by McKayla Box
“Yeah,” I say.
“But doesn't seem like it was for you, so that's cool,” he says, smiling. He taps the screen on his phone. “Okay, think that's it.”
I realize I've been clenching my fists and I let my fingers relax. “That's it?”
He nods again. “Yep. Like I said, just wanted to cover all my bases so I can get the draft turned in tonight. Didn't mean to stalk you or anything like that.”
I smile. “I didn't think you were.”
He laughs. “You'd be surprised. Some people think that's all I do.”
“Are you going to study journalism in college?” I ask.
He nods. “Yep, that's my plan. I just like it. I like asking questions, and I like talking to people.”
“You're good at it,” I tell him.
“Am I?” His cheeks flush pink. “Uh, thanks. I appreciate that.”
“You are,” I tell him, giving him an encouraging smile. “You seem to really care. You aren't just doing it for a grade. At least it doesn't feel like you are. And you're trying to do it right.”
He looks down and stubs his toe against the boardwalk for a moment. “Oh. Well...yeah. Thanks. I try.” He looks up and starts to say something, then stops.
“What?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “Nothing. Thanks for saying that. Hey, I gotta run so I can get this done.” He starts backing away. “Thanks again, Nola.” He holds up a hand, then turns and walks toward the parking lot.
I look over at the showers. The girls look like they are about done. Dylan splashes water at Mercy and Brooke and they both jump back. Dylan cackles and the other two shake their heads.
No, I didn't leave any good friends behind in Florida, so it wasn't hard.
But if I had to leave Del Sol?
I look at the three of them now splashing one another.
Leaving Del Sol would be hard because now I have friends.
Chapter 26
“Well, fuck,” Dylan says.
It's the next day and the four of us are sitting in the courtyard at lunch. Brooke brought more pizza because her father is having his meetings all week and keeps bringing home extra food. I don't mind because the pizza is really good, even cold.
“What?” Mercy asks.
“I can't find anyone to go with tomorrow night,” Dylan says. “I've looked and looked and all of these boys are either taken or would bore me straight to tears.” She plucks a blade of grass from the lawn and stares at it. “Guess I'm going stag. Is that even a thing for girls?”
“You want me to see if Jake knows anyone?” Mercy asks. “He might.”
Dylan shakes her head. “No, it's fine. I don't want to seem desperate even when I am.” She sighs. “I'll live.”
“I can tell Nick no,” Brooke says. “You and I can go together. He won't care.”
Dylan eyes her. “You know what's weird? I totally believe that. What is it with you two?”
Brooke shrugs. “I don't know. We're just...us. But I'll tell him we're going together.”
“No,” Dylan says, shaking her head. “It's fine. Far be it from me to get in the way of your weird ass relationship.”
Brooke laughs.
“We could all ditch out dates,” I say. “All three of us. And we could just go together. The four of us.”
She tilts her head to the side. “You're gonna ditch Arch? For me?'
I nod. “Yep. I will. Just say the word.”
“Me, too,” Mercy says. “I'll tell Jake.”
“You know where I stand,” Brooke says.
Dylan looks at the three of us. “You guys. That's like the nicest thing anyone's ever offered to do for me.” She waves a hand in the air. “But I am not going to be the reason the three of you don't get sex tomorrow night. So I am refusing this offer.”
We all laugh.
“I will soldier on alone,” she says. “And probably get shit-faced drunk, too. But I'll live. And who knows? Maybe I'll find someone at the dance who realizes they've made a mistake not asking me. A girl can dream.”
We all laugh again.
“What's so funny?” Archer asks, coming up behind me. He sits down and slides in behind me, wrapping his arms around my stomach and kissing my cheek.
“You for starters,” Dylan says. “You two are like an old married couple. Never thought I'd see the day.”
“Grandpa Hays,” Nick says, standing behind Brooke, his hands shoved into the pockets of his shorts. “Gonna get him a cane soon enough.”
Archer holds up his middle finger and Nick chuckles.
“You're missing your third wheel,” Dylan says. “Where's the bonehead?”
“He's coming,” Archer says. “He'll be here in a minute.”
“I didn't even know the three of you could separate,” Dylan says. “I thought you were like that three-headed dog at the gates of hell.”
“Cerberus,” Mercy says.
“Excuse you?” Dylan says.
“That's the dog's name,” Mercy says. “Cerberus.”
“Okay, smarty pants,” Dylan says. “Thanks for clarifying that.” She looks at Archer. “Yes, I thought you three were like...whatever the hell Mercy just said.”
We all laugh again.
“There he is,” Nick says. “He's coming now.”
We all turn and look.
Aiden is walking across the courtyard. He's got on a tuxedo shirt with a blue tie and cummerbund. He's wearing board shorts, too. And he's holding a rose.
“What the fuck is he doing?” Dylan says. “He looks like he's gonna park cars. Or start a garden.”
Archer chuckles in my ear and there's something about the way he does it that he's not surprised by what we are seeing.
I twist around to try and look at him. “What?”
He lifts his chin. “You'll see.”
I turn back around just as Aiden gets to us. He runs a hand through his hair nervously. “Uh, hey guys.”
Nick is biting his lip to keep from laughing.
“What's up, dude?” Archer says. “Good to see you. You look great.”
Now Nick covers his mouth with his hand and I'm certain it's so we can't see him laughing.
“Uh...yeah,” Aiden says. “Yeah.”
“The fuck are you doing?” Dylan says. “Did you lose a bet?”
I can feel Archer's body shake behind me as he laughs.
I look at Mercy.
Her eyes are wide and she shrugs.
“Aiden, why are you wearing half a tuxedo?” Brooke asks.
Aiden looks down like he isn't sure what she's talking about, then remembers that he is actually wearing half of a tuxedo. “Oh, yeah. Right. Um. Okay, yeah.” He looks at Dylan for a long moment, then gets down on one knee. “Uh, Dylan. The dance tomorrow night.” He holds out the rose. “Do you wanna go with me? To the dance?”
She stares at him for a long time, then looks at each of us. “What the fuck is going on? Is this a joke?”
Archer is shaking, he's laughing so hard, and his face is buried into my back.
“It's, uh, not a joke,” Aiden says. “I'm totally serious. Will you go with me?”
Dylan still looks bewildered. She looks at Brooke. “Did you know about this?”
“Not a clue,” Brooke says, holding her hands up.
Dylan looks at Mercy.
“I might be more shocked than you,” Mercy says.
Dylan looks at me.
“I know nothing,” I say. I spin around to look at Archer. “Tell her.”
“I can promise you that these girls didn’t have a clue about this,” Archer says, shaking his head. “I promise.”
She still can't figure out what's happening. She looks at Aiden. “Are you fucking with me, bonehead?”
Aiden shakes his head. “No. Not at all. I'm asking you to the dance. Do you wanna go with me?”
She stares at him and her eyes narrow. “Your tie and cummerbund match my dress. No fucking way that's a coincidence.”
Aiden swallows hard and looks nervous.
Brooke twists around to look up at Nick. “Is that why you asked me about the dresses?”
Nick shrugs.
“Are you gonna answer him?” Archer says. “The kid went through all this trouble to look legit. I think he deserves an answer.”
Dylan looks at Aiden for a long few seconds.
Then she reaches out and takes the rose for him.
“This doesn't mean I'm gonna fuck you,” Dylan says. “Don't get the wrong idea. I'm not that kinda girl.” She pauses. “I mean, I am that kinda girl, but our going together doesn't mean anything.”
Aiden smiles. “That's fine. But you'll go? With me?”
She puts her nose near the rose and sniffs it, then she looks at him. “Yeah. I will go with you. Your tie already matches my dress, so why not?”
Aiden stands and flexes his biceps. Archer lets out a whoop and Nick laughs, then claps his hands.
Dylan is smiling, but still looking a little bewildered, as if she isn't entirely sure as to what just happened.
But the whole scene is sweet and endearing, and seeing how excited Aiden is makes me think this is anything but a joke to him. I saw his nervousness when he asked me about her on the beach. He likes her and this just made his year.
I am happy for him.
I am happy for all of us.
And I'm excited for the dance.
Chapter 27
“Hey,” Archer says. “I wanted to explain something to you.”
It's after school and he and I are out in the ocean, surfing. Or rather, he's surfing and I'm attempting to. But the wind has picked up a little, flattening most of the waves, so now we are sitting on our boards, bobbing up and down in the water just out beyond the break.
I push my wet hair from my face. “Okay.”
“I didn't wanna let it go, but I didn't wanna get into at the time,” he says.
“Sounds serious,” I say.
“It is,” he says.
The familiar knot takes hold in my stomach. “Okay.”
He splashes some water on top of his board, then wipes it off. “The other night. The fight with Eric.” He looks at me. “That was not about Reese.”
“You told me that.”
“Yeah, but I'm not sure you believed me,” he says. “And I'm not sure I made it clear. And I want to be clear.”
The ocean rolls underneath us.
“Eric and I haven't gotten along since we were little kids,” he says. “You know how there's just always that one kid you can't stand and no matter what, you just want nothing to do with them? That was Eric for me. Always. I don't know why, but it just always was. And he felt the same way about me. But as much as I tried to steer clear of him, he was always looking for ways to needle me. Get under my skin.” He nods. “Which you one hundred percent called the other night. You were right. That's what he was doing. And it worked.”
“Okay,” I say. “But you don't have to explain that to me. I get it. The guy's a dick. You don't get along. That's fine. I just don't want you to feel like you have to punch his face in if he says something about me. Especially if Reese is pushing him to do it.”
“But that's what I'm trying to explain,” he says. “I know Reese brought him and was pushing him to do what he did. But it really wasn't about her. I couldn’t give a shit about her.” He frowns. “I didn't even like her that much when we went out. It felt like we were just supposed to go out because we were, like, the popular kids or whatever. And then it just felt dumb and lame, so I broke up with her. She's still pissed about it. But I'm not. There is nothing there with her, I swear.”
“Okay,” I say, nodding. “I believe you.”
“I hope so,” he says. “Because it's really about him. Eric.”
“Why? I mean, I get that you don't like him and he doesn't like you. But...it feels like more than that.”
He dips his hands into the water, then pours the water over his arms. “Because he said something to me after my mom died.” He shakes his head. “And I've never gotten over that. And I won't.”
The breeze dies for a moment and the ocean calms, almost to the point of stillness. It's almost like sitting on a lake. And then several small waves rise up on my left and work their way into shore.
“What did he say?” I ask.
He dips his hands in the water again, this time bringing them to his face, like he's washing it. He folds his arms across his chest. “Was about a week after she died. Maybe two. I don't remember exactly the timeframe. But I was down here. First time I'd come down to go back in the water.” He smiles, but it’s a sad one. “Probably the longest I'd ever been out of the water in my life.” The smile fades. “But I'd come down with Nick and Aiden. I wasn't feeling it, though. So I got out and sat on the beach and just waited for them. It was fine. I was out of the house, I was with my friends, I was just taking a break from...all of the shit in my house.”
I nod. I remember that feeling. Needing a break.
“And then he shows up,” he continues. “And, fine, whatever. I see him here sometimes, but we keep our distance. I know it doesn't seem like it after what you saw, but I don't just walk around looking to kick his ass. I don't go looking for him.” He pauses. “But he came looking for me. And, you know, everyone was super awkward around me, so I was used to people not knowing what to say or whatever. Even people I wasn't friends with were coming up to me.” He looks toward the shore. “So he came up to me and didn't say anything at first.”
I wait.
“And, at first, I thought he was going to try and tell me he was sorry about her dying or some shit like that,” he says. “And it sort of pissed me off because he didn't know her and I knew he didn't really give a shit, but whatever. Like I said, a lot of people offered condolences and shit, and it was awkward, because I knew that half the time it was more for them than for me. So I just figured I'd let him say whatever he wanted to say and then send him on his way.”
The ocean rolls beneath us again, almost like we’re on an enormous rocking chair.
“But that's not what he wanted?” I ask.
His laugh is harsh. “Uh, no. Not even close. I'm sitting on the sand and then he squats down next to me. And I'm sort of just steeling myself for whatever kind of bullshit condolence he's gonna give me. And then he says 'I guess being your mother was too much for her.'”
My mouth drops open. “Shut up.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. That's what he said. I looked at him and he said 'She couldn't take it, man. Death looked better than you.'” He laughs, but there's no joy in it. “And it took me a second to process it, you know? Because it's the last thing you expect anyone to say. It's like out of a bad movie. And then he just starts laughing and I know I heard him right. And I just exploded.”
I want to hug him, but it's awkward on our boards, so I reach over and grab his hand. He grips my fingers so tightly, it’s almost painful, but I don’t flinch and I don’t pull away.
“I jumped off the sand and I caught him,” he says. “He was trying to run away, but I caught him and I just started going off on him. Nick told me later that I was crying when he got to me, but I don't even remember that part. I just started wailing on him. Nick and Aiden saw it all happen, so they came out of the water and ended up pulling me off of him. I heard later that he had broken ribs, but I don't know if that's true. It was like I sort of blacked out and lost my mind. Nick said he was sure I would've killed him if they hadn't pulled me off of him. I don't remember most of it. I just remember sitting in the sand with them afterward.”
I squeeze his hand. “I'm sorry, Archer.”
He shrugs, and his grip on my hand loosens. “Nothing to be sorry about. It's him. It's who he is. So when I saw him the other night? All of that flared up. All of it. And then when he started in on you?” He shakes his head. “There was no way I was going to listen to that.”
“I get it,” I say. “And I'm so sorry he said those things to you.”
/> “I just wanted you to know,” he says, folding his fingers into mine. “That it wasn't about Reese or about me just freaking out for no reason. That there was way more going on there than you knew.”
“I believe you,” I tell him. “You don't have to explain.”
He leans across his board and kisses me. It is a hungry, needy kiss, and I press into it, wanting to give him the love and support he needs.
But inside, I’m reeling.
Hearing all of this about his mother brings a fresh tidal wave of guilt washing through me. I can tell how much telling me that story hurts him, just having to relive it. And the last thing in the world I want to do is cause him more pain.
But now I'm afraid I'm not going to have any choice.
Chapter 28
I have to tell him.
It's later that night. Archer brought me home after we surfed and I had dinner with my grandparents. We ate a pot roast my grandma made, complete with a salad and hot, buttered rolls, but eating just felt mechanical. I answered their questions and tried to fake a sense of normalcy, but all I could think about was Archer and what I needed to tell him.
I haven't been able to stop thinking about what he told me about Eric and his mother, and it just brings everything to the forefront for me.
I've lied to him about my mother and I need to tell him that I've lied.
And I need to tell her exactly what she did.
All of it.
Because I don't want there to be any secrets between us.
I'm just afraid of how he'll react.
After dinner is done and I’ve helped clear the dishes, I do a little homework and then take a long shower. Part of me hopes the water will wash away some of the fear and anxiety I’m feeling.
But it doesn’t.
After, I stare at my reflection in the mirror as I pull a brush through my hair. If anything, the time I spent in the shower has only intensified the need I feel to share what I’ve been hiding. And I know I need to tell more than just Archer. I need to tell my friends, too. They deserve that much.
But he's the one that needs to know first, because of how he reacted to his parents not telling him about his mother's illness before she died. He's made it clear how much that hurt him, how much it angered him, and how much value he places on honesty. He made that clear to me after he found out about my dad and I know that I should've just told him then.