Winter: A High School Bully Romance (Sunset Beach High Book 2)

by McKayla Box

  “I heard her dad lost his job up there,” Maddie says. “That's why they came back.”

  “Great,” I say, looking at my food, but no longer feeling hungry.

  “Don't worry,” Bridget says, putting her hand on my thigh. “It's gonna be fine. Bitches are being bitches. You know that. Trevor's into you.”

  I really hope she's right.

  SEVENTEEN

  I don't see Trevor at school the rest of the day. Bridget drives me by the beach after school, but his truck isn't in the lot. She offers to take me by his house, but I pass, telling her I'll figure it out later.

  After I get home, I knock out my homework and wait for my dad to get home for dinner. Except he calls and says he's going to be at the office late and to eat without him. I make a sandwich, stare at my phone, and then decide to hop on my bike and head to Trevor's house.

  I've been stewing over the whole thing all day. I'm still mad that he felt like he couldn't tell me the truth, but I'm trying to understand why he felt that way. I'm not sure here's anything he could've told me about Athena that wouldn't have made me mad. I just wish that he would've trusted me to not freak out.

  As I ride toward his house, the wind blowing in my face, I realize that I'm being slightly hypocritical. I want him to trust me, but I'm not offering him the same thing. I've already started jumping to conclusions without really knowing anything. I'm asking for something that I'm not even giving him and that's not cool.

  I pull into his driveway and park my bike next to Trevor's motorcycle. His truck is at the furthest end of the crescent shaped drive, right in front of his dad's Land Rover. There's a white BMW convertible parked behind the Land Rover that I don't recognize. I run a hand through my wind blown hair as I walk to the door, trying to make myself look a little more presentable.

  Mr. Robinson answers the door, a beer in his hand, smiling. “Presley. So nice to see you. It's been a few days. Come on in.”

  I step into the foyer and he closes the door behind me. I hear voices out in the living, but don't see anyone.

  “I've got a few friends over,” he says. “Business and pleasure, I suppose. How are you?”

  “I'm alright,” I say. “Is Trevor home?”

  “Yep, he's downstairs,” he tells me. “Just got a text from your dad. Sounds like he's at the office still?”

  I nod.

  “I guess I'm working him too much,” he says. “Sorry about that. He should be home for dinner with you.”

  “It's okay,” I say. “He's busy.”

  Mr. Robinson takes a quick sip from the beer. “How's school? Trevor never tells me anything.”

  “It's good,” I say, because I'm not sure what else to tell him.

  “Classes are fine?”

  “Yeah, more or less.”

  “Have you figured out yet where you're applying for next year?”

  “I've sent in my applications,” I say. “We'll see where I get in.”

  “Trevor's been dragging his heels,” he says. “You probably knew that, though.”

  I don't know that because we've barely talked about it.

  A woman comes up the short steps from the living room, a wine glass in her hand. She has silky blonde hair and is wearing a red romper that should look ridiculous on her, but actually looks terrific. “Frank, what are...oh, I'm sorry. I didn't meant to interrupt.”

  “You're not interrupting,” he says, gesturing for her to come over to us. “I want you to meet someone.”

  She smiles and her red stiletto heels click against the tile.

  “Jennifer, this is Presley,” he says. “She's Trevor's friend. “Presley, Jennifer.”

  She shifts the wine glass to her left hand to shake my hand. “A pleasure, Presley.”

  “Nice to meet you,” I say.

  “I've known Jennifer for over a decade,” Mr. Robinson says. “Her husband, Tom, and I used to work together. Then he thought he was too good for me and went off on his own.”

  He and Jennifer laugh at the joke I don't really get.

  “And now he's come crawling back,” Jennifer says, smiling. She looks at me. “We're just kidding. My husband and Frank have been friends for years and they can't seem to resist the opportunity to work together when it arises. We've just moved back to Sunset Beach.”

  I'm not sure what to say. It feels like one of those adult conversations that I've been included in out of politeness rather than necessity. “Oh. That's nice.”

  “We love Sunset,” she says. “It's very nice to be back. Have you lived here long, Presley?”

  “No, just since the summer,” I answer. “I moved here from Virginia with my dad.”

  “Her father is Stephen Baxter,” he says. “Who I was just telling you about.” He looks at me. “I was complimenting your dad and all the work he's been doing for me.”

  “It sounds like he's been a life saver,” Jennifer says.

  “I hope so,” I say, again not knowing what to say.

  “Presley was just telling me that he's back at his office,” Mr. Robinson says. “I need to message him and tell him to knock off for the night.”

  “He likes working,” I say. “And he might not leave even if you tell him to.”

  They both laugh at that.

  “You're going to Sunset Beach High, I assume?” Jennifer asks.

  I nod.

  “Lovely,” she says. “My daughter is as well. She was extremely nervous about moving back here. Hard to leave friends, then try and rejoin them.” She smiles. “Maybe the two of you can bond a bit over being new here in different ways.”

  “Sure,” I say.

  “She's downstairs with Trevor,” Mr. Robinson says patting my shoulder. “And I think we've kept you long enough.”

  “Oh, yes,” Jennifer says. “It's a pleasure to meet you. And I'm sure Athena will feel likewise.”

  Hearing that name is like taking a hammer to face. “Athena?”

  “My daughter,” she says. “And she'll be thrilled to meet someone else who is new to Sunset for their senior year.”

  I look down the stairs that lead to Trevor's room.

  I doubt very much that Athena Atkins will be thrilled to see me.

  And the feeling is mutual.

  EIGHTEEN

  She is sitting on the edge of his bed. Her back is to me. Trevor is on the floor in front of her, facing her, leaning back on his hands. There's at least six feet of space between them.

  Which is more than I imagined in my head as I walked down the stairs to his room.

  He looks up when he sees me in the doorway and looks surprised. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  Athena twists around from her spot on the bed. Anger flashes through her expression for a moment, but it's quickly replaced by a big smile. “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged.”

  “Shut up, Athena,” Trevor says.

  I try to focus on the fact that he's telling her to shut up and not the fact that he's sitting in his room with her.

  Alone.

  “I'm not really into threesomes,” she says, ignoring him. “And if I was, I'd be into someone who...didn't look like you.”

  “Her parents came over,” Trevor says, standing up. “She came with them. I didn't know she was coming.”

  “You have to defend yourself to her?” Athena says, laying back on his bed. “That's pretty sad.”

  He frowns at her. “Would you shut up?”

  She grins at him.

  He looks at me. “What are you doing here?”

  “I don't even know,” I tell him, because it feels like the closest thing to the truth I can give him. “We didn't talk all day and I wanted to talk to you. But I think this was a bad idea.”

  “Coming over here?”

  “Everything,” I say. “Everything.”

  Athena points a finger at me. “Smart girl.”

  It takes everything I have to not rip that finger off and shove it down her throat.

  “Ignore her,” he
says. “She's just...doing her thing. I'm not interested.” He looks at Athena. “I'm not interested.”

  “Oh, Trev,” she purrs. “You just need to be reminded of what you've been missing. You don't have to replace the varsity with the JV anymore.” She glances at me, then back to him. “The varsity is back and ready to play.”

  “Get out,” Trevor says to her.

  “Come on,” she says. “You don't really want me to go upstairs, crying my eyes out, and then explain to my parents...and your father...that you were rude to me. Do you?”

  It catches him off guard and he doesn't respond.

  “I'll go,” I say. “I shouldn't have come anyway.”

  “Right about that one,” she says, then giggles. “Keep it in mind for future visits.”

  The anger is bubbling up in my gut. I hate the way she looks, the way she talks, and the way she's laying there. On his bed. And I hate knowing she's been in it before. It all is making me sick to my stomach. And I know it's not going away. She's here to stay and there's nothing I can do about it. I understand that her father may have some business with Trevor's, but it still angers me that she's sitting here in his room with him. I wanted him to refuse to sit there with her or talk to his dad about it.

  But he clearly hasn't done either of those things.

  “Did you tell her we're having dinner this weekend?” Athena says, looking at Trevor.

  He glares at her.

  I hold my hands up. “I don't wanna know. I'm out.” I turn and walk out of the room.

  He catches me at the bottom of the stairs, his hand grabbing at my elbow. “Wait.”

  I pull my arm out of his grasp. “I don't wanna do this. I don't have the energy for this.”

  “Energy for what?” he says. “There's nothing going on here.”

  “But, yet, you're sitting in your room with her,” I say.

  “Because she came over with her parents,” he says. “Her dad does business with my dad. What am I supposed to do with that?”

  “Keep her out of your room, maybe?” I say. “Maybe let her know that you aren't interested in talking to her anymore? Those would be good places to start.”

  “It's not that easy,” he says. “Come on. Don't be like this.”

  “All I'm hearing is that you have unfinished business with your ex,” I tell him. “And I don't have time for that bullshit. I'm not the girl who's going to sit around and wait for you to make up your mind.”

  “I already made up my mind,” he says. “And it's you. You know that.”

  “I don't know anything except that bitch is sitting on your bed,” I tell him. “And until that stops happening, I'm out.”

  I turn and head up the stairs.

  “You are being a fucking baby,” he says when I'm halfway up. “A serious fucking baby.”

  The way he says it just ignites the anger I'm feeling. I wheel around. “The fucking baby is in your room, whining because she broke up with you and can't have you back. Except apparently your ego likes hearing that. So I don't think it's me that's the fucking baby.”

  He makes a face like he's eaten something sour. “So what do you want?” He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. “Should I go back in there and do her? Just so then you'll be right about everything? Is that what you want?” He shrugs. “I can go do that if you want.”

  “You're an asshole,” I say. “A serious fucking asshole.” I turn and continue up the stairs.

  “You didn't tell me what to do, Pres,” he says. “I guess I'll have to decide on my own.”

  “Yeah, you fucking do that,” I say, storming to the top of the stairs. I wheel around. “You go ahead and stick your limp dick in Athena's diseased vaj. With any luck, it'll fall off inside her and you'll be together forever.”

  “Presley!”

  I freeze and turn toward the voice.

  Frank Robinson is standing there in the entry way. Jennifer Atkins is next to him and there's another man next to her. Based on the stunned looks on their faces, they've clearly heard what I had to say.

  Trevor has a hand over his mouth, covering what I know is a smile.

  “Is...is everything alright?” Mr. Robinson asks.

  My face feels like it's on fire and all I want is to get out of the Robinson house.

  “No,” I tell him. “And I have to go.”

  I turn and stride over to the door, practically running through it and away from Trevor Robinson's home.

  NINETEEN

  I ride home, fueled by anger and tears.

  I'm covered in sweat by the time I get there. I throw my in the garage – literally, throw it – and head into the house. I take a long shower, crying out my frustration under the water until all the hot water is gone and the temperature goes lukewarm. I dry off, pull on a T-shirt, and sweats, and take longer than normal to brush through my hair.

  I know that I am jealous, but I also don't know the truth. I'm not sure if I'm being unfair or if Trevor's just jerking me around. I know that I don't want to be jerked around, even by the one guy that I know I love. I'm not going to be a part of some shitshow soap opera. I need more from him, but I don't know how to get it.

  But I also don't want to be the crazy, possessive girlfriend, either. I don't want to be the girl who freaks any time he looks at a girl, much less talks to one. I want to be secure in our relationship, to trust him and how he says he feels about me. That's hard to do, though, when his ex is lying on his bed, basically begging him to fuck her.

  I hear the front door open. I drop my brush on my bed and head to the living room, grateful not to be home alone any longer.

  “Hey,” my dad says when I come out of the hallway. “What's going on?”

  I shake my head and plop down on the sofa. “Not much. You look tired.”

  He gives me a half laugh and sits down on the other end of the couch. “An understatement. You get some dinner?”

  “I made a sandwich.”

  He wrinkles his nose. “I'm sorry. I really did plan on being home tonight.”

  “It's okay,” I tell him. “Maybe tomorrow.”

  He hesitates, then nods. “Yeah, hopefully.” He reaches out and pats my barefoot. “How was your day?”

  “Okay,” I say.

  “I want more than okay,” he says. “Give me some details. I feel like we're barely talking these days.” He holds up a hand. “And I know that's my fault because I'm never home.”

  I spend a few minutes telling him about my classes, about what I ate for lunch, and about how Bridget and I stop for coffee every morning on our way to school. I know those are the things he's looking for so he can picture what my day's like.

  “You surf after school today?” he asks.

  I shake my head.

  “Go to Trevor's?”

  I hesitate, then nod. “Yeah, for a little bit.”

  He raises an eyebrow.

  “What?” I ask.

  “What what?” he says. “You don't seem so sure about that part. Something happen with you two?”

  I shrug. “It's a long story and probably just dumb.”

  “Frank texted me,” he says.

  I sigh. “I should've known.”

  “I'll ask again,” he says. “Is everything okay?”

  “We had a fight,” I tell him. “There was yelling. Mostly by me.”

  “Ah, okay,” he says. “I can listen if you want?”

  I shake my head. “No. It'll be fine. Tell me about your day. What do you do all day?”

  He laughs again. “Not sure where to start. I'm on the phone. I'm on the computer. I'm drafting contracts. I'm skipping lunch. And dinner.”

  “You want me to make you something?” I say. “You can't not eat.”

  “I'll get something,” he says. “In a minute.” He rubs at his chin. “And I'm just...trying to work out problems all day long.”

  “Problems?”

  He takes a deep breath, then exhales. “Lots of contract stuff. That's normal. That's sort of what I do, I g
uess. I find the issues in contracts, then try to come up with solutions.” He rubs at his chin again. “It's just that here, there's a lot more going on. A lot more problems. And I feel like I'm not coming up with the right solutions.” He waves a hand in the air. “But I'm now I'm just complaining. I'll get it figured out.”

  I feel like there's more to it, that he's keeping something back. “Are you okay, Dad?”

  He nods. “I am, Pres. I am. I'll figure it out. I always do.” He points at me. “Are you okay? Because I'm getting some vibes here that maybe things aren't peachy keen.”

  I want to unload on him. I've always been able to talk to him, ever since I was little. After the divorce, we had lots of long, intense conversations. He always listens to me and he never judges. He never makes me feel dumb. He's an excellent listener and I know that most of friends can't say the same thing about their parents. So I want to tell him everything about Trevor and Athena and Shanna and Derek and really let him know what school's been like. Because I know he'll have advice for me or be able to point out something that I'm missing.

  But I also know that will add to his list of things to worry about and that is the last thing in the world I want to do to him.

  I smile at him. “I am okay.”

  TWENTY

  “I don't have a dentist appointment,” I say.

  It's the next day and I'm in math class, my second period of the day. A student runner showed up in my class, handed a blue slip to my teacher, who then called me up, and handed it to me.

  “Well, this says you do,” he says. “Maybe go down to the office and get it sorted out. This says I'm supposed to release you right now for a dentist appointment.”

  I look at the slip. I've seen them before. People get them all the time when they have to leave school.

  Except my dad said nothing about taking me to the dentist.

  But my name's on the slip and the teacher is shrugging, telling me to go figure it out.

  I sigh, walk back to my desk, gather up my stuff, and head to the office.

  When I turn the corner that leads to the admin offices, Trevor is standing there.

  “What the hell?” I say.