“Hey,” he says, clicking the key fob and unlocking the door. He tosses his bag in the back. “What’s up?”
“I’m looking for Bea. Is she riding home with you?”
He shakes his head. “Not that she told me. I was just running home real quick to change before the meet tonight.” He checks his phone. “She didn’t text. Maybe she left with Maria?”
“Yeah. Maybe,” I run my hand through my hair and look up. “Did she say anything to you about me?”
“No.” He frowns. “Did something happen?”
In no universe did I plan on telling this to Atticus, but I’m lost. “I think she broke up with me.”
I expect him to get upset, ask me what I did wrong, blame me. He doesn’t. He just leans against the car and asks, “You think?”
“Yeah, it’s weird. She just walked across the pool and told me to go out with Sabrina tonight, like pretty much threw me at her. I mean, Sabrina’s been putting the hard press on me all summer.” I start pacing, trying to work this out. “But Bea knew this. It’s why we started—”
I clamp my mouth shut.
Atticus’ eyes narrow. “Started what?”
“Look, if you see her, just tell her I want to talk to her. Tell her I’m not going out with Sabrina tonight and I want to see her after the meet.”
“Yeah, dude, okay.”
I go back to the pool as he gets in the car, trying to quell the panic in my chest. I had no idea a girl like Bea existed—much less next door this whole time. Opening up to her had been the hardest—and easiest—thing I’ve ever done. If she thinks she can walk away like that, just end it without a discussion, then she really has no clue what she means to me.
I need to find her and can’t wait around all night for the meet to be over. They’ll just have to swim without me tonight.
I head into the office and grab my bag. I’m shoving my towel and whistle inside when Katherine appears in the doorway. She takes one look at me and starts to back out of the room. I move around her and block the door. “I saw you and Bea talking during free swim. Did she say something about me?”
She bites her bottom lip, buying time before saying, “She was freaking out about something. You and your dad. Swimming. Erin. None of it made sense.”
I fish out my car keys. “Why is she worried about all that? Everything was going good. We had it all worked out.”
“All what worked out?” Obviously keeping my mouth shut during a moment of crisis isn’t my strong suit. “What’s really going on with you two?”
“Sabrina,” I snap, tired of keeping this secret. Why should I? “Erin told me if I flirted with the members I’d get fired, but Sabrina wouldn’t leave me alone. Beatrice was mad at you and Atticus for dating and we came up with this idea that if she and I dated, it would get back at you and keep Sabrina away.”
Her eyes widen in surprise but she also nods. “Okay. Right. This make sense.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean you and Bea do not make any sense, in any realm, in any way but a crazy, hair-brained scheme to get back at Atticus. That makes sense.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Carter, dude, I can admit you two were a better couple than I thought possible, but she’s just not your kind of girl. She’s not going to follow you around just waiting for a scrap of your attention, or worse, hoping you’ll hook her up with drugs or alcohol. She’s not a user—she’s sensitive. She’s the kind of girl that if she knew you were in trouble because of her, she’d try to fix it. She probably just got overwhelmed and realized it was time to bail."
I stand in the doorway, jaw clenched. “That’s where you’re wrong. Beatrice and I may have started out as some kind of mutual-get-back-at-everyone plan, but that’s not where we ended up. Or at least it’s not where I ended up.” I swallow and look out at the pool. The volunteers are setting up, the snack bar is cooking burgers, it’s a regular summer night for everyone but me. My whole world is falling apart.
“What are you trying to say, Carter?”
I look at her. “I fell for her. Hard, and I thought she was in it with me. She said she was, but then today? She just tossed me aside.”
Katherine shakes her head. “When I talked to her she seemed upset. Confused.”
I push off the doorframe and sling my bag over my shoulder. “Well, I guess she got over it.”
“What are you going to do? Don’t you have to swim?”
“Not tonight,” I say. “I need to find her.”
“Let me know what happens, okay? Or if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” I say, heading toward the gate. The other team has shown up and suddenly the pool deck is crowded. At the gate I reach for the latch, planning to make a quick getaway, when a tall figure appears on the other side.
“Carter?”
You’ve got to be kidding. My dad and Coach Adams stand in the entry.
“What are you doing here?” I ask my coach. That’s a surprise.
“Your dad called and said he was coming tonight. I thought I’d check up on your progress.”
“Well, something’s come up. I’m not swimming tonight.”
“What?” my dad asks. “Why?”
“Personal reasons,” I say, moving to push past him. He blocks me.
“You can’t skip this meet. We had a deal. Summer swim. Summer job. No trouble.”
Anger boils under my skin, the dark kind, the stuff I haven’t felt in a long while—since L.A. “I’m not swimming,” I tell him. “You can’t make me.”
Dad’s jaw tenses and his expression darkens. Coach Adams watches from a few feet away. I’d worn him out last year, which is why I’m on this “probation.” He’d only agreed to take me on in the fall for my senior year if I got my attitude and behavior together. The problem is that I have, and no one seems to care.
“I can and will.” He nods toward the pool where the other swimmers are starting to line up. “You left in a bad way this morning and it’s obvious you’re still worked up. You may have kept your job this summer and stayed out of any major trouble, but your attitude is a problem.”
“Dad,” I say, trying to keep my voice even. “Not now.”
He nods at the bullpen for the team. “Unless you want me to make the call tonight, get everything lined up for boarding school, then you better head over to get ready to swim.”
I glare at him, wondering if he has any idea who I am underneath it all. That I’m still the lost kid that showed up on his doorstep with no mother, no family. Does he know me at all? Does he even care?
I realize that no, he probably doesn’t, and the one other person I thought knew me best has bailed on me, too.
I clench my jaw and turn, walking away from my dad and Coach Adams, toward the bullpen. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Sabrina and her friends show up. She waves to get my attention and I pretend I don’t see her. I’m trapped. Cornered. Stuck in this life that everyone else wants me to lead. I toss my bag on a chair and grab my goggles and cap, dropping my baggy trunks to reveal my swim shorts.
I push past the other kids and make my way to the starting block. Without looking at my father, at Sabrina, or daring to see if Beatrice may have come back, I dive in, submerging myself in the cool, familiar water, relenting to the pressure of being who they want and giving up on anything else.
31
Bea
I head straight home and take a shower, avoiding my mom and dad in the kitchen. They’re probably going to Atticus’ swim meet and I definitely don’t need any questions.
I’m wrapping my hair in a towel when there’s a knock on the adjoining bathroom door. “Bea open up.”
“No,” I say, not feeling like talking to him. “It’s unlocked.”
I walk into my bedroom and hear the door open behind me. I lie on the bed and Atticus walks in the room.
“What are you doing in here?” I ask. “Don’t you have some events to win?”
“Yeah, I do, but I
wanted to check on you first.”
I look at the ceiling, staring at the stupid glow-in-the-dark stars Katherine and I put up there when we were eight. “Why would you need to check on me?”
I sense him standing over me. Tears burn in my eyes. I don’t want him to see me like this.
“I talked to Carter…well, he talked to me.”
I turn away. “So?”
“So he said you broke up with him?”
I laugh. “Did you come to celebrate?”
The bed shifts, sinking under his weight.
“Hey,” he says, reaching for my hand. “What’s really going on here?”
I sit up. “You really want to know?”
“Yeah.”
“Fair warning. It’s super pathetic.”
“I can handle it.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not sure I can.” I take a deep breath and then exhale. “Carter and I, in a moment of brilliance, decided to fake a relationship to help him keep his job and for me to get back at you and Katherine for hooking up.”
He stares at me. Hard. Then blinks. “Excuse me?”
“We did. It was all fake,” I say, feeling the tears piling up again. “But it didn’t matter because I got over you and Katherine dating and Carter’s job situation got even more complicated. It was dumb. We were dumb, but it’s over now.”
“Uh, I saw you kissing. More than once. That didn’t seem fake.”
I wipe my eyes with the corner of my blanket. “Totally fake.”
“And I talked to him—he seemed pretty upset.”
“That’s just because I was supposed to give it another week.” I snort. “Since when do I follow the rules?”
Atticus gives me a wary look. “Bea, this is a lot to take in.”
“Then don’t. It’s over. It’s no big deal and Carter will get over me 'dumping' him soon enough.” I used air quotes for the dump. I know it was more than that between me and Carter—at least for a minute—but I’m not willing to admit that to Atticus. Not yet. I smile at my brother. “You and I both know there’s no way me and Carter Haines would ever really be a couple.”
His phone buzzes. Probably Katherine asking where he is. He ignores it and focuses on me. “I’m not going to lie and say that you dating Carter didn’t worry me some. I know him, and he’s spent a lot time and trouble and—”
“Stop,” I say. “I know you think you know him, but you don’t. I know him. The real him—the one he never revealed to any of you. He’s not a bad guy. His reputation…it’s exaggerated and yeah, he does have some problems, but that’s because he’s got scars that run deep.”
Atticus does something that surprises me. He reaches for me and pulls me into an awkward, brotherly hug. “It sounds like you do know him and maybe you need to think about giving him another shot.”
“I dumped him, remember?” I say, not-so-secretly wiping my nose on his shirt. He pushes me away and shakes his head.
“Katherine and I will come right home after the meet. Wait up for us, okay?”
I nod. He places his hand on my head and ruffles it, like he’s actually my big brother or something.
He leaves me alone and I reach for my Photobooth Society graphic novel, burrowing in under the covers. The moment is familiar, something I would have done on any other summer night before I tangled up with Carter Haines. As much as I want to find comfort, I just feel loss.
I expected a lot of things when I made this agreement with Carter, but feeling like this wasn’t one of them.
32
Carter
Fighting against my defiant streak, I put my hurt into my races, tearing down the lanes at my best speeds. It’s not for my dad or Coach Adams, although they’ll think it is. This is always where I’ve channeled my anger and rage. If I’m lucky, it will siphon off the energy. If not?
That’s where the trouble comes in.
In the final relay of the night, I start the final leg four lengths behind the swimmer in the lane next to me. By the flip turn I’ve cut that down to two, midway I sense the body next to me, struggling to keep his lead. It’s pointless. I’m actually that good. When I reach for the wall, touching my full hand against the stone, a wave of water follows me, and when I stand, my team, including Atticus, offer me congratulations. It doesn’t matter. There’s only one person I want here with me and she’s gone. I’m used to that feeling. It used to be my mother.
Now it’s Beatrice.
The pain of loss slides easily back in place.
I see a headful of shiny blonde hair and a perfectly white smile.
Bad habits do too.
“Carter!” Sabrina rushes over and without warning, gives me a tight celebratory hug. “That was amazing. I’d heard you were good, but that…now I know what my father sees in you.”
I blink, wondering why her father talks about me, but her hands are warm on my biceps and her eyes welcoming and alluring. I’ve resisted her all summer and that wave of defiance I’d pushed against all night—for weeks—presses against the dam of self-control, finally knocking a chunk loose.
“You want to go to that party at the beach?” she asks, looking at me under her eyelashes.
“Yeah,” I say. “I do. Let me go change.”
I grab my bag, pass my coach, ignore my father and head into the locker room. When I come back out, the new Carter Haines will be gone and back in place will be the Carter Haines everyone wants me to be.
The music pulsing from down on the beach leads the way to the bonfire. There are a few of these a year and I’ve been to them all, usually lurking in the shadows, playing the role of drug dealer, troubled loner, guy with a hot girl on my arm.
I’ve pulled in the parking lot, a few feet from the Corner Market. I avert my eyes from the spot where Bea and I randomly met that fateful day. Talk about making a deal with the devil.
“I really love your car,” Sabrina says from the passenger seat. Her fingers run over the leather seat cushions. “How fast does it go?”
I think of Bea behind the wheel, rolling two miles an hour in the school parking lot, yet still endangering our lives. My eyes land on the bag of jaw breakers.
That girl is everywhere. I need a cleanse. A purge. Without replying to Sabrina, I snatch them up and exit the car. I head up to the Market, dropping the bag of candy in the trash and pushing through the doors. At the counter, I buy a pack of cigarettes and the cashier raises an eyebrow when she sees me. “You haven’t come in for a while.”
I’d gotten her number that day I talked to Bea outside and promptly forgot. “Yeah, I’ve been busy with work and stuff.”
She pushes the package across the counter, her fingernails sparkly pink. “Well, don’t be a stranger.”
I toss my money on the counter and pocket the cigarettes.
“I won’t,” I say, giving her a wink. She smiles in return and the feeling of control, of the familiar, brings a surge of comfort that I’ve been missing. It’s only amplified when I walk outside and find Sabrina waiting for me, leaning against my car in her short-shorts and halter-top. Her shoes are heels—stupid for the sand but they make her legs look great.
Not as great as Bea’s, but—
I rub my head and groan. I’ve got to stop.
“Something wrong?”
“Just a headache.”
She makes a pouty, sympathetic face. She links her arm with mine. “Come on, I can help you feel better.”
And because I’m weak, lost, and confused, I let her lead the way.
33
Bea
As Carter once said, I may have an acute case of “stubbornitis.” That’s what propels me out of the house the next morning and into my brother’s car. I try to force my eyes away from the Mustang next door, the Mustang I heard rolling in past 1 a.m., the Mustang I’d ridden in every day for the last three and a half weeks.
Atticus and Katherine invited me to go to the Creamery for a post-meet celebration with them the night before but I’d begged off, saying I
was tired. The look they shared told me they both knew the truth about my fake relationship with Carter and instead of either of them being angry, I saw the shade of pity, which was worse. I’d known better than to get involved with Carter Haines, but the real issue was he maybe should have known better than to get involved with me. I may be the toxic one.
We stop on the way to work to pick up Katherine, who bounds out of the house looking tired after her long shift at the meet the night before.
“Hey,” she says, sliding in the front seat. I’d moved to the back once we got to her house.
“Morning,” Atticus says, leaning over the console to kiss her. For the first time, I don’t feel the spark of anger and betrayal. Just a sense of longing. Break-ups stink.
I part from them in the parking lot, rushing in to avoid any sort of interaction if Carter showed up at the same time. It’s like the beginning of summer all over again, but now I’m avoiding the boy next door, not my best friend. Maybe I am the one with the problem?
I head to the yoga room, where the kids are dropped off in the morning. They come in bleary-eyed and tired—many having been up late at the meet. Maria greets them all at the door while I sort their bags. Once the yoga instructor shows up, Maria pulls me aside and whispers, “So yesterday I thought you were being crazy, dumping Carter like that, but girl, now I get it. I totally get it. What a jerk.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, trying to follow.
“Did he really think no one would find out? I mean, you’ve got friends here too, Bea. Don’t forget that.”
She’s waving her hands and her voice rises, causing the yoga instructor to shoot her a warning glare. I grab her by the arm and drag her outside the doors. “Maria,” I say, holding her brown eyes, “spill.”
“Hippie Sam told me he saw Carter leave the meet last night with Sabrina. Then later he was down at McKoy beach and saw them together.” She gives me a knowing look.
Bea and the Bad Boy: Young Adult Sweet Romance (Love in Ocean Grove Book 3) Page 15
