Kendall Avery is coming out of a restaurant with her family, just across the street.
Her parents look like they just stepped out of an L.L.Bean catalog, all fleece vests and worn, clean boots. Two little kids with the same red hair as Kendall play tag around a statue of a bear, giggling. Kendall herself stares down at her phone, looking bored and sour.
My feet feel glued to the spot. It doesn’t look like she’s seen me—seen us—but I can’t be sure. What if she snapped a picture of Aiden with his arm around my waist and is posting it on Instagram right now? What if she’s texting everyone in the drama department? What if she’s calling the principal, or the cops?
A moment later she looks up, and her eyes widen. I let out a heavy breath. It’s obvious she’s just noticed me for the first time.
I realize I should move away from the bookstore—that I should put as much distance between myself and Aiden as possible. So I head up the sidewalk to meet her.
“Hey,” I say.
She just stares. “What are you doing here?”
“Visiting the beach.” I gesture in the direction of the pounding surf.
“By yourself?” She glances around. For a moment I think she’s skeptical—that she suspects something is off. Then I realize she’s just being a bitch. By yourself? No friends or family? So sad.
I feign coolness, shrugging. “Yeah. Sometimes you just want some peace and quiet, you know?”
My lack of interest in taking her bait seems to disarm her. She glances at her siblings, rolling her eyes. “Tell me about it. We’re here visiting my aunt for the weekend. I’ve been stuck in a bedroom with those brats for two days now.”
“Good times,” I say. She snorts.
“Yeah. Whatever.” She glances at her parents; they’re busy trying to herd the kids into the car seats in the back of a minivan. “I could probably get away for a little while. If you wanted to go hang out or something.”
It’s an unexpected invitation. I don’t know if it’s a peace offering, or if she’s just desperate to talk to someone she’s not related to for a little while. I hesitate. I can’t ditch Aiden, obviously, but I don’t want to hurt her feelings.
“Uh . . . that’d be cool, but I have to head back to town pretty soon. I have a shift tonight.”
I can tell she doesn’t believe me. Her lips press hard together. “Okay, whatever. It was just an idea.”
She turns before I can say anything and shoves her little sister out of the way, climbing into the back of the minivan.
I stand still and watch as they pull away from the curb a few minutes later. I’m too relieved to feel guilty about the lie.
* * *
? ? ?
Aiden texts me to meet him at the car in an hour. I suppose he wants to make sure the Averys are totally gone. When I climb into the passenger seat, he’s already there, wearing a baseball cap and a pair of shades.
“That was . . .”
“Close,” I finish. “I know.”
He sighs. “We’ll have to be more careful.”
I don’t say anything. It felt so right, holding hands, holding each other without fear. How is this going to work? Where can we be together, if not here?
He reaches across the console and touches my shoulder, almost like he’s reading my mind. “Hey,” he says. “It’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.” He pauses, then takes off the sunglasses so I can see his eyes. “You’re worth the risk.”
My heart gives a lurch. It’s so easy to ignore my doubts when he touches me. When I look into those hazel eyes, the same gray-green as the foam that skims the beach.
I hesitate. Then I nod.
“We’re worth the risk,” I say.
TWENTY-ONE
Gabe
It’s Monday, just before third period, and I stand in the Lower Courtyard, bouncing on the balls of my feet. Waiting.
A soft breeze whisks stray leaves across the concrete. The only other people in the Courtyard are a couple of girls surreptitiously sharing a joint. One of them gives me a nod, gestures invitingly, but I just shake my head. Once upon a time, maybe, but now I have other things on my mind.
Finally, the door swings open. One of the girls pinches out the joint reflexively, then looks relieved when it’s only Catherine.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hey.”
She steps close to me, biting the corner of a fingernail. She looks like she hasn’t slept well; dark circles cradle her eyes, and she’s paler than usual. Her hair hangs limp around her narrow face. I haven’t seen her since Friday, but we’ve been messaging back and forth. Talking about what happened with Vivi. With Sasha.
“You okay?” she asks. She leans against a pillar, cocks her head sideways like a bird.
“Yeah. In trouble with my parents, but that’s nothing new. And . . . you know, I feel like an idiot.” I’d fallen for Sasha’s trick without a second thought. I’d been so eager to be with Catherine. I’d been careless. “But Vivi’s fine. It was just a dumb prank.”
I take a deep breath and sit down on one of the lawn chairs as the third-period bell echoes through the Courtyard. The stoner girls head inside, leaving behind the faint smell of weed and Nag Champa.
All weekend I tried to persuade my parents that Sasha is trouble—that they should press charges or issue a restraining order or at least get an alarm installed—but they wouldn’t listen to me. My mom just keeps saying to leave it alone, that Vivi’s safe and that’s all that matters. My dad can’t seem to get it through his head that I never told Sasha to pick Vivi up. “You didn’t say anything that could have led her to misunderstand?” he asked, again and again. “Maybe you weren’t paying attention.” I even told them about her breaking into the house the night of the party, but they blew it off, like it was just some dumb, petty drama.
“Gabe, seriously,” Mom finally said. “Drop it. We don’t want to make more trouble. Let’s just be grateful it’s over.”
So I gave up trying to argue with them.
For her part, Sasha’s been on her best behavior since that night. No more Snaps. No more nocturnal visits. Just a radio silence that I find almost as unnerving.
“A dumb prank?” Catherine runs her fingers nervously through her hair. “Gabe, she faked a call to the office, pretending to be your mom, so she could take your little sister. That’s not a prank, that’s . . . really messed up.” She takes a deep breath. “I’m not even sure we should be here together. If she sees us . . .”
“Has she said something to you?” I look up sharply.
She frowns a little. “No. But she’s obviously not over you. And she’s obviously unstable. Gabe, I . . . I really like you, but I can’t afford this kind of drama.”
I lick my chapped lips, frustrated.
“She’s not dumb enough to keep escalating this. She came pretty close to getting busted by the cops last Friday. Trust me, it’s over,” I say.
Catherine looks at me skeptically, but she doesn’t answer. I put my arms around her and pull her to my chest.
“We shouldn’t be doing this out in the open,” she whispers, but she doesn’t pull away.
“No one’s down here. No one’s watching.” I press my lips to hers. The kiss is soft and lingering and for a moment nothing else in the world matters.
And then something we can’t ignore permeates.
“Gabriel Jiménez, Gabriel Jiménez.” The receptionist’s nasal voice blares over the intercom, just outside the door. “Please come to the principal’s office. Gabriel Jiménez, to the principal’s office.”
For a moment I stand still, listening. My stomach does a rapid roller-coaster drop. Last time I got a message from the office it was a trick. But the principal wouldn’t page me if there wasn’t something important going on.
Catherine looks up at me, her face stark and scared. “What’s going on?”
I gently disentangle myself from her. “I’d better go see.” I tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You should go inside.” I don’t add that I’m scared to leave her alone—I don’t want to freak her out even more.
“Are you going to be okay?”