Beach Town Bad Boy: A Briarwood High Novella

by Dallen, Maggie

  Beach Town Bad Boy

  A Briarwood High Novella

  Maggie Dallen

  Copyright © 2019 by Maggie Dallen

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Images © LightField Studios & DepositPhotos – hydromet

  Cover Design © Designed with Grace

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Epilogue

  Tall, Dark, and Nerdy

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Eleanor

  Was it my imagination or was Deacon’s house not nearly as welcoming as I’d remembered?

  I stopped in front of his small, white-clapboard home, which was squashed in between two other nearly identical houses. The whole street was lined with these cookie-cutter tiny houses that made up most of Sterling Beach’s south side. It was like the city planners had gone out of their way to make this side of town a total contrast to the giant homes and sprawling lawns that lined the north side’s coastline.

  The north side was where my family always stayed. For at least a month each summer since I was a little girl, my parents and I had stayed at our summer home. Three summers ago they’d sold it and we hadn’t been back since.

  And maybe I shouldn’t have come back now.

  That nagging doubt had been there when I’d hopped into my car and headed south toward Virginia early this morning, and it hadn’t gone away in the hours since.

  This was a mistake.

  I eyed the overgrown lawn and the peeling paint, the Keep Out sign that hung haphazardly from the chain-link fence. The sign was overkill because nothing about this house said Welcome.

  Maybe it never had.

  I bit my lip as I eyed the house one more time. My memory might not have been perfect, but Deacon’s home definitely hadn’t been this…unfriendly the last time I was here.

  I remembered it being small but cozy, warm and welcoming. His mother had always greeted me with a smile when I’d shown up on my hot pink bike to play.

  Play. The childish word made me smile and it helped to ease some of the anxiety that’d had me in its grip all morning. This house was where I’d come to play. I don’t even remember the day that I’d met Deacon on the beach. My parents informed me that I was in diapers. What I did remember were the countless lazy afternoons in the sun and the rainy days spent playing board games and Nintendo in this little house.

  My tension faded drastically after that trip down memory lane. Sure, the house might’ve fallen into disrepair but this was still Deacon’s home and his mom had always said that it was my home too.

  Besides, at first glance it might’ve seemed different, but some things would never change. We were ten blocks away from the beach but the salty smell of the ocean was there in the breeze, and seagulls’ squawks broke the silence. I took a step forward and undid the latch on the fence before the nagging voice of doubt could return.

  I’d no sooner placed my hand on the gate when the front door opened and a guy with a five o’clock shadow and a baseball cap squinted at me from behind the screen. “What do you want?”

  I froze at the animosity in his tone.

  He took a sip from the can in his hand as he studied me. “Are you selling cookies or something?”

  I blinked in surprise, but I ignored the question. Beneath the brim of his hat I could make out his features and I recognized him. “Jason?”

  He stilled, his can halfway up to his mouth. Without a word, he opened the screen door and peered at me. Muttering a curse under his breath he took another step until he was standing on the porch. “Ellie?”

  His tone was pure shock, and not necessarily in a good way. But he’d called me Ellie. No one called me that anymore. The use of my childhood nickname brought a fresh wave of nostalgia and made me feel slightly less awkward. At least he remembered me, right?

  I raised a hand and gave Deacon’s older brother a little wave. “Hi, Jason.”

  He stared at me in silence.

  This was definitely not how I’d envisioned my homecoming to Sterling Beach. I certainly hadn’t imagined seeing Jason again. Truth be told, I’d kind of forgotten about him. He was a few years older than me and Deacon and had never been around all that much when we were kids. He’d been off with his own friends and hadn’t had much time for us.

  Still, he’d always been fairly nice to me. Friendly, even. Which made his current blank stare that much more unnerving. He gave his head a little shake. “Ellie, what are you doing here?”

  “I, uh…” My mouth grew dry as I realized I had no answer. None. What was I doing here? Great question. That was the question of the day, actually, even for me.

  His eyes were still narrowed in confusion, as the sight of me standing there at his front gate was some sort of riddle he was expected to solve. Any confidence I’d felt because of our shared history disappeared. “Is, uh…Is Deacon home?”

  His lips twitched up a bit at the corners like I’d said something amusing. “Deacon?” He shifted so he was leaning against the doorframe but he still didn’t invite me in. “You’re here to see Deacon?”

  The way he said Deacon’s name was weird, like I’d mispronounced it or something.

  I nodded, uncertain of why this was so amusing to him. But then again, maybe my being here was just as crazy as I’d feared. So crazy, it was laughable.

  In my defense, I was supposed to be heading to Virginia this week. My best friend Blake was hosting me and a handful of our other friends at her family’s beach house in Virginia City, which was only an hour away.

  Of course, Blake and the others weren’t driving down there for a few days yet so I was on my own for now.

  On my own in a beach town and no one knew I was here. Well, Blake would know when she got my messages. I’d told my parents that Blake and I were heading down early to get ready for the others. I’d lied. But Blake would cover for me on the off chance that my mother checked up on us.

  She wouldn’t. My mother trusted me, and she also tended to be too distracted by her own life to worry too much about mine. As for my father, he left the parenting up to my mother. He loved me—they both did—they just weren’t terribly involved. Which was fine, really. I didn’t need them hovering over me. I was responsible and reliable and…

  And somehow I’d ended up alone in a town where I only had one friend—a friend I hadn’t spoken to in three years.

  My image of being super responsible was definitely going to take a hit for this one. I mean, what soon-to-be high school senior ran away? What student council member, and honor-roll student jumped in her car and drove with zero planning?

  This was stupid. This had been such a dumb idea.

  As I mentally berated myself, Jason tilted his head to study me. “Deacon’s at work.”

  It was then that I realized I’d been standing there in silence for too long. Mentally freaking out on a former friend’s lawn like some psycho. I forced a big smile that probably didn’t help my psycho vibe. “Will he be home soon?”

  “No.”

  That was it. No. Just no. Okay, then. Apparently, Jason hadn’t grown nicer over the years.

  “Does Deacon still work at the games
on the boardwalk?”

  He hitched up one eyebrow in cynical amusement that seemed to be at my expense. “No.” He drew the word out like he was talking to a moron, and maybe he was. Of course Deacon didn’t run games anymore. Deacon was seventeen now, soon to be eighteen, and he’d graduated high school this past spring. Of course he’d be doing something different.

  “Where does he—”

  “Max’s.” Jason took a sip of his drink.

  Max’s. I remembered the place—it was a club. A music venue. It might’ve been an all-ages club but even so, we’d been too young to go there when Deacon and I were hanging out. I wondered what he did at Max’s and what time he’d be done, but Jason hardly seemed forthcoming with information. Maybe I’d caught him at a bad time.

  I tried to look past him into the house but it was too dark inside to see anything. “Is your mom—”

  “No.” His expression grew grim and he started to head back inside. “You’ve been gone a while, Ellie. Didn’t think we’d ever see you again.”

  That was it. He shut the door without saying goodbye and before I had a chance to reply.

  Well…that was rude.

  I realized belatedly that my hand was still on the fence and I was still hovering half in and half out so I backed out, the creaking gate seeming to mock me as I stood there in the late afternoon sunshine wondering what on earth I was supposed to do now.

  My feet seemed to have more sense than my brain because I found myself walking toward the boardwalk. Toward the cheap motels where I could find a place to stay.

  Toward Max’s.

  I just checked into a motel called the Sunshine Inn about two blocks away from the boardwalk and just down the street from Max’s on Main Street. I’d just set my little carry-on suitcase on the motel room bed when I got a call from Blake.

  “Girl, are you insane?”

  I flinched as I pulled the phone away from my ear. Blake might’ve been my best friend but even I could admit that diplomacy was not her strong suit. Our personalities were pretty much night and day. While she was all aggressive and blunt, I tended to be soft spoken and avoided confrontation like the plague. While she had a bit of a mean-girl image that may or may not have been warranted, I was known for being kind. Sweet, actually. That was how I always heard myself described—by Blake, by my ex-boyfriend-turned-friend Lucas, by Lucas’s girlfriend-turned-my-friend Lola. Even my ex, Ryan, who had not become my friend after our breakup, I’d even heard him refer to me as “a sweetheart” the other day at a party.

  Sweetheart. That was just another way of saying sweet. Ugh, sometimes I hated that word. When others said sweet, I heard simpering. Ingratiating. Weak.

  Maybe that wasn’t how people meant it. It was possible I was just overly sensitive these days.

  “Helloooo?” Blake shouted at me through the phone. “Are you there?”

  I sighed. Or maybe I’d just spent too many years being yelled at by my bestie. “I’m here.”

  “What were you thinking?” she demanded.

  I held back another weary sigh. Apparently Blake had just gotten my texts from earlier in the day. She didn’t wait for a reply and I was guessing her question was rhetorical. “Wait right there,” she said. “Trevor and I will come and pick you up.”

  Trevor was her boyfriend and he rarely had a say in Blake’s plans, but this I couldn’t allow. “I don’t need you and Trevor to—”

  “You’re alone,” she interrupted. “And in a strange town.”

  I took a deep breath and struggled to keep my patience. “It’s not a strange town,” I said. “I practically grew up here. My family came here every summer.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “And I’m not alone,” I lied. The empty motel room seemed to mock me as the words echoed off the peeling plaster.

  Blake was oddly silent. “You’re not?”

  I remained quiet. It was one thing to lie once, I wasn’t sure I was up for a repeat.

  “Who went with you?” Suspicion laced her tone. “Did you and Ryan get back together? I thought you said that was done.”

  “It is done,” I said quickly. Good gracious, I couldn’t have her spreading the rumor that Ryan and I were a thing again. We’d split up earlier this spring for good after giving it multiple shots. Each time was a bigger mistake than the last.

  “I know you aren’t playing third wheel with Lola and Lucas,” she said, more to herself than to me.

  I rolled my eyes. Of course I wasn’t. I might be friends with my ex and his girlfriend, but that didn’t mean I wanted to watch the two of them swooning over each other morning, noon, and night.

  They went out of their way to include me when we were all together but there was no denying the connection between them or the way they lit up when they were in the same room together. Quite frankly, it was kind of depressing to be around them because no one had ever looked at me that way. No one had ever made me feel that way.

  “I’m here to visit an old friend,” I said.

  “Oh,” Blake said, sounding a little deflated. “Really?”

  “Mmhmm.” This was only a partial lie. When I set out this morning I’d had this crazy urge to be back in this place. But the closer I got to Sterling Beach, the more I realized that what I’d really wanted was to see Deacon. Don’t ask me why because I wasn’t even sure myself.

  All I did know was that this past year had done a number on me, and as school let out last week and everyone made plans for the summer, I’d realized that I had no plans. Not for this summer, and not for next year. Forget about anything beyond that, I couldn’t even figure out what I wanted to eat for lunch these days.

  I wasn’t always this way. Once upon a time I’d had it all figured out, and then… And then, what?

  I didn’t know.

  I’d gotten lost, I guess. I took a wrong turn, or…maybe it wasn’t even that simple. Maybe I’d made lots of little decisions that led me off course, but the end result was the same. I didn’t know who I was anymore, or where I was going.

  The present was confusing, the future was murky… All I really knew for certain was where I’d been. Last night as I’d lain in bed listening to my parents fight in the other room, I’d been overcome with this crazy urge to run. Not forwards, but backwards. I guess I thought if I could turn back the clock, maybe I could figure out when exactly everything had started to fall apart.

  When had I wandered so far off the path that I couldn’t even see it anymore? I’d lain there for hours trying to think of a time when I’d felt certain about anything. The last time I’d felt like me.

  It had come to me in a rare moment of clarity. The last time I’d felt that way had been here, in Sterling Beach…with Deacon.

  “Who’s this friend?” Blake asked, suspicion clear in her tone. Not surprisingly, I guess, since I’d never once talked to her about Deacon. Not for any bad reason—it wasn’t like I thought she’d judge him or our friendship, or anything. Despite her pushy demeanor, Blake really was a good friend.

  I hadn’t told her about him because Deacon was mine. Our friendship had meant the world to me growing up and a big part of that was because it was just between me and him. I’d liked it that way. Our time together held a special place in my heart. When we were together, we were in a world of our own—a place out of time where there was no backstabbing, no misunderstandings, no awkward guy-girl tension, and no popularity contests.

  Our friendship was pure. Simple.

  It was perfect.

  Or it had been until it ended. But I guess that was to be expected, right? I mean, long-distance friendships weren’t exactly easy to maintain, especially when both parties were too young to have a driver’s license.

  But now I was back. I straightened on the saggy bed and gripped the phone tighter in my hand as Blake bombarded me with questions about this friend she’d never heard of before.

  “Look, Blake, I appreciate your concern, but I promise you have nothing to worry about, okay? I’ll m
eet you, Trevor, and the others at your family’s beach house on Monday like we’d planned, okay?”

  She sniffed and I knew that was her grudging consent. Say what you will about Blake but the girl always had my back. I could safely say she worried about me more than my own parents.

  Depressing? Perhaps. It didn’t exactly say much for my parents. But it was also kind of nice. I didn’t have many people in my life who cared as much as Blake, and I appreciated it.

  “I’ll cover if your mom calls,” she said. “But if you don’t check in over the next few days I’m sending Trevor to find you.”

  “Understood,” I said. But I was already standing, heading toward the bathroom to freshen up so I could go find Deacon. Just thinking about our former friendship brought back the original excitement that had me leaping into the car this morning with zero forethought.

  Blake finally let me go and I got ready, taking extra time to brush out my long blonde hair and apply some mascara and blush to try and make it look like I hadn’t spent the better part of my day in my car, drinking coffee and eating drive-thru fast food.

  With a little smile at my reflection to bolster my confidence, I headed out into the early evening, inhaling deeply as the salty air hit my face and made my smile grow.

  I’d totally shaken off my earlier doubts, along with the memory of Jason’s rude greeting and Blake’s prying questions. What I’d told her was true…mainly. I’d come here to see a friend. There wasn’t anything weird about that. And Jason might not have been over the moon to see me, but he wasn’t my friend. Deacon was. And he’d be glad to have me around.

  I took my time walking down Main Street as I made my way to Max’s, marveling at how little it had changed. The 24-hour Star Diner was still there, and so was Aunt Mary’s Pie Shop. Each place I passed brought with it a flood of memories and I reveled in them as I walked. Every memory involved Deacon in some way or another, and I found myself remembering details about him, about specific incidents…like the time we’d hosted our very own pie eating contest at Aunt Mary’s. We were the only contestants and it ended in a stomach ache for the ages.