How the hell did I get into this position? My closest social attachment, who made each miserable day at school bearable, and responsible for an additional round of puking, patted my back. "Better chuck that all out - fuck me sideways, how do you have more left?"
Harper applied warm pressure on my lower back and gathered my hair. Large burps tore out of my mouth, followed by remnants more disgusting than my projectile release. Safe to say, my dignity was thrown out two rounds ago. The tips of my toes blurred and I drew a shaky breath.
Puking on a stranger's feet! This is beyond embarrassing.
How much I disgust him must be immeasurable.
I blushed so hard, my cheeks swelled and a pulse throbbed between my eyes. I couldn't look the poor guy in the face. Not even a jock deserved a puke pedicure.
With a drag of the back of my hand, I wiped my mouth and choked out, "I told you so. Seawater... pukies."
Her pats turned into soft rubs. "I'm sorry, Elle."
With slow breaths, I breathed until the heat that rushed through my body subsided and the weakness behind my knees dissipated. I palmed them and pushed upright, expelling a loud breath. Weakness slowed my movements and the ground blurred. Lightheadedness swayed me into Harper. "Nuh-need to sit down."
A breeze fanned my cheeks before my stomach lurched again. I expelled what was left of its contents, which she buried under sand kicks. This outburst drew gawking eyes. A couple stepped outside the hotdog stand's line and reconsidered their next meal options.
"Ignore them." Harper guided me away from the plank sidewalks' dog walkers, skateboarders, and Segway tourists. I stopped for a few breaths, attempting to ignore the chili dogs, my beloved churros, and nacho cheese smells from that nearby food stand. We sat on our towels, eying random beach departures until my normal breath returned.
"Rinse your mouth." She raccoon rummaged through her bag, passed me a water bottle, then slipped on her coverup. I took a few sips, rinsed my mouth, and spat the water.
"Very lady-like." Jake flopped down by my feet. "I don't know whether to laugh or thank you."
The only positive outcome of getting sick was it redirected him from overreacting. And the other Salesian cockroaches dispersed when my vomit splattered the scene.
I hate football players.
Torn between shoving my one exception's head into the sand and telling him to cool off in an ocean ice bath, I scowled at Jake. "Not funny. Can you avoid threatening to beat someone up for five minutes?"
"Ellie, I'll happily break any hand that's put on you." The wind lifted a few dark strands off Jake's forehead. His muscles flexed on full display as he cupped his hands behind his head and clenched his abs. "Especially if attached to that asshole Hightower."
My stomach buzzed, not from nausea but from my phone. It had to be either our parents or Alex, but waiting until Mister Fists-First calmed down outweighed a message.
Like always, I had no answer for the stubborn burning in his eyes. Harper did though, tipping her head back with a humorless laugh. "The fuck was that ape chest beating shit, Jake? Hi, by the way."
"Reynolds," he replied coolly as his eyes flicked sideways and skimmed over her appearance.
Sometimes, he took his big-brother overprotection too far. Growing up, we traded off our share of fairness complexes. Jake hated when I achieved higher grades than him. Physically, in junior high, he grew two feet, his acne cleared, his braces came out, and football called. I hadn't yet experienced the same growth spurt in the height or looks departments.
Still waiting.
Jake's eyes inspected me, the hardness in them softening. "Ellie, what happened?"
I lifted a finger at Harper. "She made me drink the whole damn ocean while paddleboarding." The words clenched my stomach, and an air bubble lodged up my throat. Thankfully, all I released was a loud burp that rivaled his friends' belching competitions.
"Paddleboarding? You're the most uncoordinated person I know." Jake tossed his head back and laughed maniacally. I glared at him since my mouth burned with acid.
"You'll be alright as long as you stay away from those Salesian tools." His eyes lifted over my head, followed by his chin. "I'm glad I found you. Not for that, but I'm going to a party tonight."
"Ugh, Jake. Really?" My glare intensified since I knew what this meant. Parties, at least the ones Jake attended, weren't a good idea but especially not now. "Right before the season starts?"
"That's right." He jingled his keys as if that was a sufficient enough answer.
I loathed taking his drunk ass home, but interrupted sleep was better than his car wrapped around a tree or driven over a seaside cliff. "Once was already tiring."
"Supposed to be a lot of hot girls to smash." How was that a justification? His eyes darkened to the color of melted dark chocolate and he smirked at Harper. "Gotta get that in before camp."
"Let me guess." Venom laced her voice. "You're the manwhore to smash them?"
Jake shrugged. "They know what they're getting into, firecracker."
The corners of his mouth curled up when she scoffed. In a shining example of how they'd never share the same airspace without me between them, they glared at each other in a silent stare-off. I rolled my eyes and finished my water bottle. Cutting them off was on my tongue when her head turned and a scoff escaped her lips. "Bros before hoes."
I groaned at the mental image. Based on the girly, vanilla smell in his car, his massive grin, and 'bro-congratulations' from his friends the night I picked him up, he'd been with a girl. Only my brother and his ridiculous good looks got away with such bullshit. "Again, chivalry is dead."
Not all of the school's player rumors were true, but thankfully Jake never brought girls home. After his last girlfriend, I avoided all details about my brother's personal life. Of course, he did nothing to refute an inaccurate 'bad boy' reputation. And girls ate it up more than me with chocolate while PMSing. Guys at school either worshiped him or ran in the opposite direction. I'd never witnessed Jake beating up someone and knew how false rumors worked, so I turned a blind eye away from Santa Cruz's rumor mill.
The craziest rumor was that Jake and Harper were a thing. Best friend and brother, how cliché.
One look at their heated glares revealed the truth: they tolerated each other, for my sake. A shared trauma experience had that effect, tethering people who wouldn't normally be friends. Why couldn't they get along? Neither was leaving my life. Harper and I went back to 'us against middle school' friends, and most days I wished I didn't know Jake. Direct insight into his mind wasn't an advantage. Nope, anticlimactic. The male teenage brain typically operated one thought at a time, with most priorities driven by hormones and ego.
Before yet another reminder surfaced of Jake exercising his charisma while I was left with the leftover DNA scraps, a familiar group of jocks approached – his teammates and friends.
"Ellie!" a loud voice called. I rolled my eyes at its owner. A tall, blonde-haired boy with broad shoulders flashed his green eyes and a dazzling, toothy smile at me that was so pristine white, it rivaled toothpaste ads.
"Kieran," Harper groaned. "What do you want, Friendzone?"
A tall, muscular body sat next to me. Kieran bumped my leg with his long, muscular equivalent and flashed his bright smile. "This is the year you go out with me, right?" His charming voice drawled and his arm slipped across my shoulders with a flash of vibrant red on his Santa Cruz varsity jacket. I couldn't tell the difference between 'Cardinal red' and regular red if my life depended on it.
"Elle." I pushed off his meaty arm. "Not a chance."
"The guys are right." Falling back, he pretended my shove pushed him over into the sand. "Jake's the more fun sibling."
"Then go spend time with him," I deadpanned.
Or anyone else. Please.
Why does he do this? Is it a game to him?
Every time I turn him down. And every time, he bounces back.
"She's right. We gotta bounce." Jake tossed me his keys, which slipped through my fingers and landed on my towel. "I'll call you. It's on Harrison Street, easy to remember."
"Lovely," I grumbled as Jake and his friends left in a herd of egos, insults, and bro fist bumps.
They left us in silence, along with Harper's disapproving look, and I shook my head. Stupid boys. The crease between her eyebrows dissolved and she smiled. "At times like this, I remember the boy who peed his pants during the seventh-grade choir concert."
Always her own perspective on things.
"Oh, come on." She scoffed with her eyes on Jake's retreat and held her hands up in bear claws. "He shouldn't do that 'rawr, don't touch my sister, rawr!' shit."
"He shouldn't, but you know why he's like that."
Heat brightened the green streaks in her eyes, turning them a light aqua color. "Pfft, knowing why he's... him doesn't make it right."
She was right; there was no excuse for angry rage no matter what its source, but I had to love that angry idiot. Anyone who witnessed what he did in our shared bathroom shower would hate him, but his shadow cast over school with that damn temper to flex his authority.
Jake couldn't control others' reactions, in particular the endless fawning, but he didn't have to engage so much. Like whatever the hell that was back there. He wasn't the hot-headed, explosive guy he projected. He was better than that. His standing up for me was commendable, but there was no excuse for charging in fists first without the full picture.
"No, it doesn't," I whispered.
"Whatever the fuck that was," she murmured. "I think it's bigger than your tiny ass."
I closed my eyes with a sigh. "I don't know who Jake threatened if that's what you're suggesting. I didn't look into his eyes or get a look at his face."
In full disclosure, I also didn't know why my body pricked with awareness as he hovered over me from behind, but it didn't matter. All Jake's rivals were the same – stacks of muscles and an aura of arrogance from being their own biggest fan. "Other than sympathy for being on the receiving end of Jake's stupid anger and mortified for puking on him, I don't care, Harper."
My plan was simple: study hard, ignore the whole student body's existence as it ignored mine, get into college, then get the hell out of Santa Cruz. Fly under the social radar, get in, get out. Easy peasy, stomach queasy. And life proceeded to my plan until today. The puking part was the... puke on the jock's toes.
A threatened headache pounded between my eyes and my voice was weak. "Can we watch the sunset in peace?"
She hummed an unconvinced sound and checked her phone. "Five minutes before the Boardwalk closes, then all the drunks and horny teenagers will be out. Which, if you want-"
"Only the sunset, Harper."
"Fine," she grumbled.
A deep breath of warm, salty air rippled waves of calm through me. A breeze tugged a few long strands around my face, which I brushed behind my ears. "This part I like about the beach."
"So exciting." Harper flopped onto her back and closed her eyes. "Watching the sunset with my best friend. Excuse me while I go drink myself to sleep."
This was so much more of my scene. Quiet. Serene. Testosterone-free. I smiled at the repetitive crashes of the white crests against the aquamarine swells. "It's relaxing."
Without Jake's brawn, I relied on my brain. And it was tired. In the silence, I wasn't forced to quip out a smart, sharp remark. The only interruption was the constant buzzes from my phone. I frowned at the beehive in my kangaroo pocket. Was it updating itself?
"Relaxing and romantic," I murmured.
"Romantic, sure." She sat up with a grunt, drew one knee to her chest, and pointed to beach couples snuggling on blankets or groping each other in combined effort strip searches. "Everyone here is making out or already pregnant."
I ignored her sassy commentary. A calm sense of quiet settled in my brain and my body stilled as if I shut down with the sunset. The louder crash of the high tide waves washed a sense of peace over me.
It won't be like last time. I feel better already. "Stop ruining my moment. I've sat like this every summer as it ends," I reminded her with a sigh.
"I know." She drummed her nails on her knee. "You say that every fucking year."
"And I mean it." Another breeze kissed my cheeks, more cool than salty, and I breathed it in. "Every fucking year."
We sat until tiny white stars nestled in a navy-blue blanket overhead. Flicks of moonlight capped the waves. As the activity slowed behind us, the same realization hit us: summer was over.
"Last year." Harper sighed with a far-off, almost awestruck gleam in her eyes. "Then we're free. Totally free."
"It won't be that bad." I laughed at her melodramatic whisper. "One more football season first, then my normal brother returns."
She snorted. "Exactly, because Jake is a model example of normal."
"He's on edge more than normal," I admitted with a sigh. "But you know what I mean."
Jake had a lot of pressure on his shoulders. While mine wasn't that the school expected a repeat division championship, I was under pressure too.
"I guess college applications start first." She gave me a wry smile. "Not that I have a clue what to study, but we can't all be thrown full scholarships like in your family."
"That's going to be Jake." Football recruiters eyed him since our sophomore year. Nonetheless, my early applications were sent off to my schools of choice. "That's why I applied for that school... thing."
"Don't sell yourself as short as you are, dear Elle. You have a good chance to be valedictorian." Her smile shifted to supportive.
Academics were the college entrance leg I stood on. The school's senior program would pad my applications. Given its vague description, 'Incoming seniors can participate in a multi-school opportunity. Upon successful program completion, students shall receive a letter of recommendation from Principal Jans,' I had no idea what it involved.
Before I answered Harper, my phone buzzed again. "What the fuck is up with your phone?" She eyed my stomach. "It's been buzzing all night, for someone who has only five contacts. Unless..."
Her suggestive voice made me shake my head. "Not what you're thinking." As I pulled my phone out, a small slip of paper fluttered out of my pocket. "Alex and I don't talk this much."
"You English Lit people should be better at phone sex," she grumbled.
Another buzz in my palm prompted her groan, but my eyes widened at twenty-seven notifications. The phone store person insisted I needed a social media account, and set one while demoing how to install apps as if I was clueless. Who were all these new followers? I didn't recognize a single name. If it was a joke from Jake at the party, then I swore-
"Is it dickhead?" Her mouth arched into a scowl. "That would be the fastest his ass got drunk at a party, even if he and Camille did break up."
My eyes shot up at that news. "For real this time?" I could count Jake's 'real' girlfriends on one hand, and Camille was the worst. My heart skipped at the idea they were done-done. Jake was miserable, until about two weeks ago.
"Not sure if I should be happy about tits-for-brains dumping your brother." Harper sighed as she shut my theory down. "Or feel sorry for you, Elle."
"Me? Why?"
"If you want to fight off the football groupie sluts this year, be my guest."
As usual, she was right. The extent to which girls targeted Jake's attention was ridiculous. I gained false friends, who dropped me as if I carried a contagious disease once they realized he never listened to me. If he valued my opinion, then he would study harder to ensure a backup plan for football.
"If he's banging some rebound flavor of the week who thinks she's special in the back of your car, then he's probably done by now. Might wanna Lysol and Febreeze that shit."
"Harper." I rolled my eyes. "I don't want to think about Jake like that."
She pretended to shudder, her eyes gleaming. "Thinking about your brother in any way drives me to celibacy."
For someone who didn't want to think about him, she talked about him a lot. Before I teased her, my phone buzzed again. It had to be updating its barebones state. There was a lot of setup shit with a new phone and I hadn't had a chance to add in much. But my phone buzzed again and again and again. "What the hell?" Thirty-five new followers and I sure as hell didn't know thirty-five people. "Think it's broken?"
"Maybe it has a virus?"
I chewed my lip and frowned. "How the hell would my phone get a virus?"
"That's right, I forgot. You use yours for, what exactly? A coaster? Vibrator?"
"Emergencies and transportation," I clarified with a frown.
"Nuh-uh." Her head shook, flipping her blonde locks - how were hers not ratty like mine? - over her shoulders. "Transporting Jake's drunk ass isn't an emergency."
"Better than him getting into an accident." My eyebrows drew tighter. I recognized none of these contacts. Was it a joke? Had Jake passed my number around at the party?
An unsettled feeling crept into my stomach as I picked up the piece of paper. A phone number was scribbled next to a note. How was this in my pocket? "Harper, what do you make of this?"
"You sure know how to make an impression," she read with furrowed eyebrows. "With a number. That's weird as fuck. Did you find it on the beach?"
"It was in my pocket." I slipped my hands inside, fished around, and came up empty. "You don't think it was one of those Salesian guys, do you?"
"Better not be." She tipped her head back and laughed, before giving me a devious smile. It widened when her fingers were on her phone. "Good thing you have my lack of boundaries because there's only one way to find out."
The prick of 'this is not a good idea' warnings tingled the skin on the back of my neck. "What are you doing?" My steady pulse increased the more her thumbs worked over her screen. Why did she always act first and think second? "Let's think about this first."
"I'm texting that number. I bet it's your first new follower," she responded without a blink. "Besides, don't you want to know how he found you online? Or what he looks like? Paper lips or double-stacked pillows? If he's packing a bazooka or a hotdog?"
And there she goes in that direction. It's like she falls into a hole.
"Oh, Gawd." I rubbed my forehead. "I don't care what he looks like. And, for fuck's sake, no dick pics. How are you so comfortable contacting a stranger?"
"Wouldn't be the strangest conversation I've had," she murmured. "Trust me, I'm running interference for you. I swear if it's that Hotdog Hip-thruster, I'll make sure he never bothers you again."
"Huh" I took the note back. It was creased from being balled up, with scratched handwriting like it was written in haste.
You sure know how to make an impression.
No name, theirs or mine. Either extremely sweet, sarcastic, or creepy as fuck. The phone number had our area code, but I didn't recognize the rest of it.
"No response. I sent some of my best dick threats." With her phone up to her ear, she mouthed, "Ringing."
The way my heart pounded harder in the seconds we waited, it wanted to leap out of my chest. How was she so calm? Her only reaction was a slight purse of her lips.
"Voicemail." Harper hung up, then gave my phone a wary look. "Couldn't be Jake, could it?"
"I don't know." I shrugged. "We could call him."
Within the first ring, she reached him all right. Her expression morphed to complete disgust. "Jake, if you're having sex in your car again, then I hope for Elle's sake you spray Lysol and Febreeze before we pick it up."
One of my hands clamped over my mouth. Her light blue eyes flashed and her voice hardened with sarcasm, "No. No. Fuck no! I'd rather give myself a lobotomy with a battery-dead dildo. Go pass your drunk ass out in a ditch somewhere, or better yet, in front of the nearest In-N-Out drive-thru."
My stomach twitched at her mentioning the best fast-food burgers ever. It was probably settled down, but I wasn't going to risk ruining the place for me. What would the worst food be to throw up? Blueberries. I bet it's that.
Murder blazed in Harper's eyes. "Listen, dick for brains. Are you or any of your shitty friends playing a joke on Elle? Her phone's blowing up here. Hmm... right."
Not Jake's fault.
She twisted her lips to one side. "Is it one of your dickhead friends?" Her eyes narrowed. "And by a friend, I mean Meade. No, I don't want to talk to him. Huh. Right. Okay, stop talking. Remember, community service. Wrap it before you tap it." Harper hung up with a huff and shook her head. With her chin dipped down, I couldn't read her expression as she studied her phone.
I turned my phone in my hand, frowning at some girls now following me. "That's a new low for Kieran if he did."
"I didn't get anywhere, but why don't you call the number?" Harper suggested.
"Alright." Unlike her attempt, mine was answered. Technically, it was picked up by light breathing, so I prompted, "Hello? I know you're there, breathing, whoever you are."
Silence greeted me, then a low-toned voice chuckled. "Baby, I hope you haven't forgotten me already."
"Huh?" I grunted and sat upright. "Who is this?"
The voice repeated the line while I gawked at Harper. Except for low and laced with confidence, it didn't sound like Jake's voice or one of his friends. No one dared to speak suggestively to me without fear of him rearranging their intestines.
My throat dried as if I swallowed half the beach's sand. It strained my voice thin and weak, "Whoever you are, stop pushing my buttons."
"You're lucky you're cute," the calm male voice continued. His low husk permeated testosterone into my brain. "But don't worry, baby. You can push all my buttons."
"Unless one of those buttons is an off-switch, no thanks." I frowned at Harper's curious smile. "Who the hell is this!?"
He dismissed me with another passive response, "Someone who wants to see you again."
Again. The word burned into my brain. Again.
He was one of the Salesian jerks.
"Baby, the question you should ask is how are my feet?"
I sucked in my next breath with a squeak. He was, specifically... oh no. Oh gosh no. Not him. This was horrific. Awful. I would not live this down. Bury me in the sand and let the crabs pick me to pieces.
Heat rushed into my cheeks and I cupped my hand over my mouth. I shook my head on repeat at Harper, and my mouth opened and closed with a response. What could I say?
"Oh, gosh. I'm so sorry."
"Good. I was afraid I'd rendered you speechless," his voice dripped with arrogance and self-assurance. While confidence was attractive, this jerk was a total, stomach-flipping turn-off. "I have that effect on girls."
My apology was ruined. Was he serious?
"And don't be sorry," Mystery Perv mused a few tones lower. "Make it up to me, baby."
I cringed at the word 'baby.' Hearing it was worse than fingernails on a chalkboard. Make it up? While our encounter slotted itself up to the most embarrassing moment of my seventeen years, he should've run for the hills with the rest of his herd. Why was he contacting me?
Doesn't matter. Time to shut his cocky ass down.
"Stop calling me baby!" My eyes squeezed so tight, tiny white spots burst into the blackness. "Look, I don't know who you are, but I swear if I ever see you-"
"Wish granted." His low chuckle hummed in my ear. His first normal voice. Deep and rich, it sounded pleasant, until he said, "I'm right behind you."
Oof. Maybe he'll be sweet in-person?🤔
Thank you SO much for the reads! Next chapter will be up later tonight! And please check out my IG and TT because there's lots of hints on future chapters dropped. (wp_still_just_me).