by McKayla Box
“Yeah, totally. But you don't have to do this.” I give her my number. “I'll be okay.”
“I want to,” she says, then recites her number for me. She starts to say something else, but her eyes drift over my shoulder and her smile fades. “Okay. Test number one. Dickhead football players incoming.”
I turn around.
Three boys, all in blue and white lettermen jackets, all large, all heading our way. The one in the middle has short dark hair, gray eyes, and shoulders like square blocks. They aren't quite as good looking as the boys I'd run into on the beach, but they're close.
“Hey Bridge,” the dark haired boy asks. “Who's your pal?”
“This is Presley,” she says. “Presley, these are the dickheads.”
“So unfair and uptight,” he says. “She got the d part right. I'm Derek. And this is Evan and this is Pritch.” He winks at me. “Where exactly did you come from?”
It's right then that I make the decision. At my old school, I would've shut up. I would've been too intimidated to say anything. But I don't have to be the same girl I was there.
I can be someone new in Sunset Beach.
“Her car?” I say. “Did you not see me get out of it?” I look at Bridget. “Every guy I've met here so far asks the dumbest questions.”
Bridget busts out laughing.
Derek is red-faced and his friends look no less amused.
“I'd be nice to me if I were you,” he says. “I run this place and I can make or break your life here.”
“Feels like the only thing you run is your mouth,” I say.
Bridget links her arm with mine. “See you later, boys.”
She leads me away from them and leans into me. “You are going to fit in perfectly.”
I want nothing more than that to be true.
FOUR
I pick up my schedule in the office and the morning goes by without a problem. I don't talk to many people, but no one hassles me, either. I don't encounter the football boys and I'm glad because I don't want to face them alone.
The bell rings for lunch and I walk out to the parking lot. I'm worried for a moment when I don't see Bridget, wondering if the whole thing was some elaborate prank on the new kid, but I relax the second I see her coming with two other girls.
The one on her left has gorgeous long, blonde hair, the kind you only see in magazines. She's taller than Bridget and she's wearing a sleeveless white top and a pair of killer jeans on her long legs. The girl on the other side of her has super short black hair and massive hoop hearings. Her rainbow colored top has ruffled short sleeves and she's wearing white denim shorts and these thick heeled sandals that I want to rip off of her feet and put on mine.
“Yay you're here!” Bridget says, giving me a quick hug. She points to the blonde. “Presley, this is Maddie.”
Maddie smiles. “Hey.”
“Hi,” I say.
“And this is Gina,” Bridget says, pivoting to her short-haired friend.
Gina rushes at me and wraps me in a super tight hug. “It's so good to meet you and I can't believe you have to start at a new school for senior year.” She releases me and holds me at arm's length. “We will protect you.”
“She's dramatic,” Maddie says. “You'll get used to it.”
Gina hisses at her, but smiles at me. “I might be a little dramatic.”
I laugh and immediately feel at ease, like I've found friends.
We hop into Bridget's car, me in the back with Gina, Maddie riding shotgun, and Bridget tells me we are going to The Hamburger Hut.
“Shakes to die for,” Gina tells me, grabbing my arm.
“And you can get the burgers lettuce wrapped,” Maddie says.
“Yeah, if you're not a human,” Bridget says.
“Or if you understand that carbs are evil,” Maddie counters.
“It's why she only drinks vodka,” Gina says. “Carb free. Are you coming to the Hump tonight?”
“I--”
“She's coming,” Bridget answers for me. “I've already told her she's coming. She doesn't have a choice. And you should've seen her handle Derek this morning. That dumbass didn't know what to do.”
Maddie twisted around in her seat. “Really? Nice work!”
“He seemed like a jerk,” I say.
“Oh, he is most definitely a jerk,” Gina says. “All of his little crew seem to share one brain and it's not all that big to begin with. Just like their dicks.”
Bridget and Maddie howl with laughter.
Bridget bounces us into the parking lot and she finds a space right near the door. Cars pour in behind us and we hustle inside to avoid having to wait in line.
It's a cute place, with red and white walls, pictures of the beach, and delicious smelling burgers.
“I'm buying your lunch,” Bridget says to me. “It's your welcome to Sunset Beach gift from me.”
“You don't have to do that!”
“I know I don't, but I want to,” she says. “You like everything on your burger?”
“No onions.”
“It's like you were made for us,” Gina says. “No onions for any of us.”
“There are carbs in onions,” Maddie says. “So that's a win.”
We all laugh and Bridget orders our food. Gina and Maddie follow behind us and Bridget leads us to a corner booth with windows on either side. If I look hard enough, I can make out the beach in the distance.
“Oh shit,” Bridget whispers. “Here comes your new not best friend.”
I turn and see Derek heading in our direction.
Maddie and Gina slide into the bench on the other side of the table and Gina gives Derek the same kind of up and down he'd given me earlier in the parking lot.
“This is an asshole free zone, douchebag,” Gina says. “Keep walking.”
Derek ignores her and squats down next to me. “Presley. Good to see you again.”
“Oh, kill me now,” Maddie mutters, jamming the straw into her drink.
“I can get us a table outside,” he says, smiling. His teeth are white and perfect. He smells like sandalwood. “Or we could go eat in my car. Maybe go down to the beach.” He winks. “You don't wanna get dragged down with these hags.”
“Or you could drive down to the beach and drown yourself,” Bridget says. “It would be like community service for the whole town.”
His smile flickers.
“Or maybe I should text Shanna and let her know that you're no longer interested in her dumb ass,” Maddie says, holding her phone up.
His smile fades. “Fuck off, Maddie.”
Maddie wiggles her eyebrows at him. “Just looking out for my sisters.”
He refocuses on me. “Don't listen to them. Shanna and I are on a break anyway.”
“Wow,” Maddie says. “Breaking news.”
I have no idea who Shanna is, nor do I care.
“Derek,” I say. “That's your name, right?”
“Sounds so good coming out of your mouth.”
“Right,” I say. “My guess is there are some freshmen girls somewhere out there you could run this routine on and it'll work. I'd suggest aiming lower.”
The other three try to cover their mouths and laughter.
His smile is completely gone. He stands up, looking all pissed off, ready to say something, when the truck pulls up.
It's not just any truck. It's one of those monsters that's been raised well off the ground with tires the size of regular cars. It's all black with metallic wheels, the sounds of guitars and drums thumping out of the windows. It roars into the lot and screeches to a halt right outside the window, taking up two full spaces. The engine rumbles like a plane's until it shuts off, the music still streaming out of it. Then the doors open.
And The Asshole gets out of the driver's side.
“Man,” Bridget says. “Our lucky day.” She glances at Derek and then back to the window. “Were they handing out coupons to all the douchebags at school?”
Brett gets
out of the passenger side, followed by Third Guy. Trevor The Asshole is in a black T-shirt, tan shorts, and his hair looks even blonder than the day before. He's laughing with his friends and people are slowing their pace as they head for the door, giving them a wide berth.
Gina leans forward. “Honestly. The school isn't entirely full of assholes. But you're getting a front row view to a bunch of them.”
“I know him,” I say.
The three girls and Derek all look at me.
“I...I met them at the beach yesterday,” I say. “His name's Trevor.”
“And you lived to tell about it?” Maddie says, raising an eyebrow. “You must have superpowers or something.”
They come in the door and stand there for a moment, surveying the room, like they're lording over their domain. Trevor's eyes sweep the dining area until they settle on me. He cocks his head to the side, squints, then laughs.
Then walks toward me.
“Better run, Derek,” Bridget says. “He's gonna see the piss running down your leg.”
Derek clears his throat, but stays there.
Trevor takes in the four of us sitting at the table before settling those blue eyes on me. “New Girl. What a coincidence seeing you at my lunch spot.”
“You don't own it,” Maddie says.
“I kinda do,” he says smiling but still looking at me. “You should come eat with me. I'm way better company.”
“She can do better,” Derek says.
Trevor looks at him and the smile fades. They are about the same size, but Trevor seems bigger, like he takes up more space.
“She can do better than both of you clowns,” Gina says. “Now get lost so we can enjoy our lunch without vomiting.”
They don't move.
“I couldn't hear you,” Trevor says to Derek. “Say it again.”
Derek licks his lips, glances at us, then back to Trevor. “Not worth my time. Later, losers.” He turns and walks outside, sitting down at a table with his buddies.
Trevor laughs. “Thought so.” He looks at me. “Come on. Come have lunch with me.”
“I'm good,” I say.
“I'm sure you are,” he says, grinning.
“I'm good that way, too, but I meant I'm good here,” I say. “With my friends. Not interested.”
He leans in closer, his nose nearly on mine. I can't help but lean back. He smells like wax and shampoo and he is so damn good looking it hurts.
“I don't take no for an answer,” he whispers.
I don't say anything because my stomach is twisting itself into a pretzel.
“But it's your first day,” he says. “So I'll give you a pass. Today.” He smiles and shows me those perfect teeth. “Not next time, though.” He stands, turns and walks back to his friends, who've cut into the front of the line.
Gina leans across the table. “How do you know Trevor Robinson?”
“I don't really know him,” I say. “He came up to me at the beach yesterday. With his friends.”
“Of course with his friends,” Maddie says. “Brett and Jake love being his entourage.”
“Did you talk to them?” Bridget asks.
Our food arrives and everyone grabs what they ordered.
“Well, yeah,” I say, unwrapping the burger. “They came up to me. What was I supposed to do?”
“Run,” Bridget says. “Those three are batshit crazy and Trevor more than the other two combined.”
“He's smoking hot, though,” Gina says, plucking fries from the container. “I'll give him that.”
“I might give him more than that,” Maddie says.
“You did give Brett more than that,” Bridget says.
“Ancient history,” Maddie says. “That was two years ago.”
Bridget puts her hand on my arm. “I'm totally serious. Trevor is kind of nuts. He does what he wants, whenever he wants. He was arrested last summer for beating the crap out of this kid down at the beach and the only reason he didn't end up in jail was because his dad is so freaking loaded and has connections to everyone.”
“Money and looks,” Maddie says. “And a psychopath.”
I watch Trevor at the counter. He tosses cash casually on the counter and turns around.
To look at me.
I look down at my burger. “I told him I wasn't interested. They were just messing with me.” I look up and he's still staring at me, that corner of his mouth turned upward, just a flash of white teeth against that bronze skin.
“Well, you may not be interested,” Gina says, pointing a french fry at me. “But that bad boy is most definitely interested in you.”
FIVE
We eat lunch and get back to school. I get to my history class with seconds to spare and it's the same first day routine we went through in my morning classes – go over the syllabus, go over the schedule, and write some lame introductory paragraph about ourselves to turn into the teacher so she can get to know us better. I take my time with the paragraph, turn it in right before the bell rings, and head to my last class of the day.
The art studio is in a hallway I haven't been to yet and I get there just before the bell rings. I slide into the only open chair in the back of the room and I can immediately feel the girl across from me staring at me.
I look at her and smile. “Hi.”
She lifts her chin in my direction, working a piece of gum in her mouth. “Hi.”
Her long, dark hair is pulled high and tight behind her head into a pony tail that truly looks like it belongs on the back of a show horse because it's so silky and shiny. Her make up is perfect, making her green eyes seem bigger and greener than they actually are. Her skin is the color of coffee, the result of a lot of hours in the sun. She's wearing a tight, green tank top, showing off a ton of tan cleavage, and a denim skirt that barely makes it to the middle of her thighs.
She keeps staring and it's making me uncomfortable.
“I'm sorry,” I say. “Have we met yet?”
She shakes her head slowly, still working the gum. “Not yet.” Even though I'm sitting in a desk, her eyes look me up and down.
And she makes it clear she's not impressed.
“I'm Presley,” I say.
“I know,” she says. “I think everyone knows.”
She doesn't mean it in a good way.
“I'm Shanna Becker,” she says.
Shanna. I heard that name at lunch, but can't quite place it.
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
She leans across the aisle. “Do you need any help?”
“Help? With what?”
“Figuring it out.”
I'm confused. “Figuring what out?”
“Which guys are hands off,” she says, snapping off a bubble inside her mouth. “Which ones you need to back the fuck up from.”
Shanna.
Derek.
It comes back to me.
“My hands aren't on anyone,” I say, turning in my seat, away from her.
She's still leaning across the aisle and I can feel her breath on my shoulder. “Not what I hear. And I'm going to make it super clear here for you. Presley.” She says my name like it's a disease. “Derek Morgan is definitely hands off. You hear me?”
“Not interested in Derek,” I say, refusing to look at her.
“Not what I heard.”
“Then fix your ears.”
There's a pause and then she's laughing softly in my ear. “I heard you thought you were funny. But don't kid yourself. You aren't. And keep your hands off Derek, you little bitch.”
Blood flushes in my cheeks and my hands grip the edge of the desk. In the past, I would've just taken it, not said anything. I would've let her lean back and have the last word.
But it's a new school and a new year and I'm in a new place.
And I'm not the old me.
I turn and look at her. “The only little bitch I'm aware of is your boyfriend, who seems pretty into me. So I'd talk to him if I were you.” I smile. “Before I decide to
grant his wish just to piss you off.”
The bell rings and steam flows from Shanna's ears.
The teacher closes the door to the room and immediately begins yammering about what's written on the whiteboard behind her.
“I'm going to end you at this school,” Shanna whispers before she leans back in her seat. “End. You.”
I stare straight ahead.
But the middle finger on my left hand rises up, letting Shanna Becker know what I think of her threats.
SIX
Bridget texts me before the end of last period, telling me to meet her at her car and she'll give me a ride home. I'm grateful that she realizes I need a ride home before I even think about it. The first day of school has been up and down, but Bridget has definitely been an up.
I'm leaning up against her car, checking my phone, when something sounding like a jet engine roars into the lot.
I look up and see Trevor's big, black truck heading right for me, music blaring out the windows.
I jump to the side of Bridget's car as he screeches to a halt in front of me. The engine rumbles under the hood and he's leaning out the window, his elbow on the door, mirrored wraparound shades covering his eyes as he looks down at me.
“You almost hit me,” I say.
He grins. “Now why would I wanna do that, New Girl?”
“Because you're an idiot?”
Brett is in the passenger seat, leaning over, leering behind him. Jake is behind them both, rocking his head back and forth to the music.
“Need a ride, New Girl?” Trevor asks, ignoring my comment.
“Nope.”
“Come on. I'm good at rides.”
Brett and Jake both laugh.
“Looks like it,” I say. “Your buddies seem to enjoy you giving them a ride.”
Brett and Jake stop laughing.
But Trevor's grin grows.
Why is it always the arrogant ones who are so damn good looking?
“New Girl, why is it going down like this?” he says. “I was hoping we'd be friends.”
“You have a shitty way of showing it,” I tell him.
“Heard you were giving it to Shanna in art today,” he says.
My stomach knots. Why is he keeping tabs on me? And who is telling him what I'm doing?