Oh yeah. I’m not imagining it.
My heart pounds in my chest. What if someone is trying to rob us? Or kidnap me for ransom? Daddy’s desire to become mayor of Sterling may have made me the target of some political scheme...
I shake my head trying to clear the sluggishness in my brain.
Kidnapping for political reasons in this small town at ten thirty in the morning does seem a little far-fetched, I try to reassure my foggy mind. I’m definitely regretting taking my medicine now that I’m outside hearing strange noises. I take a deep breath and take a couple of steps toward the side of the house.
I creep around the corner, and see…a boy?
He’s looking inside one of the windows of my house. Turns out, I wasn’t so far off when I thought there might be a robber outside. I look around for a stick, or a bat, or anything that I can use for a weapon, but who am I kidding? The lawn crew came by earlier this morning, when the sun was still rising, and there’s no way they’d leave any debris behind.
I lift my phone and dial nine-one-one and let my finger hover above the send button before I yell, “Hey!”
The boy’s head snaps back toward me, and I recognize him from school. Dark hair, tan skin, lean muscles. It’s Adam Price. We went to high school together, but never ran in the same circles. I doubt I’ve spoken more than a handful of sentences in the entire time I’ve known him, so I can’t imagine why he’s outside my house.
His brows lower as he looks at my face.
There’s nothing hiding it, and my hand flies up to the angry scar running down my cheek. I can feel the hard ridges and soft spots from where the doctor cut a huge chunk of my skin away. I haven’t bothered covering it with a bandage for a while since I never leave the house. Now with Adam’s eyes on my face, I’m exposed and unprotected.
It’s several moments before I can get my heart beating normally again. Adam shouldn’t be here, but I no longer think I’m in danger, so I delete the emergency number from my screen and drop my hands to my sides. I clear my throat and do my best to make my voice come out like the old Rose—confident Rose. “What are you doing here?”
His eyes stay glued to my cheek a few seconds before they finally shift to my eyes. “I, uh, lost my frisbee.”
I lift my brows. “Your frisbee?”
Adam rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah. Some guys and I were throwing it around, and it got away from us.”
My house is on the beach; we can literally walk out the back door and down to the sand. It wouldn’t be a bad excuse, except this particular stretch of sand is private. If he and his buddies were actually tossing the frisbee out there, they were trespassing. I lift my brows. “On North Beach?”
His eyes close and he nods. “Yeah. The tourists have started hitting Sterling. You know how it is.”
I tip my head. Every local knows how overrun everything becomes during the summer months. The traffic gets worse, restaurants that are usually empty have wait times, and you can forget about the drive-in. “What about your buddies?”
He shrugs. “They ran when I came up to your house. Apparently, they were afraid of the wrath of Mr. Beaumont.”
I snort and am surprised by the sound. When was the last time I laughed? If that small sound even counts. “He’s at work.”
A corner of Adam’s mouth lifts into a crooked grin, and my heart skips a beat. It’s been so long since someone has smiled at me. And while I know that’s mostly my fault for avoiding everyone since my diagnosis, it’s still nice. Or, at least, it’s nice until reality sets in.
He’s not looking at you like that, Rose. No boy is going to look at you like that ever again.
But I will not feel sorry for myself in front of Adam. I force the tears that threaten to fall to stay put. “So, if you’re here for a runaway frisbee, where is it?”
Adam’s eyes go to a nearby bush. “Oh, there it is.” He bends down and pulls a round piece of plastic from it with a smile.
Really?
I was sure his story was a ruse to spy on me, but maybe this medicine is messing with my head more than I realize. My so-called friends gave up on me after a week of me ignoring their calls and texts. I’m not missed. So why would some kid from the wrong side of the beach care?
His eyes flick to my scar again, and I swear his cheeks get a little pinker when his eyes meet mine. At least he has the decency not to say anything about my disfigured face. “Here it is,” he says, waving the frisbee unnecessarily.
“Okay,” I say, just as superfluously.
We’re staring at each other like idiots, and I’m not entirely sure what’s going on. This is the point where he should leave my yard and never come back again, but he’s not moving. And I’m not moving. I start to wonder if it’s been so long since I’ve talked to another human being, besides my doctor and my parents, that maybe I’ve forgotten how to interact with others.
“Well, I hope you have a good day,” I say, and start to turn back to the front of my house.
I hope you have a good day? Apparently, my social skills are so rusty they’ve gone back in time to the 1800s.
“Wait,” Adam says, and I look back at him.
He doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, he’s staring at my face—not just my scar—and biting his bottom lip. Just when I start to wonder if he’ll actually say something, he asks, “Wanna hang out sometime?”
My heart hammers in my chest, but I narrow my eyes. “Why?” The word comes out more breathless than I’d intended.
“I don’t know.” He shrugs, and a lock of hair falls into his eyes. “I thought we could sit on the beach for a little bit tomorrow.”
I blink a few times, taking in his words. Is Adam Price asking me out on a date? His gaze has gone to his feet, and he’d look uncertain if he wasn’t holding his shoulders so straight. I take another look at his dark hair and tan, lean body. He’s cute, and I’ve never heard anyone say anything bad about him before. But he’s also from South Beach. A couple of months ago, I would have laughed in his face at such a request, I realize with a sinking feeling in my stomach. But now?
Now, my hands feel clammy, and my mouth has gone dry. “Uh…”
He puts his hands up, the bright red frisbee still in one of them. “How about this? I’ll hop the fence around eleven tomorrow. If you want to hang out, you’ll know where to find me.” A smile plays at the corner of his lips, and it lights up his entire face.
“And if I don’t?”
He shrugs. “I’ll bring my board and enjoy getting to surf without having to run into a bunch of sunburnt kooks.”
I smile at his gentle teasing of the tourists that flock to Sterling every summer. But I’m also intrigued. Everybody who lives here has tried their hand at surfing at some point. Some people—like Adam, apparently—are really good. And others—like me—never quite made it past laying on a board.
“Make it nine,” I say quickly before I can lose my nerve.
His grin is back, and I like the way it makes my stomach do somersaults. “Does that mean you’re going to meet me?”
I conjure up old Rose again. “It means I’ll think about it.”
“I’ll see you at nine, then.”
The corners of my mouth tip up at his misplaced confidence. “I didn’t say I was—”
“But for now, I’m going to go find my good-for-nothing friends and call them out on abandoning me.” He jerks his chin toward the beach and smiles at me one last time before he turns and walks down toward the sand.
And like a complete loser, I stand and watch him disappear in the distance. I honestly don’t know if I’m going to meet him tomorrow. This brief interaction was fun, but I’m not sure I’m up for back-to-back visits after being off the scene for so long.
But what I do know is this: I want to see Adam again.
Chapter Three
Adam
Gisele crosses her arms over her chest. “What do you mean you’re going back again today?”
I
shrug. “It means exactly what it sounds like, I’m going back to North Beach again today.”
I want that to be the end of this conversation, though I doubt it will be.
My stomach churns as I picture Rose’s face. Not because it’s gross—that girl is somehow a knockout even with a huge scar running down the side of her face—but because I know that scar is exactly the ammunition Gisele was looking for when she asked me to break into her house. I also know without a shadow of a doubt that’s why Rose Beaumont fell off the face of the Earth several weeks ago.
I haven’t told Gisele about what I’ve discovered yet, and I’m not a hundred percent sure why. Maybe it’s because I feel guilty for being dishonest, even to Rose Beaumont. I’m not that guy. Not to mention, Rose has never done anything bad to me.
Was she horrible and shallow in high school? Absolutely. Have I been personally victimized? No. Besides, the girl I met yesterday outside her house seemed more insecure than a mean girl—though she did put on a good show.
If anyone is the jerk in this situation, it’s me. I shouldn’t have asked if she wanted to hang out today, not when my main motivation is money. Though if I’m being honest with myself, it’s not my only reason for asking...Rose looked so happy to have someone to talk to, it just kind of burst out of me. I try to tell myself we’ll both get something we want from the situation.
I know I have to go back, and my plan is less than solid: just snap a picture on my phone if the opportunity arises. The whole thing sucks, and if there was any way I could back out, I would. But after Mom went to sleep last night, I looked through the bills again. Our money situation isn’t just bad. It’s really, really bad. And while Gisele’s money isn’t enough to pull us completely out of the hole, it will float us a little longer.
It might mean my mom won’t have to pick up a second job. It might mean that we won’t get evicted.
I know people say the end doesn’t justify the means. But I really hope they’re wrong because I have to go through with this—even if that makes me the worst human being in the world.
Gisele sighs. “But Isaac said you guys hopped the fence to the north end of the beach yesterday.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“And that he saw you walk up to the Beaumont house.”
“I did.”
Gisele raises her brows. “And?”
“And nothing.” I grab my board and stick it under my arm. “Which is why I’m going back today.”
Her shoulders slump, but she immediately perks back up. “Do you want me to come with you?”
“No,” I say too quickly, and scramble to think of an excuse. “I’m going to try to talk to her and find out what she’s hiding. But I doubt she’ll open up if she sees you.”
Gisele presses her lips together as she looks at me. “I hope you can find something out today. I know it must be awful to have to see her two days in a row.”
Yeah. But not for the reasons Gisele thinks.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “I’ll let you know what I know as soon as there’s something to know.”
She smiles. “Okay. Cool.”
Yep. Cool.
It’s not a long walk to the private beach. I hop the wooden fence to get to the north end and am surprised when I see a solitary umbrella in the distance. It’s bright pink, and though it’s several yards from the house, it’s directly in front of the Beaumont mansion.
And underneath the umbrella is Rose.
I don’t know if I’m excited that she showed up for someone like me, or if I’m dreading what I have to do. Honestly, it’s probably a mixture of both, and I might throw up all over the pristine shoreline if I think about it too much.
Instead, I take a steadying breath and plaster a smile on my face as I walk over to where she sits in the shade…in a long sleeve rash guard, weird latex leggings, and a wide-brimmed hat. Her brown hair falls loose around her shoulders, and her eyes are hidden behind oversized sunglasses.
I’m wearing a tee and my board shorts, and even though it’s only nine, I’m already sweating. I can’t imagine how hot she is in her get-up. And here I thought she was the type of girl who’d be wearing a bikini.
I sit down in the sand beside her. “You decided to show.”
“I didn't have anything else going on,” she says with a small smile.
She’s watching the waves as they crash against the shore, and sitting on the right side of her, I have a perfect view of her scar. I face the ocean but keep stealing glances of it out of the corner of my eye. I want to know how she got it. Was she in an accident? Did someone attack her?
I shake my head and push those thoughts down. They make me feel strangely protective, and if I let those feelings surface, I won’t be able to do this. I try to focus on all the horrible things Gisele has said about Rose over the years. All the rumors Rose has spread, and the things she’s said about people from the south end. Just because she has a scar on her face, doesn’t make her deserve my sympathy.
Then why can’t I seem to shake it?
“You brought your board,” she says after a few minutes.
“Just in case you didn’t come. I wanted to make sure I wasn’t sitting here like a loser.”
Her eyes don’t leave the water as she asks, “Do you surf a lot?”
I nod, not sure if she can see me in her peripheral. “I would be out in the water every day if it were a perfect world.”
“So, does that mean if you don’t go now, you’ll go later?”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “I work this afternoon, so I guess it just depends on how long I stay.”
We’re both quiet for a minute before Rose says, “You could always surf while you’re here.”
That sounds amazing. Surfing always helps me clear my head. I look over at her. “Do you want to come out with me?”
She shakes her head. “I don’t really like surfing.”
I pretend to gasp before I lean over my board and rub it with both hands “Don’t worry, baby. She didn’t mean anything by that. Everyone loves to surf.”
Rose laughs. It’s short and soft, but it’s definitely a laugh. “Oh no. You’re one of those guys?”
I turn back to face her. “What guy is that?”
“You know, the kind who pretends all his possessions are women or gives his car a girl’s name.”
I know exactly the type of guy she’s talking about. I could probably list a few of them by name considering we went to school with a bunch of them. And no, I’m not that kind of guy, so I lean in close. “I’ll have you know, I don’t even have a car.”
The scent of flowers—I’m guessing roses, because it makes sense in my mind—hits my nostrils. She smells amazing. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.
Wait.
I jerk back. I’ve been here less than five minutes and I’m already forgetting how important it is to keep my distance. But she must misinterpret my sudden urge to scoot away, because she shakes her head. “I-I didn’t mean to imply that—”
“Relax,” I say to make her…well, relax. This is Sterling Beach High’s former queen bee, and she just stuttered. It’s going to be really hard to get her to open up if she’s nervous. I need to find the fine line between being friendly and not-too-friendly, and so far, I’m doing a terrible job. “I was just teasing. And no, I didn’t name my surfboard. I’m just surprised you aren’t coming out there since you’re wearing that.”
Her face falls as she curls into herself.
This is going great, Adam. You really know how to charm the ladies. I hurry to apologize in an effort to make things less tense between us. “I’m not saying it looks bad or anything. You look good. I mean…”
My voice trails off. What do I mean? And why is this so much harder than when I talked to her outside of her house? Has my conscience gotten stronger in the last twenty-four hours? And how do I make it shut up?
“You’re good,” Rose says, mercifully stopping my ramblings. I’m so relieved, I smile at her, but she
looks sad. “I’m wearing this because my parents make me.”
Now, I’m really confused. I admit I don’t know much about the Beaumonts, but I wouldn’t take them as some super strict, conservative family. And Gisele has shown me pictures of her in bikinis on Instagram before, during one of her rants about Rose.
I lift my brows waiting for her to explain.
She takes a deep breath. “I don’t really want to talk about it, okay?”
“Sure. Okay.” I run my fingers through the sand, while I think of something else to say.
“You should go out there,” Rose says before I can come up with something clever. “The waves look great…I think.”
“They do look pretty inviting,” I answer taking in the way they swell and crash in the distance.
“And you don’t need to miss out because you feel like you have to babysit me for whatever reason.”
I smile at her. “Trust me. I wouldn’t consider this babysitting.”
Just lying and gaining your trust so I can exploit you.
“Go,” she says with a wave of her hand. “I’ll stay here and watch.”
I smile at her. “And will you be here when I get back? Or are you going to disappear while I’m out in the water?”
She laughs to herself. “Trust me. I don’t have anything better to do.”
Ouch. If I wasn’t planning on tricking Sterling’s most notorious mean-girl-turned-recluse, I might feel bad. “Okay, if you insist.”
I grab my board and walk out to the ocean. Once it hits my waist, I get on top of my board and swim out to where it’s deeper. I bob on top of the water until a good wave comes. I paddle over the lip, pop up, and ride the wave until it breaks.
My eyes go to the beach where Rose is still sitting under the umbrella. When she catches me staring in her direction, she waves. I wave back but pull my hand down when I realize I’m smiling.
Beauty and the Beach (Boys of Summer) Page 2
