And waited.
When Ryder pulled up on the side of the road late that afternoon, he climbed out of the car and came down to the sand to get me. I felt awful asking him to drive interstate to pick me up. I was so far away from home, but he was my only option. I didn’t have any other choice.
“What happened?” He frowned when he saw my bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. I was almost positive I had snot everywhere too. I couldn’t stop crying, but I told Ryder what I had seen and why I needed him to come and get me.
“I’m sorry, Bailey.” His voice was just above a whisper as he threw an arm around my shoulder. He sat with me on the beach and let me cry until my throat was hoarse and my tears ran out.
Chapter Three
My holidays sucked. Instead of being on a road trip with my boyfriend and best friend, who I’d heard from Indie were now officially together, I spent every day lying on my bed listening to heavy metal music as loud as I could.
I made it through the first week by avoiding people, mainly my mother and Ryder. I couldn’t face him after that uncomfortable ride home. Since no one else was talking to me, avoiding people was pretty easy. Even Indie had stopped calling and texting after she’d told me about Chace and Christina being in a relationship.
Seriously, you would think that I had done something wrong, that I was the one who’d betrayed my boyfriend and best friend, not the other way around. I was sick of my mother asking if I was okay or if I wanted to talk about it. No, I wasn’t okay. My first boyfriend had broken up with me and got with my first ever best friend only weeks later. You don’t get over that quickly.
I knew she meant well and was concerned about me, but I just wanted to wallow in my grief and self-pity. I didn’t want to go shopping. I hated shopping. I only ever went shopping because Christina loved it. I didn’t want to go to the beach because, you know, that’s where it’d happened. I didn’t want to have mother-daughter game nights, bonding sessions, craft time, yoga classes, or meditation sessions. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to eat my body weight in ice cream and peanut butter.
I knew it was wrong, but I ignored Ryder whenever he texted or called. I told him I appreciated the ride home, but I just needed to be alone for a while to get my head together. He understood that, though he still tried to contact me. He was great about the whole thing, which made me even more curious about what he was up to.
About two weeks after the road trip from hell, I was lying on my bed alone blaring loud, angry rock music through my stereo with a jar of peanut butter resting on my stomach. It had become quite a regular occurrence in the solitary life of Bailey Mitchell. So typical, in fact, it seemed my mother had finally got so “sick of hearing that trash every day and night,” as well as buying me copious amounts of peanut butter and ice cream, that she decided to put a stop to it.
“That’s it, Bailey. I’ve had enough. I know you’re hurting, sweetheart. I do. But moping around listening to this crap and eating junk isn’t doing anyone any good. Particularly you. You need to snap out of it. Contact Chace and get some answers. Get some closure and move on,” she said, storming through my door in a bathrobe with a towel wrapped around her hair. I started to protest as she went to switch off my music, but she held up a finger to stop me.
“You’re a beautiful, fun, friendly girl. You don’t need them. What they did was cruel. They apparently wanted to see you get hurt; otherwise, they wouldn’t have done it. They’re not worth your tears. You are so much better than they are. Sweetheart, you’re in a funk, and you need to get out of it. Show them you don’t need them, that you are better than them.” She grabbed the jar of peanut butter, and just as quickly as she had entered my room, she left—without letting me speak.
She was right. I knew she was. I was in a funk and needed to snap out of it. But it didn’t make it hurt any less. I was almost eighteen, and this was my summer holiday before my final year. I should have been enjoying myself, having fun, partying with my friends—if I had any—and not locking myself away in my room.
Had Ryder been right a couple of weeks ago? Just like him, my mother said I needed to show them I didn’t need them. Because I didn’t. Who needed toxic people like that? Toxic was exactly what they were, and I didn’t need them. I was better than that. They would be the ones alone and miserable. Not me!
After my mother’s outburst and giving myself a little pep talk, I knew what I had to do. It was going to be a challenge, but by the new school year, I would be over Chace Stephens. I would be happy. I would be better than ever. I could do it.
But first, I needed the truth. Shaking, I reached for my phone, hardly believing I was going to do it, but it was necessary for me to get closure and move on.
I sent a text to Chace.
Me: Chace, I need the truth. Why did u break up with me? No BS, just b honest pls. U owe me that much.
I didn’t want to be one of those bitter girls who pined over their exes forever, so I pressed send before I had a chance to chicken out. I didn’t expect him to reply because he was having fun with his new girlfriend on their summer holiday, so I was surprised when my phone beeped almost immediately after I sent the text. Was he sitting on his phone?
Chace’s response made my stomach drop.
Chace: B…U don’t want the truth.
I saw red. He knew I hated that. Nothing pissed me off more than being called “B.” It wasn’t a name. It was a freaking letter. Call me Bailey or Mitchell. They are names, and they are mine. Not B.
Me: Don’t call me B…u know I hate that. I want the truth.
I replied and waited with bated breath for his response.
You stupid, arrogant jerk. I didn’t text that, but I wanted to. Was he always like that?
My phone buzzed with another text message. I felt sick. Did I want to know the truth? Did I want to know why he did what he did? Why he chose Christina over me? I opened the text and took a deep breath.
Chace: Fine. At first, we were great then I realised u were boring n predictable n awkward n u don’t fit in with any of us. Hanging around Christina showed me that u 2 are so different. She knows how 2 have fun n take risks n u don’t. I wanted her for a while but she said no, not while I was with u. Oh, n the sex wasn’t that good either, sry.