Shy Girl

by Katie Cross

  She stood a hand’s breadth away. She didn't touch me, but she might as well have. Something like the cold kiss of death filled the space between us.

  “Hey,” I muttered.

  Anthony motioned for her to go in first. She obliged, but not before dragging me in with her, our fingers interlocked. When I tried to pull away, she squeezed and held on tighter. Anthony followed us into the elevator, and Victoria's arm slipped through mine.

  “So good to see you again, Jayson,” she said brightly. “It's like fate just keeps putting us in each other's paths. I can't believe we're about to do this today. Best Man and Maid of Honor? It's like we were meant to be together on an aisle. Maybe this won't be the only one.”

  That cloying tone had returned to her voice again, the one that set me on edge. Whatever she said in that tone before she hadn't meant, because it was the same tone that drew me in in the first place. But I still hesitated in pulling away.

  And why?

  The question ran through my head, stalling my withdrawal. Stunned by the speed in which she'd shown up and taken command of my thoughts, I just stood there for a moment and said nothing. Anthony glanced at us from the corner of his eye, but kept his head forward.

  “Aren't you supposed to be getting pedicures right now?” Anthony asked.

  Yes! I almost cried. Pedicures. Thank you.

  Victoria smiled, her arm tightening around mine. “Yes, I just forgot something in my room and am zipping up really quick.”

  He gave a kind smile, but his gaze lingered on our arms. Victoria closed the distance between us. I would have stepped away, but that move would have pushed me right into Anthony. Dagny had stumbled all over him enough for both of us. Besides, explaining this odd situation would be even worse, so I gritted my teeth as the elevator slipped higher.

  How much longer would we stand here?

  There weren't that many floors.

  This was a small eternity.

  “So, Jayson,” Victoria said quietly, but with ample strength for Anthony to hear every word. “Tonight, after the festivities have died down, can we meet up in your bungalow again? I'd like to finish our conversation about where our relationship is heading now that we're here together.”

  The elevator dinged open and Anthony stepped out with a bland smile and a little bow at the waist. His gaze lingered on mine with something like a statement in it. By the time he got into the hallway, he'd pulled his phone out of a pocket and dialed. Even he seemed ready to get away from her, his daughter’s best friend. I watched him go with a helpless sense of jealousy as the doors slid shut again to take me up four more stories.

  “No,” I finally said.

  Her eyes widened. “You're going to play this hard to get?”

  “This isn't a game, Victoria. I'm here with Dagny. You and I aren't good for each other. Not even a little.”

  She frowned. “That can't be true.”

  “I disagree.”

  The door dinged again and I stepped out. She followed, then grabbed my arm and jerked me around to face her as the door slid shut. No one waited in the lobby as her fiery eyes met mine.

  “This is not over,” she hissed. “We have only just begun. Our story has just begun. Yes, it hit a rough patch, but all the good ones do. You have to believe that, Jayson. I choose to believe that.”

  I paused to study her. Beneath the lines of makeup around her eyes lingered redness. Lack of sleep, maybe? Heavy bags under her eyes, for sure. The bare tone of her voice made her seem stressed or desperate. Dagny, who seemed so bright and fresh and determinedly real, felt like a ocean breeze in comparison to the haggard girl hiding beneath all this fake sparkle.

  That's when I knew why I hesitated: because I needed closure. Needed to know for certain that Victoria was the woman I thought.

  My tone softened slightly.

  “Victoria, for a long time, I was sorry, very sorry that you didn't choose me. And I'm sorry that you regret it now. But it won't happen again. Nothing more will happen between us.”

  Her cold fingers closed around my neck and jerked me down. She laid her lips over mine, attempting to kiss me with passion. Although I wanted to pull away, a part of me wondered.

  Was this true?

  Had the passion I'd felt at first with Victoria been real?

  She pulled away, her breath hitched. Her eyes were inches from mine. “You can't tell me that's not real,” she whispered huskily.

  I stopped, paused, then pressed one more kiss to her soft lips. They weren't as full as Dagny's. The lipstick left a strange texture, and they weren't welcoming, even though she tried hard to deepen it. I pulled away and waited.

  Nothing.

  No connection. No sense of vulnerability or adorable uncertainty or even genuine curiosity.

  “Sorry,” I said quietly. “You're just not the one for me.”

  I turned and strode down the hall, toward the suite at the end where Grady and my friends waited. My shoes echoed dully as I walked and wiped any remnants of lipstick off my face.

  “Jayson!” Victoria cried, her voice shrill. “Stop this madness or you'll never get me back.”

  I held up a hand as a last gesture of farewell. My card swiped across the door handle and a bright green light illuminated the space above it.

  “Jayson!” she snapped. “I'm serious. There will not be a third chance!”

  The hotel room door closed behind me.

  Dagny cluttered my thoughts as I strode into Grady's room.

  Grady stood near a sideboard of drinks, pouring something into a glass of ice cubes. I clapped a hand on his shoulder and smiled wide as I passed.

  “How are you, brother?”

  Grady's expression didn't waver. Behind him waited a storm cloud. Bastian and Vik sat on a couch near an open set of double doors that overlooked the sand. Vik had a hot glower on his face. Bastian looked out the French doors, where bright sunshine spilled into the room with blinding force.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  Bastian drew a finger across his neck, then motioned to Vik with a tilt of his head. Vik scowled at me.

  “Shut up, Hernadez,” he muttered.

  “I didn't say anything.”

  His frown deepened. “But you're about to, I can tell.”

  “You're not wrong.” I grabbed Grady's shoulder, then shoved him into the couch. “Have a seat, groom.” Then I tossed a remote to Bastian. “Pull up the TV, will you? Turn on the DVD player. I have something for you to see.”

  Grady groaned. “Please tell me it's not something that you're going to use to blackmail me later during the Best Man's speech?”

  I grinned as the TV bounced to life.

  “You bet I will.”

  A stormy Vikram and quiet Bastian lurked on the couch as I pulled the DVD up and started the tape. Whatever had happened before I arrived clearly hadn't been good, but this tape would erase all that. The reminder of what we had as friends was all they needed. Besides, this was just a continuation of the tempest that exploded between all of us at the bungalow after we all first arrived.

  No more of that mess.

  Time to get real.

  Seconds later, the initial footage of the C-Tape flickered across the scene. A familiar, although more high-pitched version, of Vikram's voice filled the room. I lowered onto the couch near Grady with a wide smile.

  Here. We. Go, I thought.

  “Hey!” Vik cried from the television. “Are you ready or what?”

  In the present, Grady cursed. Bastian's eyes grew wide. Vik's expression lost the animosity and went slack. He looked at me and pointed to the TV screen wordlessly. I grinned.

  “You bet it is,” I said. “Now shut up and watch.”

  On the screen, a small figure lingered at the top of a church steeple three or four stories high. The steeple plummeted down a straight drop, then moved into a gradual curve at the end. The figure on top was me.

  I sat there on a rug that I'd turned upside down. Even now, I could f
eel the pit in my stomach as I stared at that initial free-fall drop before it curved. There were divots to avoid, and it was dusk out. Light enough the video would come through, but not full day in case a cop strolled by.

  “No way,” Bastian whispered. He shook his head in a half-laugh. “No. Flipping. Way.” Vik leaned forward, fist pressed to his mouth. Grady glanced at me, one eyebrow raised in question, but I ignored him and kept my gaze locked forward.

  A voice on the screen called out again. Bastian, this time.

  “One . . . two . . . go, Hernandez!”

  Seconds later, my body plummeted off the top of that church.

  My heart did a double beat just recalling the way the rug felt under me as I slid down that metal rooftop. The sense of nothing but air and pain and death beneath my legs for a small eternity—only a few seconds—before I caught up with the part where the roof sloped into a curve. My teeth clenched as I watched it all happen again, without a helmet on.

  The anticipated rush of pride didn't follow this video—which was one of my previous favorites. No sense of adventure, nor hope to do even better next time. To get bigger adventures. Top even that.

  This time, I could only wonder how I'd survived so many years. What if I'd hit my head? I could have become wholly paralyzed. What would my Mom have done if I had weeks’ worth of hospital bills? Surgeries?

  “Damn,” Vik murmured quietly. “That looks worse than I remembered.”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “Stupid,” Grady said. “Stupid, stupid. What if your rug caught on one of those divots? Dude, you could have died.”

  “We were complete morons,” Bastian said.

  The video scratched a bit, then turned off. Two seconds later, another one popped up. Another previous classic, with a bright red lobster and Grady's shirt off. The lobster was a few inches away from his left nipple. On the video, Bastian burst out in laughter as the lobster attached to Grady's nipple, and he screamed.

  Grady reached over, rubbing it. “Freaking hurt,” he muttered.

  “Bled like crazy,” I said.

  We fell quiet, and I wondered why this didn't feel as good as I'd hoped.

  Another movie clip started. The smell of asphalt replayed through my mind as it baked beneath my feet on a hot summer day. Verdant green mountains surrounded our teenage selves while Vikram attempted to zipline down a ski lift on a homemade rig. Sparks flew out behind him as he fell, breaking an ankle with the crash of branches and a howl.

  Vik hissed and sucked in a sharp breath as he watched the C-tape, then shook his head. His hand massaged that ankle.

  “Still hurts sometimes,” he muttered.

  Grady laughed. “Remember how we tried to splint it with a couple of sticks and some vines? I think we made it worse.”

  Vik grimaced. “I will never forget that.”

  Bastian chortled. “Some paramedics we were.”

  We watched half-heartedly as the rest of the pranks cycled through the tape. Some of them felt childish, like shoving Bastian into a box and pushing him down the stairs. Most of them were dangerous, idiotic. We'd been more fueled by the camaraderie and thrill than the actual tricks, but at the time, it felt like they were everything. It felt like we were the tricks. Or maybe we were just notoriety seekers.

  By the time the C-Tape flickered off, we'd fallen quiet. The replaying of our childhood idiocy, and the comments back and forth now, came with a mixed bag of emotions.

  “Seemed so much cooler at the time,” Bastian murmured.

  “We were cool . . . weren't we?” Vik asked.

  “Just dumb,” Grady said with a shake of his head. “Just . . . really dumb. Maybe a little bit bored.”

  Now it felt . . . crazy.

  Filtered through the lens of adulthood and real-world experience, I felt gratitude that no one had died in our ridiculous stunts. After everything I'd seen working at the sheriff's office, the fact that we'd survived had been a literal miracle.

  Vik fell into deep thoughts with a frown, his arms folded across his chest. Bastian pulled his bottom lip through his teeth, and Grady just stared at the screen. I pulled the other three copies out of the C-tape out of my pocket and tossed them to each one.

  “Had copies made for all of us. So we never forget. Yes, we were dumb. We were lucky to survive long enough that any of us could get married. But we had each other, and that is what really mattered.”

  A few murmured thanks followed, but I wasn't about to let them off the hook. I pegged a hard stare on Vik.

  “Vik, it was good then. We had great times and a tight bond, and our crazy adventures took us down some wild roads. But it wasn't everything, and we can't live that life forever. You see that, right? Tell me you see that that was a different time and we're smarter people now. I need to hear that you can let this go.”

  Vik glanced from me to Grady, then back to the TV screen, where I'd paused the movie on a shot of the four of us swimming in the water after a particularly long cliff jump that slapped so hard I'd been red for two days.

  Vik nodded. “Yeah, you're right. It . . . it was good then. It's . . . it is different now.”

  I swung my gaze to Grady.

  “Grady, don't discount it for what it was at the time. Four idiots that were lucky to survive, but we always had three other people to lean on. Vik isn't upset about losing the danger.” I glanced back at him to confirm. “He's afraid to lose us.”

  After another moment of hesitation, Vik nodded.

  “Yeah.”

  “We all want to stay together.” I nodded to Bastian, who nodded back. “But we might need to figure out what that looks like now, as adults. Yes, we may have wives. Grady will have ten kids, Vik will have ten wives that won't ever meet each other, and Bastian will always be frightened of women. Agreed?”

  Bastian shot me a glare.

  Grady nodded and looked to Vik. “I'm sorry, man. I see it. We're always here. We'll always be friends.”

  Vik nodded.

  I held up both hands. “Great. Now that's over with and we can stop being annoyed with each other, I need to go talk to Dagny really quickly. Then we can get on to this business of getting married, already.”

  Grady swiped the remote from my hand and shut the TV off. “You can talk to Dagny later.” He tossed it back to the couch and pointed to Bastian and Vik. “Right now, we need to go over the ceremony, look at your tuxedos, and get ready for the see the bride moment. You good for it, Best Man? Your girl can wait!”

  A lingering challenge lived in that question. This was his wedding. Was I going to be the one to mess it up? An itch to tell Dagny about the kiss with Victoria, and how it only made me want her, and things would be different when we returned, reared its head. But it would have to wait.

  Properly chastised, I nodded once. He was right. Best Man duties awaited, no matter how badly I wanted to explain things to her. To tell her that Victoria was a wisp of a dream—but she was the real thing. That boys had to grow up and some women had to go away, but together, we would stay.

  Dagny would have to wait . . . at an island resort with delicious food, white sand beaches, and as much sunshine as she'd get anywhere. I had a feeling she'd be just fine for a few hours.

  “Of course. We're good,” I said. “Let's do it.”

  Grady grinned in a way that took up his whole face. “Then let's get this settled between me and my wife, y'all. I'm getting married!”

  17

  Dagny

  The sound of water slapping the beach reverberated through the bungalow. I stared at the ceiling, half asleep, buried in thoughts of sandy beaches, pristine oceans vistas, and Jayson Hernandez with his shirt off, playing in the ocean.

  That would haunt my dream for years to come.

  With a little sigh, I shuffled out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. A soft breeze drifted through the room, stirring my hair. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, my thoughts heavy—yet light—with Jayson.

  This trip had done
exactly what I didn't want—entrench me even farther in my feelings for him. Now, I'd seen a side of him that I hadn't before. The gentle side. The fun side. The side that didn't prioritize danger and drama over safety. Even in Pineville, I saw that same intensity channeled into a different place: safety for others.

  Now that I saw this side of him, I couldn't unsee it. It made sense, in some strange way, that I should fall harder than ever for him, instead of being more able to let him go. I scoffed when I remembered my plan to see the human side of him and be able to stop my obsession.

  That had failed on an epic proportion.

  But maybe that was okay. Because hadn’t he been amazingly honest? Wasn’t there a level of adoration in his gaze I’d never hoped to see?

  So why did I still hesitate? Why couldn’t I just have some courage and tell him already?

  While I picked over a piece of toast and some orange juice, my thoughts wandered back to Pineville. We'd leave tomorrow; reality would return. I wouldn't wake up to coconut shell knick knacks decorating the spaces of a gentle bungalow constantly filled with the sound of the ocean. The whir of the Frolicking Moose would take its place. With it came the comforts of the mountains and the dull steadiness of my predictable routine.

  Jayson Hernandez might be a more constant part of that routine. I could barely comprehend the thought.

  Although I'd been ignoring her so far, Victoria's voice filtered back through my mind. The night of the dinner, she'd acted startled that I'd been attending an online school. As if the position of the school had any bearing on the education that it gave to complete the purpose that I wanted.

  A knock at the back of the bungalow drew my attention up. The door was open, allowing the breeze to dance through. A male outline filled the doorway, but shadows prevented me from recognizing him right away. I padded over, feet bare on the wooden floor, and came to a fast stop.

  Anthony Dunkin smiled at me.

  My heart dropped into my stomach as I reached the door, then paused with my hand halfway there. For a heartbeat, the two of us just stared at each other.