It Had to be Mason: A Sweet YA Romance (Beachbreak High Book 1)

by Emily Lowry

  “Where to?” I asked.

  Zoe eyed the cove like she was looking for something. Or someone.

  Kevin?

  She shrugged. “Let’s get away from here. Have you ever been around the bend?”

  “No. You?”

  “Nope. You up for an adventure?”

  “Definitely.” I slid my feet into the water and kicked, directing us around the bend on the south side of Hideaway. The golden beach gave way to lush green forest, and soon, the excited shouts and chatter of Hideaway were out of earshot. I climbed back onto Sparkles.

  Zoe eyed the sun and sighed. “I forgot to put on sunscreen.”

  “Scared of getting a tan?”

  “I don’t tan. I don’t even burn. I blister.” She dug in her cooler and pulled out a tube of sunscreen. She hesitated. “Umm… would you… mind?”

  “No problem,” I said. My voice almost cracked.

  She passed me the tube of sunscreen and then turned her back to me.

  I squirted the lotion into my hand, then rubbed my palms together to warm it up. My heart beat quickly. “Ready?”

  I wasn’t sure if I was asking her or myself.

  27

  Zoe

  My heart was pounding in my chest, my hands shaking slightly. I reached back and pulled my hair to the side. “Ready whenever you are.”

  Mason placed his hands on my shoulders and rubbed in the lotion. His hands were the perfect kind of rough, just enough to create friction. They were strong, too, and as he rubbed the lotion onto my back, my muscles relaxed. The smell of coconut mingled with the fresh sea air and the spray of saltwater. The only sound was the waves lapping against Sparkles.

  “Done,” Mason said, pulling his hands away.

  I almost fell backwards into him — I hadn’t realized how hard I was leaning against his hands. My cheeks felt hot, and I had the sudden urge to leap into the ocean to cool down.

  “Thanks,” I said, choosing to lie on my stomach, my face tilted away from him. I’d been to the beach with Mason a million times. Seen him shirtless, in his swim shorts. Why was this so different?

  We drifted lazily around the bend, away from Hideaway. Away from everything but the forest. Out here, it felt like we were the only people in the world. And I was definitely okay with that.

  The tide pulled us around the bend to another, smaller cove I’d never seen before. There was a sandy beach littered with seashells. It was only big enough for four, maybe five people. A rope hammock was strung up, shaded by a pair of trees.

  “Do you see it?” I asked, pointing to the beach.

  “Looks like a good place for a picnic.”

  “Exactly what I was thinking,” I said.

  “Allow me, Cap’n.” Mason rolled off the raft and dove into the water. He floated above the surface, his wet skin shimmering in the sun, and slicked his hair back. Then he grabbed Sparkles around the neck, and, floating on his back, kicked, pulling us to shore.

  I hopped off Sparkles.

  Cool water enveloped my legs. The sand beneath my toes was smooth as silk.

  We dragged Sparkles onto the shore and sat him in the hammock.

  “He could use a break,” I said.

  “Me too.” Mason pretended to be out of breath.

  “Big tough football player can’t handle a little swim?”

  “Nah, I just wanted the hammock.”

  I laughed. “You won’t want the hammock when you see what I’ve got in store for us. I present... our lunch.”

  Lunch was sliced strawberries, a tub of blueberries, two ham and swiss croissants, and leftover popcorn and candy.

  Mason eyed the popcorn suspiciously. “Didn’t we forget to close the bag? Isn’t it stale?”

  “Popcorn’s better when it’s stale,” I said, taking a giant handful.

  Mason laughed like I was joking.

  But I wasn’t. Popcorn WAS better when it was just a little stale. It was softer. Almost chewy. Especially if you soaked it in butter, which I normally did.

  “You’re weird, Zoo,” Mason said. “The best kind of weird. But still weird.”

  “Takes one to know one.”

  On our own private beach, we ate lunch. We finished both the sandwiches, all the leftover candy, and most of the fruit. We took turns trying to throw popcorn into each other’s mouths, but an aggressive seagull quickly interrupted that game.

  It screeched at me and, simultaneously, Mason and I screeched back.

  Then we looked at each other and burst into hysterical laughter.

  I packed everything, making sure I didn’t forget any garbage. “Not too bad for a surprise lunch, was it?”

  “Not bad at all,” Mason said. “And I hope you know you’re not the only one with surprises.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “What?”

  “Check the outside pocket.”

  I pulled out our phones, which were in the waterproof pouch on the outside of the cooler. There was something else inside and I pulled it out, too. A portable speaker.

  Mason casually plucked it from my hand. He rested it on Sparkles and pointed it towards us. “I’ve been putting a little playlist together.”

  “You have, have you?”

  “Check this out.” He turned on the first song.

  It was a country song.

  “Is this—”

  “The first song we danced to,” Mason said, grinning. “Thought I’d bring it back out so I can show you how much better I’ve gotten. I probably won’t even step on your toes too many times.”

  I laughed. “Probably?”

  His grin widened. “I’m not making any promises. Shall we?”

  And so we danced.

  Mason’s playlist was a mix of two-step and jive. I didn’t know how he’d done it, but almost every song on his playlist was one we’d danced to when I was teaching him. When I prodded him about this point, he told me he had an excellent memory for things that were important. It was a quarterback thing.

  He spun me, I spun him. Sand flew as we danced and jumped and jived across our own private beach, careful to avoid the seashells. We danced under sun and shade. Sometimes, we took breaks to snack on fruit. Sometimes I danced by myself, showing him footwork and advanced concepts.

  Mason didn’t dance by himself. Instead, when I was taking a break, he lured Sparkles off the hammock and danced with the inflatable unicorn that was easily twice his size. It was the most ridiculous thing I had ever seen. Mason constantly apologized for stepping on Sparkles’ toes. Then, he threw Sparkles up in the air and caught him, complete with a dramatic bow.

  He was in the middle of his second dance with Sparkles — I was laughing so hard I was crying — when the song cut out and his phone rang.

  Mason jogged over and answered. He had a quick conversation, then glanced at me with a smile that was slightly sad. “Tyler,” he said. “Looks like you gotta get back home.”

  The bubble of our perfect day had popped.

  I wasn’t ready for it to end.

  As if he could read my mind, Mason extended his hand. He winked. “But how about we have one more dance, first?”

  28

  Zoe

  Mason stayed on my mind for the rest of the day. He was on my mind while I chewed through a burnt chicken thigh during family dinner, and he was still on my mind while I hunched over my desk and worked on a Physics problem. When my head hit my pillow, he was the last thing I thought about before falling asleep. And when I dreamed, I saw him and I dancing across clouds that were as soft as cotton candy.

  Come Monday morning, not a single thing had pushed Mason McClellan out of my mind.

  Nina found me in the hallway, grinning like a fool. She looped her arm through mine. “You need to tell me EVERYTHING.”

  And so I did. I told her about our impromptu sleepover. I told her about how we had breakfast together the next morning, just me and him walking in the surf. And I told her about our secret cove, the private beach where we danced. I didn’t te
ll her I couldn’t get Mason off my mind. I left that part out. I even tried to keep the excitement out of my voice, but I wasn’t sure how much I succeeded.

  Nina gawked. “That sounds amazing. Quick question for you — do you even remember Kevin?”

  “Of course I remember Kevin,” I said. That was technically true. I remembered Kevin. But when was the last time he popped in my head at random? Normally, thinking about him gave me butterflies, and caused my imagination to take off and wonder what a future between the two of us would look like. But now, it was almost like he was just another boy. A regular boy. Not that I was ready to admit that to anyone — including myself. “I still like Kevin. Besides, this whole thing with Mason — ”

  The words stopped my throat.

  At the far end of the campus, Mason was casually leaning against a locker, one leg up, his arms crossed. He wasn’t alone. Meredith stood beside him, her fingers twisting through her fair curls. She was smiling, laughing, and batting her eyelashes at him like she was a cartoon deer.

  “Someone got all dressed up,” Nina said, stopping beside me.

  She was right. Meredith was wearing a short eyelet sundress with delicate spaghetti straps. A fine, gold chain necklace gleamed at her throat, and in her wedge-heeled sandals, she was almost at eye level with Mason. She looked like she should’ve been on a first date at a fancy restaurant, instead of heading to dance class.

  The worst part?

  It looked like her fancy clothes were working on Mason. He couldn’t keep his eyes off her.

  Not that I cared. Though I couldn’t help glancing down at my blue and white striped shirt, white jean shorts and flip-flops. Stupid childish clothes that only emphasized how ordinary I was.

  “You okay?” Nina asked.

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” I replied. I tried to keep my voice firm and calm. But it was nearly impossible to ignore the sinking feeling in my chest. Or the pang of jealousy twisting through my stomach. “He’s allowed to talk to her. He’s supposed to talk to her. This whole thing we’re doing, it’s just a business transaction. The end goal is for him to end up with her.”

  Nina looked uncertain. “If you’re sure…”

  I nodded. “Let’s go to class.”

  Nina started walking in the direction of Mason and Meredith. And why wouldn’t she? That was the fastest way to class.

  I grabbed her arm. “Let’s take the scenic route.”

  Nina blinked, but said nothing.

  We turned and walked in the other direction. I resisted the urge to look over my shoulder and watch Mason and Meredith flirt. It was none of my business, I reminded myself. I should be happy for his success.

  “Zoe.” Mason’s voice carried through the open air.

  I pretended not to hear him.

  “Zoe, wait up.”

  I smiled weakly at Nina. “I’ll catch up with you.”

  She glanced at Mason, then to me. “Are you sure?”

  I nodded.

  She waved, then marched towards class.

  I put on my most cheerful smile. “Look at you go.”

  Mason immediately looked away, and scratched the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable. “You mean Meredith? That was just nothing.”

  It didn’t look like nothing. I folded my arms across my chest. “So, what’s up?”

  “I was wondering…”

  Wondering what? How the rest of my weekend was? What I had for breakfast? If my heart had sunk all the way to my feet when I saw him with Meredith, or if it still had further to go? “Yes?”

  He smiled shyly. “You know how to waltz?”

  It turned out my heart could sink further. “I can teach you.”

  “You’re the best,” Mason said. “I’ve got to run. See you in Life Skills?”

  His words echoed in my mind. I was the best? Clearly that wasn’t true. I wasn’t tall or gorgeous like Meredith. I wasn’t the gold medal. Heck, I wasn’t even the silver medal. To Mason, a girl like me was probably just a participation ribbon.

  29

  Zoe

  I spent the next two days burying myself in dance and, unfortunately, Physics homework. Mr. Hinshaw called this week avalanche week — as in, an avalanche of assignments and quizzes were due. He claimed that this was the only way to prepare us for the real world — to make us as stressed and overworked as possible. I welcomed the homework. It was better to focus on Physics problems than it was to focus on Mason.

  But, come Wednesday night, I was out of excuses. The football team had a rare night off, so I booked the dance studio for us after school.

  I was midway through practicing my footwork when the door swung open.

  Mason entered, wearing athletic shorts and a Rams jersey. His hair was messy, almost like someone had been running their fingers through it.

  And who would’ve been doing that? I pushed the question from my mind. I knew he had an unconscious habit of messing with his hair. He’d been doing it since he was a kid. It was almost a nervous tick — there was definitely no need for jealousy. Still, I decided it would be better for both me and Mason if I tried to keep a little professional distance between us. “Ready to waltz?”

  “I’m all yours,” Mason said.

  I flushed. If only that were true. “The basic step is called the box step. When you do the box step, you’ll create — surprise — a box on the floor. Start by putting your arm around me — your fingers should reach the small of my back.”

  Mason did. He smelled clean, like soap.

  I looked into his eyes, and my breath hitched.

  Keeping things professional was going to be harder than I anticipated. And it only got harder the more we danced. As I danced him through the motions — a forward half box, a backward half box, one two three, one two three — we fell into our familiar rapport.

  But the entire time we danced, one fact plagued my mind. I wasn’t teaching him to dance for me. I was teaching him to dance for Meredith. The longer we danced, the closer that fact came to the surface, until eventually, I could no longer hold it back.

  “I’m surprised Meredith wants to learn the waltz,” I said. “They rarely have a waltz at the Homecoming Dance Competition.”

  “Why not?”

  “Not as exciting to watch as jive or swing,” I said. “It’s smooth and elegant, which translates to boring for the average high schooler.”

  Mason frowned in concentration, stealing a glance at his footwork as we waltzed through the empty room. “Meredith says we should be prepared for anything.”

  The idea of him dancing with Meredith at Homecoming stung like a wasp bite. I raised my eyebrows. “So, it’s official?”

  “Not yet,” Mason said. “I haven’t asked her.”

  “But you want to go with her?”

  Mason accidentally stepped on my toe.

  I stumbled, tripped, and almost fell.

  30

  Mason

  I caught Zoe before she hit the floor. It was clumsy and awkward, but at least she didn’t hit her head and give herself a concussion.

  “I’m so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention to my feet.”

  But that wasn’t entirely true. Honestly, it was her question that made me stumble. I’d wanted to go to Homecoming with Meredith for so long, I hadn’t even considered whether it was still what I wanted. I just assumed it was. Who I really wanted to go with was—

  No. That wasn’t right. I mean, that would never work. She was my best friend’s little sister, and, more importantly, she preferred smart guys. Guys who played chess and board games and were going to Harvard.

  I steered her back into the rhythm of the waltz. “How’re things going with Kevin?”

  “Good enough.” Zoe bent her elbow and put her hand on my shoulder. She was an elegant dancer, every move precise. “We see each other in the hallways. And now, he actually talks to me, too.”

  “And how do you feel about that?” Ugh. Chalk that question up to the year I spent in forced therapy sessions aft
er my parents’ divorce.

  “I’m happy to report that I no longer feel like throwing up on his shoes every time he talks to me,” Zoe said.

  I laughed. “Proud of you.”

  “You should be. Soon I might even have a — gasp — boyfriend.”

  I stumbled again. This time I wasn’t able to catch Zoe, and she fell to the floor awkwardly, landing on her hip.

  She clutched her hip and winced. “Is it that difficult to believe?”

  I felt like I’d kicked a baby rabbit. My stomach sank, my chest hurt, and there was an annoying stinging in the corner of my eyes. “Sorry, Zoo,” I said, kneeling beside her. “You’re a great teacher, but I’m not much of a waltzer.”

  She grimaced. “Don’t worry. If Meredith asks, I’ll lie.”

  I helped her to her feet. “You don’t have to.”

  “What are friends for?” She brushed herself off. “And since we’re friends, maybe you can tell me what to do next with Kevin. I’m not even sure he wants to go to Homecoming. Or on a date. Or that he’s interested. For all I know, he’s just hoping I’ll buy another board game from him so he can get some commission.”

  I wanted to tell her that if Kevin wasn’t interested, then he was an idiot. Instead, I fell back into my old persona: Mason the Dating Coach. “That’s where the next step of our plan comes in. You’re going to throw a party.”

  Zoe’s eyes bulged.

  “A small party,” I added quickly. “Then, at the party, we’ll put you in a position where Kevin has to ask you on a date. How’s that sound?”

  Zoe smiled through the pain. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “Great,” I said. “Talk to Ty. Figure out when your mom’s gone next, and that’s when we’ll plan the party.”

  It’s great.

  Yeah, just great.

  31

  Zoe