by Anna Paige
Charli handed me the extra beer she was holding, and one corner of her mouth curled up, but for once she didn’t open her big mouth.
Beck stuck one hand in his pocket and turned to stand on the other side of Blair, looking out over the clusters of people scattered down the beach. “Crowd’s thinning out already.”
I surveyed the number of people still hanging out. “More beer for us then.”
Charli glanced over her shoulder and snickered. “Blair’s date seems to be hovering by the keg. Guess he didn’t find any takers after all.”
“Stop calling him my date,” she groused.
“He’s hit on anything that moved ever since you guys got here. I think one girl slapped him,” Becker commented with a shake of his head.
“Shocker.” Blair sported a look of mock surprise. “Apparently even a bunch of drunk girls are smarter than you, bestie.”
“Hey, hey. I already apologized for that.”
Blair shrugged, not caring. “This is the kind of thing I’m apt to hold a grudge about.”
They glared at each other for a minute before they both cracked up.
Women’s friendships were so weird.
Blair stepped over and slung an arm around Charli’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s go see if Alisha left yet. I’m planning on taking Psych next semester, and I want her professor’s name so I can be sure not to take his class.”
“You two behave,” Becker called as they turned to leave.
Charli winked at him over Blair’s shoulder and said, “I’ll make sure she keeps her clothes on.”
Both Blair and Becker groaned.
That girl had zero couth.
Blair
Sadly, Alisha had already made her escape, so Charli and I chatted with a few people, got ourselves refills, and headed back to our original spot down the beach.
We sat in silence for a while, watching the waves, when I finally couldn’t stand it anymore and blurted, “I think Ash and I are a thing now.”
She spilled beer in her lap as she jerked in my direction, looking stunned—and a bit comical, if I was being honest. She didn’t even try to clean up the beer seeping into her jeans, and I couldn’t decide if it was because she, too, was rather inebriated or if my announcement had left her too startled to notice it. “You and Ash?” she said it so loud I cringed, then dropped her voice, adding, “What do you mean you think?”
I struggled to find the words. Maybe I needed to slow down on the booze. “I mean he said he’s into me, that he has been for a long time. And I told him . . . wait, what did I tell him? Hang on. Let me think. It all felt like a dream at the time and it’s fading the more time passes, you know what I mean? It’s foggy like I just woke up but can’t remember all the details, just how it made me feel.”
She reached over and took the beer from my hand, dumping it in the sand beside her. “You need to sober up.”
I squinted at her and nodded. “Probably. But I know it wasn’t a dream. I just need a minute to remember the particulars.” The wind picked up, blowing in off the water and making me shiver. “Why do I remember talking about Cliff?”
“That was before, silly. I accidentally ratted you out to Ash about prom night, remember?”
Maybe that was it. I still felt like I talked about Cliff more than once. I’d have to think about it a little more.
“Did he kiss you?”
I frowned, searching my fuzzy recollections. “I don’t think so. It seems like maybe he talked about it, but I don’t think he ever did.”
“You’d remember that, drunk or not,” she assured me.
My head bobbed in agreement but felt detached from my body, floaty. “He held my hand when we were walking back, I do remember that. His hand was so warm in mine and he held on really tight like he was worried I’d pull away.”
Charli snorted. “Or that you’d fall on your face. You’re pretty lit, in case you haven’t noticed.”
That made me giggle. “No way? Really? I’m not the one with the lap full of beer. You look like you pissed yourself.”
“Oh, shut it.” Charli was giggling too. “Maybe I did. You and Ash? After all these years? It’s ‘piss your pants’ level news, don’t you think?”
We laughed a while longer, her leaning on me and me trying to balance with the added weight. Eventually, we both fell back onto the sand and were content to lie there, staring at the sky for the longest time in total silence.
For the better part of an hour, Charli and I listened to the waves and stared up at the stars, lost in our own thoughts. The best part about Charli was the way she didn’t rush to fill silences with conversation. She knew I liked to get lost in my own little world, and she let me. And it was a great comfort knowing she’d be there when I made my way back.
The floaty feeling started to subside now that I wasn’t continually adding more alcohol to my system.
I was beginning to think Charli had fallen asleep, until she nudged my arm.
“How do I manage to get you into these things?”
I frowned at her. “What things?”
“All the things. Like setting you up with that walking disaster tonight.”
“That’s only one thing.”
“What about the thing that almost killed you?”
“Charli—” I warned.
She sat up, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. “Don’t ‘Charli’ me. You never would have gotten sick if I hadn’t dragged you into the woods looking for fucking blackberries. You got bitten by that tick because of me. You didn’t want to go, and I made you because I was scared to go alone.” She sniffed and roughly shoved her hair out of her face where the wind had blown it. “We weren’t allowed to ride our bikes that far, and we definitely weren’t supposed to go into that patch of woods.” Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. “You never told anyone where you picked up the tick. Why?”
“I didn’t want to get into trouble.” I offered simply, though it was more complicated than that and we both knew it. “I went berry picking because I wanted to go berry picking. You didn’t force me to do shit. And it wasn’t your fault. It was no one’s fault.” I edged closer until my hip was pressed against hers and I bumped her arm with my elbow. “Why are you thinking about old shit anyway?”
“Sometimes I think Becker knows the truth or suspects anyway. I was always the instigator when you and I got into trouble. Maybe he figured out I was the reason you got sick and that’s why he doesn’t like me.”
“You’re imagining shit. Becker does like you. Maybe not the way you like him because his head is too far up his ass to realize how lucky he is that you’re interested in him, but he does like you. I’d know if he didn’t. And there’s nothing for him to ‘suspect’ anyway. You. Did. Nothing. Wrong. We were a couple of shithead nine-year-olds who liked adventure and getting into trouble.”
“You call that an adventure? You didn’t see it.” Her voice cracked a little. “Becker was standing over you on the couch, shaking you and begging you to wake up. He was always so confident, so grown up, at least to me. But that day he was so small, scared, pleading with you and offering to play tea party if you’d just wake up.”
Shit. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I reached for her hand. “You never told me that.”
“I knew you’d hate hearing how upset he was.” Her hand was cold in mine, and it trembled. “He offered to give you his dessert—and Ash’s too—he just kept whispering that he was a bad brother. He kept on saying it in the waiting room at the hospital, over and over. It was awful. And when the doctor came in and said it was from a tick bite, I knew it was all because of those stupid blackberries. You were sick because of me, your mom was inconsolable because of me, Becker was crying because of me. Even Ash broke down. And it was because of me.”
“Stop it, Char—”
“The worst part was, once you were awake and I was able to visit, you were so happy I was there. You never even thought to be angry with me.”
“Because it wasn’t your fault,” I insisted. “I’d never be angry with you over something that wasn’t your fault.”
“You were angry with me tonight.”
I had to smile. “Well, maybe for a little while. But even the date from hell wasn’t really your fault. You didn’t know he was such a train wreck. Like you said, he was much different at the coffee shop.”
“But you don’t understand. I was kind of relieved that you were mad. It was like finally, finally, you were angry with me. It wasn’t for the reason you should have been all these years, but somehow, I felt better because you were pissed at me. Because I was finally getting a little of what I deserved.”
“Oh, Charli, you’ve got to stop dwelling on that shit. You’re punishing yourself for something you didn’t even do. Let it go, please. I’m fine. It’s fine. The last thing I need is one more person letting that stupid moment in time define their lives. Look at my mom. She turned into such a high-strung, anxiety-riddled ‘smother’ that she had to be put on medication to avoid being hospitalized herself. I love her so much, you know I do, but she drove me crazy with her constant fear and overprotectiveness. And she let worrying about me overtake her life.” I tugged Charli’s hand over and placed it between both of mine. “Don’t let yourself get wrapped up in some cycle of misplaced guilt. Okay?”
“Cycle of misplaced guilt? What, did you lose your buzz or something? Because that’s not typical drunk-girl talk.” She finally smiled and leaned her head on my shoulder.
“I’m still a bit tipsy, but not as much as I was.”
“Good, maybe you’ll finally remember the juicy parts of your conversation with Ash. I’m dying to know all the dirty details.”
That was more like it, my Charli was back.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t accommodate her just yet. “Give me a little more time to untangle it in my head. It’s still a jumble right now. Bits and pieces.”
She harrumphed but didn’t press further. “Fine, I can wait, if I must.” She giggled suddenly and smirked at me. “While we’re waiting for your memory to kick in, can we please talk about that bra now? What exactly were you expecting when you got dressed for your date tonight—aside from having itchy titties, because . . . ouch?”
I had no reason to lie, not to her anyway. “Nothing, absolutely nothing. I just wanted to feel pretty, is all. I knew there’d be a ton of gorgeous girls here who I’d never be able to compete with in a million years, but at least I could feel sexy underneath.”
“First off, you’re out of your fucking gourd if you think you’re not beautiful enough to compete with these other girls. Second, who were you competing for?” The look on her face said she knew exactly who, but the dirty bitch was gonna make me say it out loud.
“No one. I just wanted to feel desirable.”
“For . . . ?”
I blew out a breath and flipped her the bird. “Ashton, okay? I wanted to be able to stand across from him while he checked out other girls imagining what he’d do if he could see me in my skimpy, lacy thong and bra. Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“If he doesn’t want to see it, you can show it to me.”
Charli and I both jumped at the sound of Tommy’s slurring, unfriendly voice.
Shit.
She and I looked at each other with wide eyes as he came up behind us and unceremoniously flopped down onto the sand at my back sitting cross-legged, his knees actually touching me he was sitting so close.
“Technically, you already showed part of it to everybody, but I wouldn’t mind a private viewing.” He leaned forward as he spoke, his stale beer breath on the back of my neck.
I jumped to my feet and reached down to jerk Charli to hers. “We were just headed back to get a refill.” I pointed to my empty cup in the sand at my feet.
He got up quicker than I would have expected for someone so obviously shit-faced. “You can have a sip of mine.” He reached out and grabbed my hand, ignoring Charli completely when she tried to argue. “I thought maybe we could talk a minute about how your friends are all stuck-up cunts and now I’m all alone tonight.”
I tried to tug my hand away, but he wouldn’t let go. “Sorry you didn’t meet anyone. There’s always next time. Tomorrow is a new day and all that,” I rambled, still trying to get my hand from his grip.
Charli stepped up and grabbed my arm, trying to help me wrestle from his grip. “We’re leaving now. Let go.” She tried to sound confident, but she was obviously as afraid as I was.
Calmly as you please, Tommy reached out and shoved her away from me. “We’re trying to have a private conversation here. You wanted us together. Now we are, so fuck off.”
“No, fuck you!” Charli launched herself at his back and he swatted her away like a fly, his grip on me turning painful.
I reared back to hit him with my free hand when he tugged the hem of his shirt up and flashed the butt of a gun. “Tell her to leave or this gets ugly.”
Blair
In an instant, I knew what had to happen.
Charli was getting up from where she’d landed spread-eagle on the sand, preparing to launch herself at him again.
His other hand was hovering just inches from the gun tucked into his waistband and the look on his face made it clear his threat was anything but empty.
“Charli, stop!” I signaled with my free hand. “It’s okay. I’ll talk to him.”
She froze without attacking him again but looked far from convinced. “Blair—”
“I mean it. I owe it to him after I blew him off the way I did. Just give us a few minutes alone. I’ll meet you back at the party.”
“I’m not leaving you with him.”
“Yes. You. Are. Now go talk to that hot guy you were too afraid to hug earlier.” I gave her a pointed look.
“Yeah, go get you some and leave us alone,” Tommy said with a sneer, not bothering to look back at her. He wasn’t worried about her in the least. He was too busy looking me up and down like a piece of meat.
Charli took advantage of that and made a swirling motion over her head, our childhood signal for the police. I nodded and offered a forced smile. “Yeah, go get him, girl. Drag him to the far end of the beach and make your move.”
Hopefully, she took the hint because the last thing I wanted was Becker to charge in here and get himself shot.
She still hesitated a moment before setting off. If she’d seen the gun, she never would have left, which was exactly why I didn’t try to alert her to it.
Her steps were slower at first, while she knew Tommy was watching her leave, but once she looked back and saw his attention was once again on me, she took off at a dead run.
And I was left staring into the eyes of a monster.
“Let’s sit down and talk, okay?” I tried again to tug my hand from his grip and heard a pop as he tightened his hold on me. Was that my pinkie being wrenched from its socket? I was too full of adrenaline to feel it if it was, but it sounded brutal.
“I thought we’d take a walk, maybe check out the dunes.”
“We shouldn’t. There’s laws against messing with them, something about sea turtles or something.”
He snorted. “I’ve watched a dozen different girls walk back there to piss tonight. How do you think the turtles liked that?”
“Still . . .”
“I figure if it’s private enough to piss, it’s private enough to do other things.” He looked me over again, this time frowning. “But I don’t want to talk or anything else while you’re standing there in another man’s clothes.” He jerked my hand, yanking me closer until I was inches from his face. “Take it off.”
“No, I’m cold,” I argued, beginning to truly panic now.
Without another word, he pulled the pistol from his waistband and held it toward the sky, an implied threat I was not about to challenge.
“Fine, I’ll take it off, but you have to let go of my hand first.” My entire body felt like someone had dumped a bucket
of ice water over me, my fear having burned off my buzz and replaced it with a level of terror I’d never experienced in my entire life. If I could just get him to let go and distract him for a second, maybe I could get away.
My plan must have been pretty predictable, since he once again jerked me into his body, his breath humid and reeking of beer as he hissed in my face. “I’m a damn good shot. Just thought I’d mention it in case you’re thinking of running.”
Fuck.
Maybe he was too drunk to hit a moving target.
But maybe not.
I wasn’t willing to risk it.
“No, I said I’d talk to you and I will. I’ll even take off Ash’s hoodie, if that makes you happy. But I can’t get it off with you holding on to my hand the way you are.”
His eyes narrowed as he studied my face for what felt like forever, but he eventually let me wrest my hand from his grip.
I reached up and tucked my shirttail partially into my jeans, desperate to avoid a repeat of what happened the last time I tried to take off the hoodie, then started tugging Ash’s college sweatshirt over my head. The smell of his cologne invaded my senses as I pulled the fabric over my head, and I had to fight back tears.
“Hurry up,” Tommy prodded, reaching out to snatch the hoodie the rest of the way off, snaring a handful of my hair in the process.
“Ouch!” I leaned away, trying to get my hair out of his grip. “I was doing fine without your help.”
“Maybe I wanted to help you undress.”
“Taking off a sweatshirt is not the same as undressing.”
“No, but it’s a start,” he said, reaching for my top and crumpling the fabric in his hands as he pulled the hem from where it was tucked into my jeans.
I swatted his hands, frantic now that he’d dropped any pretense of wanting to talk.
I knew exactly what he wanted, and I’d die before I allowed it to happen.
“Stop, Tommy. I said I’d talk to you, but that’s as far as it goes. Get your hands off me or I’ll scream!”
