She Runs Away (The Sheridan Hall Series Book 2)

by Jessica Calla

  “Great,” Rodrigo says. “So where are they?”

  Megan looks at me with wide eyes, and her blush creeps up her neck.

  “I must have left them on the counter.” I run inside to the basement fridge and grab as many plastic bottles as I can handle.

  When I return to the deck, my friends are sitting at the table laughing, the afternoon sun setting behind them, the waves crashing along the beach, and I’m peaceful. Settled.

  “Heads up,” I yell and start tossing bottles to the group, except for Megan. I walk hers over and kiss her when I hand it to her.

  “Hey,” Maggie whines. “How come I don’t get that kind of service? He threw the bottle at me!”

  I squeeze myself into the space between Megan and Maggie at the table and kiss Maggie on the cheek. “That’s better.”

  While everyone digs into the food, I glance at Megan.

  She blushes. “What?”

  “Tell me.”

  “No.”

  I’d been trying nonstop to get Megan to reveal the famous person who she lost her virginity to. On the plane to Miami, I’d told her that my first was Robin Woodson, and she’d burst out laughing.

  “You said on your questionnaire that you lost your virginity to someone famous! Woodson’s not famous!” Megan had said.

  “In Evander, Pennsylvania she is. She went from being a fledgling local reporter to a big-time Philadelphia anchorwoman. Famous, for sure.”

  “But when you had sex with her, she wasn’t famous. And how old is she? Was that even legal?” Megan’s laughter had drawn the attention of our neighboring passengers.

  “She went to college with Nate, and I met her at one of his frat parties. What are you laughing at?”

  Megan’s eyes had teared as she tried to keep quiet, and she doubled over. “Juliet calls her ‘Robin Boobson’ and says that she followed you around Evander after November. Is that why? Boobson’s still into you? Oh my God, I have to tell Juliet.”

  “No. This is in the vault. Jules doesn’t know. What about you, Smith? Tell me yours. It’s not the Henry guy?”

  “No, before Henry. And I’m not telling. I can’t.” Megan had wiped the tears from under her eyes.

  “Why not? I won’t tell.”

  “You’ll fanboy like a freak, and then my dad will find out—”

  “Ah, so it’s a football player? NFO or AFO?”

  “Not telling.”

  “Offense or defense?”

  “Nope.”

  And that’s how it had gone.

  Today, in Miami, I think I can get it out of her. “I know who it is.”

  Megan grins and takes a piece of steak off my plate. I name every quarterback under the age of thirty and look for her reaction. Nothing.

  “Listen, Benjamin,” she whispers. “If I can forget the fact that you had sex with the Boobinator and dated that goddess down there,” she points to Jules at the end of the table, “then maybe you can forget that I had sex, once, with a football player. A very famous football player.”

  She pops a cherry tomato into her mouth and I scowl at her. “Tease.”

  “It’s just us now, right?”

  “Just us, Smith.” When I lean in to kiss her, everyone groans. I give them the finger as I kiss Meg and enjoy the perfection of the moment.

  Megan

  Dad joins us in Miami on the day before we leave, causing a wave of giddiness over the crew. He offers to take us all golfing, but the girls pass.

  “Please, go,” I tell Ben and the guys. “We’ll find something to do without you.” I’m being sarcastic, of course, as I breathe in the ocean air. There’s the pool, the beach, shopping, pretty much anything we want to do in Miami.

  When the boys finally leave, Juliet says it first. “Thank God.”

  We’re all thinking the same thing. “I need a break from boys,” Pooja says.

  I agree, even though I don’t really need a break from Ben. “What should we do?” I ask the ladies.

  Maggie suggests manicures, Pooja wants to shop, Juliet wants to cruise South Beach, and I want to swim. We make a plan to do everything, and end up shopping and getting manicures in South Beach. When the nails dry, we head back to the beach, probably for the last time.

  “It feels strange to be here without Rocco the bodyguard,” Pooja says.

  “Of course now that the guys are gone, nobody’s trying to pick us up,” Maggie complains.

  I shut my eyes to the sun and sigh. “Let’s just enjoy this while we can. It’s only forty degrees in New Jersey right now.”

  We laze on the beach, quietly, peacefully, until the men return. Dad’s carrying some sort of fish that looks like it just came from the sea, arguing with Winston about how to grill it. When I catch Ben’s eye, I can’t help but smile.

  I look at the girls. As much as we complained about them, I can tell they’re all happy to see our guys too. Maggie doesn’t move from her chair, but the rest of us jump up to greet them.

  Later, after dinner, Dad and I sit on the deck and look at the ocean. When I was little and couldn’t get to sleep, he used to bring me on the deck to count the waves, and I’d fall asleep on his lap. “Thanks for letting my friends use the house this week.”

  He reaches for my hand. “Are you kidding? I love having them here. They’re a great group of kids.”

  I slide my chair closer to Dad’s and turn to face him. “I’ve been thinking about something.”

  “What’s up, princess?”

  I take a deep breath. “I know Penelope fucked with us.” Dad tenses hearing my mother’s name. “But I think I want to try and have a relationship with her and Brendan. Forgive her. Is that dumb? Am I being naïve?”

  Dad frowns but nods slowly. “Hmm. Maybe. But if you think it’s worth the risk, I’ll support you.”

  I jump from my chair and hug my father.

  “What’s that for?” he teases.

  “Because I love you. More than anyone,” I say and kiss his cheek. “No matter what.”

  “What about that guy?” Dad points to the beach, where Ben and Rocco are tossing a football. “More than him?”

  “Shh, don’t tell,” I say. “I’ll always be your girl first. That will be our only secret now.”

  Dad studies me, and I put on my best sweet face. “You’re full of shit,” he says. “But I’ll take it.” He watches Ben again. “His arm looks stronger. Pisser’s been tough on him.”

  “It’s paying off. He seems happy.”

  “That may have to do with you,” he says.

  I smile. Maybe it does. “Why don’t you go throw with them? Give them a memory with the great Big Joe Smith?”

  I know Dad can’t resist a football. “I love you, Amelia,” he says.

  The next day, while we’re all running around packing and cleaning up, Juliet and Maggie sit cross-legged on the deck in the morning sun.

  “Hey, lazy girls. Get your butts in here and help us,” I yell.

  Ben looks over my head to the deck.

  “We’re not moving,” Maggie says, crossing her arms over her ample chest.

  “What do you mean you’re not moving?” Ben yells.

  Juliet mimics Maggie’s posture. “We’re not going back,” Juliet says. “We’re protesting leaving.”

  Maggie nods in agreement. “We’re going to be squatters.”

  I sigh. “Listen. I understand the lure of the Miami house. You can come back anytime you want. I swear. First we have to finish our freshman year.”

  Maggie shakes her head. “No.” She and Juliet high five each other and resume protest positions.

  Ben puts his arms around me. “Does that go for us too? I want to come back here with you. Alone.”

  I sigh. “Sounds perfect.”

  When Chase joins us, we give him the update. “They don’t want to leave,” I say.

  Chase calls out to the deck. “I’m leaving, Juliet. I’d really, really, like you to come with me.”

  “Don’t you ca
ve, Juliet,” Maggie warns.

  “And you have a date with Second Floor Dave,” I yell to Maggie.

  “Nice try,” Maggie shouts. “He can come here to take me out if he’s that interested.” For some reason, I think Dave actually would come to Florida to take out his Magdalena, but I don’t tell her that.

  Chase steps past me onto the deck. “I love you, Juliet Anderson,” he says. “Come home with me?”

  “Stay strong,” Maggie says to Juliet. Then to Chase, “Get away, you… sexy city boy.”

  “It’s cold in New Jersey,” Juliet whines.

  Chase smiles. “I’ll keep you warm, gorgeous.”

  “Jules, Mags,” Ben yells. “Let’s go. Come on.”

  “Hell no, we won’t go!” Maggie chants.

  Chase leans down to whisper in Juliet’s ear, and when he bites her earlobe, she shrugs. “Sorry, Mags. Can’t pass up that offer.”

  “What? That’s not fair,” Maggie complains. “I don’t have any sex whisperers. I’m staying.”

  I yell to her. “Happy times await us at NJU, Mags. Come with us. Do you want me to sex talk you?”

  “I vote for yes on that,” Ben says, “if we can all listen.” I elbow him in the gut.

  Maggie sighs but stands and drags herself to the pile of suitcases in the kitchen. “I hate you for making me go back,” she says. “You better be right about good stuff happening.”

  I smile and know I am.

  THE END

  Acknowledgments

  Thank you for reading She Runs Away, Book 2 of the Sheridan Hall Series. I love writing these characters; you wanting to read about them motivates me to keep on doing it. Your time and support is much appreciated.

  This book is dedicated to Nicole LaRusso, my sister in spirit if not in blood, maker of the laughs, keeper of the secrets, and provider of the gossip. Thank you for being my friend.

  To the team at BookFish Books, especially awesome content editor Heather Powell, who gives me way more credit than I deserve—this book is a mess of gobbledly-gook without you. Also, Erin "Boss Lady" Rhew, amazing line editor Julia Byers, cover designer extraordinaire Anita Carroll, and all the rest of the Fish who helped with SRA. I'm so happy to be swimming in the pond with all of you.

  Thank you to Megan E. Hawkins, a wonderful writer and friend who exemplifies grace and beauty in all things life. I love her so much that I named Meg after her.

  Many thanks to Larissa Weatherall, a soon-to-be discovered writer who reads my rough drafts and encourages me with sweet texts and tons of emojis! You'll never know how much that means to me.

  To my family and to my inner circle of girlfriends, personal and professional. Thank you for believing and supporting me as I pursue this weird dream of becoming an author. You are my sanity and my crazy at the same time and I love each and every one of you.

  Last but certainly not least, many thanks to Joe and our boys for allowing me to explore a writerly life. Without your support, the whole thing crumbles. I love you (and my four-legged, late-night writing partner, Kiri, too).