride with me, man,” Dominic says to Miles. But when Justice takes a step toward his car, Dominic makes up some lame excuse about his dog getting mud all over the backseat.

  When Bret finally backs out of the parking lot—Chantel, Jacob, and Justice reluctantly squeezed into his tiny backseat—I glance longingly at my apartment, cursing myself for not grabbing the receiver and headphones tucked under my pillow.

  Bret flashes me a grin and rests a hand on my knee. “You ready for this?”

  “Oh yeah, totally.” I s
tare at his fingers curled over my knee. “The beach club. Can’t wait.”

  Bret and I ride in silence for a while, letting the backseat chatter drift our way.

  “I just want to get rid of her,” Jacob says.

  Bret glances into the backseat. “Get rid of who?”

  “The adulteress who’s screwing his dad,” Chantel explains.

  “His new personal assistant,” Jacob says, his voice full of disgust. “I think she’s taking the personal part way too literally.”

  “What’s the big deal?” Bret says. “My dad screws around all the time, and I don’t give a shit.”

  “Must be nice for you,” Jacob says. “But my mom’s a judge, remember? She catches him and she’ll get everything—the house, the cars, my allowance. Knowing her, she’ll dump it in some lame-ass charity. My dad knows I know all this and knows I’ll keep my fucking mouth shut.”

  Poor little rich boy. Mom’s taking away the trust fund.

  “God,” Justice mutters. “Why do parents suck so bad at sneaking around? We should give your dad lessons on not getting caught.”

  “No kidding,” Jacob says. “Check this out.”

  He plays a video from his phone and not five seconds in, Justice and Chantel both squeal.

  “Turn it off!” Chantel shouts.

  I hold my hand out to Jacob. “Let me see it.”

  He hands it over without question, and I manage to stomach the home office sex tape better than my peers. Jacob’s dad is not what one would refer to as a chick magnet. He’s round in the middle, bald on top…geeky software type. And this woman, his new assistant who is concealed beneath the desk for half the video, is definitely in the realm of hot. Blond, long legs, under thirty.

  “Has he done something like this before?” I ask. “To your knowledge?”

  “No, definitely not. He’s… Well, look at him.” Jacob lifts a hand to the phone as if his dad’s appearance should tell all.

  It doesn’t tell all. Not necessarily. Where the truth lies is in his history and the fact that he is clearly not in control here.

  “She must have filled out some application to work for your dad, right?” I turn around in my seat to face Jacob and hand back the phone. “You know how to do a background check?”

  “Probably, but no to the background check. How would I know how to do that? Don’t you have to be a cop or something?”

  “Get me that application with her Social Security number and your credit card and I’ll take care of it.” I sink back against the chair. “She’ll be gone by the end of the week.”

  “How?” Chantel says, her snotty voice turned all the way up. “It’s illegal to fire someone for having sex with you. That’s harassment.”

  “No one is firing her.” I kick my shoes up onto the dash. “She’ll leave on her own. And she’ll do it quietly without complaint. And then Jacob will owe me five hundred bucks.”

  Bret glances at me, quirks an eyebrow. “Is that the going rate for a friendly favor?”

  “I’m all about the friends, but I’ve got an empty college fund to fill and a twenty-six-year-old paying my dentist bill. Besides…” I nod to Jacob in the backseat. “He can afford it.”

  “You get her to leave and go far away from my dad, I’ll pay double that,” Jacob says.

  “Done,” I say, and then we fist-bump on it.

  “Remind me not to let you negotiate anything for me,” Justice tells him. “Like, ever.”

  I’m high on adrenaline the rest of the drive, going through ideas in my head for helping Jacob with his problem. As soon as I know Miss Mistress USA’s weakness via background check, I’ll know what to do to get her to quit.

  “Badass Ellie,” Justice says. “Guess we’d better watch what you do with that knife in your hand.”

  I flash her my sweetest smile. “What knife?”

  “Exactly,” Bret says.

  Exactly. It’s the only way I know how to be.

  CHAPTER 16

  It turns out the beach club is at the actual beach. As in sand and seashells and big waves crashing every few seconds against the dock we’re all seated on. But this beach is private, part of the exclusive beach club that everyone except Miles and me seems to be members of.

  If I had known the location beforehand, I’m not sure I would have left the house. Luckily, I’m too busy keeping an eye on Dominic, waiting for him to text someone about their meet-up location, to be freaked about the ocean. If only I had actually heard where this meeting location is… Behind something. That’s all I know.

  When we got here, a waiter in dress pants and a bow tie served us fruity martinis and appetizers on the club’s dining patio.

  I’ve done the country-club scene many times before but never as myself. Country-club jobs were a favorite of my dad’s. The cons didn’t involve much creativity, in my opinion. We were usually new in town, having just opened a new branch of our fictional family company, and looking for someone to sponsor our membership to the country club so that Daddy’s golf game wouldn’t suffer. Of course we always came with the highest recommendations from our previous country club. We made friends; we wined and dined. We came up with a way to get one of those rich, unsuspecting families to hand us a bunch of money. After that, we bolted, taking our fake company and new money with us.

  “Is anyone going to fill me in on this tradition of yours?” I hear Miles say from a ways down the dock.

  I look over, and he’s got a hand on Justice’s shoulder, then he leans in to her and whispers something right in her ear. A shiver runs up my spine just imagining being in her place.

  God, I’m as bad as her and Chantel.

  Speaking of Chantel… The second we drifted from the club’s patio to the beach, she and Jacob decided public make-out sessions in the sand were a turn-on, and now we’re all forced to keep our eyes away from their spot. Which is why we ended up on the dock—easier to keep our backs to them. I’m hoping they get some sand in hard-to-reach places.

  Bret plops down beside me, his pants carefully rolled up. He’s got two drinks in his hands. “What do you think?”

  “Of what?” I accept the drink from him but set it beside me. I’ve had enough already. “The rich kids’ club? It’s tolerable.”

  “You’re funny.” He laughs and takes a gulp of his drink. “I mean the plan. Are you game?”

  “Game for what?” I glance down at the beginning of the dock, checking to make sure Dominic is still there. When is he meeting this secret person?

  Bret puts both hands on my shoulders, turning me out toward the water. He leans close and points a finger out at a lighthouse in the water. “Every year, on the last night of beach season, Justice, Chantel, Dominic, Jacob, and I swim out to that island.”

  “To the lighthouse?” My stomach knots. “In the dark? The sign says no swimming after six p.m.”

  “Scared of sharks?” Bret asks, leaning in again.

  I am now. Among other things.

  Behind me, Justice stands. She makes a big show of helping Miles to his feet. Dominic joins them, and the three of them remove their shoes and outer layers of clothing. Chantel and Jacob abandon their make-out spot and head onto the dock. I glance back at the twinkling lights on the beach club’s patio. Surely someone will see us and put a stop to this, right?

  I slide back from the edge of the dock. I don’t know if I can watch. I turn my back to the water, but the sound of splashing from five people jumping in together is just as bad as seeing it. They’re all laughing. Loud as hell. Making no effort to keep this a secret activity. Maybe they’re too rich to get in trouble?

  “I think I’ll stay up here, keep my hair dry,” I tell Bret. “Yell if you need anything.”

  He laughs but doesn’t move to strip down like everyone else. Instead he slides closer to me. Like close close. “Maybe I’ll sit it out this year.”

  Before I can get myself into the mind-set of a girl who wants Bret Thomas in her personal space, his lips are hovering over mine
. I panic. A voice inside my head shouts, No no no. My heart thuds against my rib cage. Suddenly the ocean doesn’t look so scary.

  “On second thought…” I take a step back from him and kick off my shoes. I turn. Run. And then I jump.

  Off the end of the dock. Into the ocean.

  The water isn’t as cold as I expected, but it tastes terrible. My head emerges, and I spit out a mouthful of salty water and tread. See? I can do this. I am doing this. I’m swimming. In the ocean.

  Above me, on the dock, Bret is shaking his head like I’m crazy. “You forgot about your clothes!”

  Right. That explains the drenched cotton weighing me down. The others are quite a ways ahead. Bret quickly strips down and plunges in.

  “Beckett!” he shouts once his head surfaces. “Your ass is dead.”

  A wave crashes over my face, and I fight to tread properly and keep my head above the water. The dock already seems far away. Shouldn’t the waves pull me back toward it?

  “Not a chance,” Miles yells back. “In fact, I’m gonna float here like a lazy ass and let you catch up.”

  Another wave, bigger this time, smacks me right in the face. Water shoots up my nose and I inhale, trying to get air, but more water charges into my lungs. I cough and try to turn my back to the waves.

  “Ellie, get over here!” Justice says.

  I can barely make out her bobbing head.

  Relax, Ellie. Don’t fight the water. Go with it.

  That was the first thing Aidan taught me once he figured out I couldn’t swim. I can’t swim. Yes, you can, you idiot. Even in the dark, the curve of an oncoming wave is distinct, and it’s obvious before it hits me that this one is turning rough.

  My whole head goes under, my body tumbling. The world tilts itself, blurring the lines between up and down. Relax. You’re okay.

  My lungs scream for a breath. Where is the surface? I try to open my eyes and see my way out, but the water stings so badly and everything is dark.