by Marta Brown
Andrew stands up and blocks Gregory from staring, applying more sun screen to his arms casually. Best brother ever.
“So, you sailing today?” Andrew asks, assessing the outfit and deducing as much.
“A quick jaunt out, but I’ll be back in time for the bonfire,” he answers Andrew before he turns his attention back to me. “Would you like to join me?”
Andrew shrugs. “Sorry, man, we have dinner with the ‘rents tonight, but thanks for the invite,” he says. “Oh hey, did you get out of there last night before the cops showed up?”
“Yeah, but your new friend didn’t fare so well,” he says with an arrogant laugh.
Andrew’s eyes narrow. “Dude, I’m not sure what your deal is with him, but he’s cool. He’s going to Yale in the fall, and I’m thinking he might just be Wolf material, so lay off.”
“You can’t be serious?” Gregory says incredulously. “He’s not one of us.”
“I’m totally serious. So stop and I mean it.”
I don’t know much about the Wolf’s Head, it’s called a secret society for a reason, but I assume, by the way Greg is suddenly silenced, Andrew must carry seniority. The tension rolls off both of them until Andrew breaks the standoff by taking a sip of his drink and smiling.
“Well, I guess we’ll see you at the bonfire tonight then?” Andrew asks his posture carefree and casual again, making it clear he’s moving on from whatever that just was.
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” Gregory says before leaving without another word, his fists balled up tight.
“Sometimes that guy…” I hear Andrew say under his breath, taking the words right out of my mouth.
…
The party is already in full swing when we arrive. At least two dozen guys and girls mill around the private beach while music plays softly and twinkle lights hang above tables covered with catered hors d'oeuvres.
I stare at the flames of the bonfire while they flicker and dance, breaking through the dark with bright oranges, yellows and reds. The popping and crackling can barely be heard above the laughter of everyone surrounding the fire with sunburned shoulders and smiles on their faces. Bonfire parties are always my favorite.
“Ashley!” A girl squeals. Hailey Newhall, one of my closest girlfriends on the island, stands on the other side of the fire enthusiastically waving me over.
I smile as I make my way over to her, excited to see her again too.
“O.M.G. Ashley! How are you? I’ve missed you so much!” Hailey throws her arms around my neck.
“I’m great, Hales, how are you? How’s New York?”
“Same as ever.” She waves the question off, then without missing a beat, launches into her favorite subject: Gregory Chase. “Have you seen him?” Hailey animatedly fans her face with her hand. “So gorge.” A few girls standing around us giggle in agreement.
“Yeah, I’ve seen him a few times,” I say, unwittingly gaining the attention of the Gregory Chase fan club. Oops.
“That’s what I heard. My mom said she saw you two having lunch at the club yesterday and said you looked ‘quite cozy’ at the party last night. Her words, not mine. So? Are you and he back together?” Hailey tries to act casual, but I can tell she’s dying for the answer.
I choke on the fruity cocktail I’m sipping and have to cough to clear my throat. “No. Not at all. We just had lunch…as friends.” A look of relief, and hope, washes over Hailey’s face.
“Really?” Hailey glances at the other girls and then back to me.
“Promise. And you know, Hales, if you wanted to go out with him I wouldn’t be upset, I swear.” Who am I to stop them? Just because he wasn’t right for me, doesn’t mean he won’t be right for her. This elicits another hug from Hailey before she and a girl I recognize from the club, but don’t know very well, begin to jump up and down squealing with excitement. I can’t help but laugh.
All of a sudden, like Gregory can sense a gaggle of girls fawning all over him, he saunters over, drink in hand and a cocky smile on his face. It’s obvious he’s already had a couple of drinks and is on the prowl.
“How are all of you lovely ladies doing this fine evening?” He drapes his arms around Hailey, and her friend’s shoulders causing both girls to giggle, but his eyes are locked on me.
Ugh.
I glance around looking for an escape when I spot Lane walking up the beach. Perfect.
“I’ll be back.” With a smile and a wave I head in Lane’s direction.
His head is down as he crosses the private section of the beach, staying close to the water’s edge but avoiding the moving tide.
“Lane,” I call out over the noise of the party and the waves, but he doesn’t seem to hear me, so I call his name again, this time louder. “Hey, Lane.” He glances up and scans the party, squinting before finally seeing me. A smile flashes across his face. I smile back as I approach him, my flip flops kicking up sand behind me.
“Hi,” I say. My drink, mostly untouched, sloshes and spills over the lip of the cup when I stop in front of him.
“Looks like you’re having fun.” He nods at my drink and then up at the party.
“I actually just got here too. I’m glad you came.” I feel my cheeks heat up, and I’m relieved it’s dark enough that he can’t see. “I think Andrew’s around here somewhere.” I look over my shoulder trying to locate him to point Lane in the right direction.
“Ah, no thanks. I think I’ll steer clear of your kind of parties,” he says, shoving his hands in the pockets of his cargo shorts.
“What do you mean my kind of parties?”
“Nothing, never mind.” He kicks at the sand and looks uncomfortable.
“Oh no.” I cover my mouth with my hand, remembering Gregory had implied Lane may have been caught by the police at the bluffs last night. “Did you get in trouble last night when the cops showed up?”
“Yeah, thanks to your boyfriend,” he says with a sneer that makes me take a step back.
My boyfriend?
“I’m not sure what his deal is, but he’s a serious dick.” Lane’s jaw is tight, and there’s not a hint of joking in his tone.
“Gregory?” I ask wide eyed. Why would he think Gregory is my boyfriend? I have a flash of Greg and I at lunch together looking very much like a couple and then again at the bluffs when he gave me his coat, something a boyfriend would do. Oh.
“He is definitely not my boyfriend,” I say seriously. “He’s my ex, if you can even call it that. We dated for like a second, but it was never very serious.” Why am I telling him all this? Stop rambling, Ashley. I dig my toes into the sand. “But you’re right about one thing. He is a dick.” I give Lane a playful grin and watch the light from the bonfire bounce off his features as his jaw loosens and a tentative smile spreads across his face.
From a distance, I hear Gregory’s voice, and when I glance over my shoulder, he’s stumbling our direction, obviously drunk and completely uninvited.
“Speak of the devil.” I roll my eyes and that makes Lane smile bigger.
“The rest of the staff is over there,” Gregory slurs, pointing to the tent where the cater waiters are busy putting out more hors d'oeuvres. Lane ignores his snide remark, never taking his eyes off of me.
“It was nice seeing you again, but I gotta go,” Lane says and I’m immediately disappointed that he’s leaving.
“Are you sure?” I look down at my feet and try to garner enough nerve to ask him not to go. “Stay,” I say so softly it comes out as more of a whisper when I look back up at him.
He peers over his shoulder across the small peninsula to the lighthouse then back at me. “I’m sorry I can’t… I…I have to work.” He looks genuinely disappointed, and I wonder if he knows I am too. “But hopefully I’ll see you around, okay?” He gives me a smile that makes my knees go weak before taking off down the beach. In the faint light coming off of the fire, I see him glance back at me before he cuts across the sandy peninsula and disappears into the shadows of tal
l sea grass.
Wait. Didn’t he say he had to work? Why is he going to the lighthouse? I can’t focus long on where Lane went when I feel Gregory’s arms wrap around my waist from behind. He nuzzles his face in my hair at the base of my neck, and his breath smells like hard liquor and pot.
“Now that he’s gone, I have you all to myself.”
I whip my body around and pull out of his arms. “Gregory. Stop.” I scan the crowd for Andrew when Gregory steps in front of me preventing my escape.
“You know we were good together,” he slurs, his breath stinging my eyes. He leans forward and takes my face in his hands, ready to kiss me, but I shove him away before he can. How obvious do I need to be for him to stop his advances?
“Gregory, I’m sorry, but I don’t like you like that anymore.” I try to keep my voice low so no one can hear. I want to be frank, not cruel. “I really need you to stop flirting with me and acting like we’re still together. It’s starting to make me uncomfortable. Can we please just agree to be friends and leave it at that?” I ask as nice as possible, not wanting to cause a scene. Gregory takes a small step backwards, his smirk falling flat and I’m afraid I may have been too blunt. “I’m sorry, Greg,” I start to say when he takes an unexpected step forward, his shoulders thrown back and his eyes narrowed at me. I take a step back cautiously.
“Who do you think you are?” He speaks so slow and deliberate that I’m no longer afraid I’ve hurt his feelings, now I’m just afraid. “I’m. Gregory. Chase.” He takes another step forward. “Little Miss Perfect thinks she’s too good for me? But you’ll slum it with some local loser. You’re such a tease. Always have been, always will be,” he says, spitting the insult at me.
I gasp at his biting words. I feel a rush of adrenaline flood my body. If he intended to tear me down, he failed. The only thing he’s accomplished is pissing me off.
That’s it.
I’ll show him ‘little miss perfect’.
I step forward, fury tightening every muscle in my body, and this time he’s the one who takes a cautious step backwards but not far enough as I pull my hand back and let it fly, slapping Gregory Chase right across the face. Hard.
Fuming, I turn on my heels to leave, but I’m abruptly stopped when he grabs me by my arm and swings me around to face him. The look on his face replaces my bright red anger with pitch black fear.
“You. Bitch.”
Chapter 7
Lane
He’s not her boyfriend.
I shake my head to clear my mind before I steal one last glance over my shoulder at her as I walk away, but it’s on a loop, and it’s all I can think. He’s not her boyfriend.
I shake my head again, this time to snap myself out of it. There’s no way a girl like that would go for a guy like me anyway. Would she? I shut my eyes and replay the way she looked at me through her long dark lashes, softly asking me to stay, causing my stomach to knot.
“He’s not her boyfriend,” I say out loud at the door of the lighthouse. I pull my keys from my pocket as the sounds of the party float through the otherwise quiet night, and I feel a stupid grin spread across my face despite the rude remarks I just got from that ass-hat Gregory. Seriously, when will the ‘help’ jokes get old?
“Let go. You’re hurting me,” a girl yelps from down the beach. I spin around and from the light coming off the bonfire I can see Gregory’s hand is wrapped around Ashley’s arm, and she’s wincing in pain.
Without a thought, I drop my keys to the ground and take off running, reaching them in seconds. “Let her go,” I yell. My fists ball tight, ready to make him if I have to.
“Mind your own business, loser,” Gregory snarls back as he jerks Ashley by the arm eliciting another cry.
“Lane,” Ashley says, struggling against his grip, fear on her face.
I lunge forward and grab Gregory’s arm, yanking him away from her with a force that surprises even me. “I said Let. Her. Go.”
Ashley falls to the ground when Gregory releases his hold. I kneel down and brush the hair from her face as she rubs her arm in pain.
“Are you okay?” I search for signs of injury as adrenaline pounds in my veins.
“I’m fine. I promise,” she says, our eyes locked with one another. “Thank you.”
“Come to save the damsel in distress,” Gregory says in a patronizing tone, looking down his nose at me. Convinced Ashley’s alright; I jump up and face him. He’s poised and ready for a fight, and that makes two of us. “You do know the peasant doesn’t get the girl, right? The prince does.”
I can’t stop the laugh that comes out of me. “Are you serious right now?” Who does this guy think he is? “Dude, when a girl is screaming to be let go, it’s a pretty good indicator that she doesn’t want you, prince or not.”
I hear a light snickering from behind me before I see that a small crowd has gathered around and is watching us intently. I’m surprised they haven’t all started chanting ‘fight’ by the way they look on like we’re simply the entertainment for the evening.
I turn back to Gregory and out of the corner of my eye I see Ashley talking to her brother, and he looks pissed. Join the club.
“You know what? She can slum it all she wants with you. She’s nothing but an uptight frigid tease anyway. Good luck getting into her pants.” Gregory wears an arrogant smirk, his arms crossed leisurely across his chest like he’s just landed a fatal blow.
My vision goes red. He’s about to find out exactly how a real blow feels. To the face.
I lunge at him, and we both go flying to the ground. He gets a quick hit to my gut that I barely feel before I pull back and punch him square in the nose so hard that the onlookers gasp at the cracking sound it makes. With so much adrenaline pumping through my veins, I’m not sure if it was his face or my hand that made the sickening sound, but I don’t care.
He spits saliva and blood at me after getting to his feet. I move in for another blow, but he lands a punch to my face, busting open my lip. The metallic taste of blood fills my mouth, and it spurs me on.
“Is that all you got?” I prod, swiping my thumb across my bloody lip. He can’t resist the taunt and comes at me again. Wedged in-between his fingers, like a set of claws or makeshift brass knuckles, I see the jagged teeth of car keys sticking out and I easily evade his swing, sparing my face from being shredded. Damn this guy fights dirty. I get two more swift shots in, one to his ribs and the other to his jaw before he and I are abruptly pulled away from one another.
Andrew holds me back for a second then lets me go when I don’t resist. I dust the sand off then wipe my lip on my sleeve, never taking my eyes off Gregory who’s being held back as well.
A trickle of blood pours from his crooked nose. It definitely looks broken from my vantage point, and a large bruise is already forming on his jaw.
“Apologize to her. Now,” I demand.
He jerks himself free from his friend’s grip. “You just made the biggest mistake of your life,” he says, laughing and spitting blood into the sand. “Big, big mistake,” he threatens, before stalking off.
My breath is labored when I turn around to face Andrew and Ashley, and I’m relieved they don’t look mad that I’ve beat up their friend and ruined their party. Well, Andrew looks mad, but not at me. He’s shooting daggers into Greg’s retreating back.
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I just…he was hurting you,” I finish. It’s the only explanation I can give because it’s the only one that’s true.
“No, don’t apologize,” she says. “I’m the one who’s sorry. Are you okay?”
I take a quick assessment of myself and conclude I’m fine. I open and close my fist to make sure it’s not broken. It’s not, and now I’m certain the cracking noise I heard when I clocked Gregory came from him and not me. That gives me a little more joy than it probably should.
“I’m fine,” I say even though my lip is throbbing. I wonder if I need stitches.
“Dude. That was so awesome,�
�� Andrew says, returning with a napkin filled with ice. “If I’d seen him grab Ash I would have done the same thing.” He claps me on the shoulder and gives Ashley a brotherly look. “Thanks, man.”
I nod. Everyone is back around the fire now that the show is over, and in all the commotion I had completely forgot about work. I look over at the lighthouse and see Rusty standing outside the door. “Oh crap. I have to go.” I give Ashley one last look before taking off back down the beach without so much as a goodbye. The last thing I need is losing another job because of Gregory Chase.
“Lane, where have you been?” Rusty asks. He drops his old fashion watch into his pocket and sighs.
“I’m so sorry, Rus. I had a…friend…who was in trouble.” He looks over my face carefully and then with the attitude of an old man who’s been in his own fair share of fights he grins.
“Well, I sure hope the other guy looks worse than you do, son.” He hands me the keys I dropped and gives me a hearty laugh as he shuffles by. “Kids,” he says, shaking his head with a smile. “Goodnight, Lane.”
“Night, Rus.”
I shut the salt rusted door to the light house behind me and attempt to take a deep breath, now that my adrenaline has leveled out some, but it’s hard after the jab I took to my side. I climb the narrow metal grate stairs, all one hundred and forty five steps to the top slowly, wincing a little while I do. I should have taken the ice from Andrew before I took off. Stupid.
As I sit down at the small desk and prop my feet up. I flinch in pain when I touch my swollen lip. The blood has dried, and it’s tender to the touch, but I don’t think I’ll need stitches.
The light house is quiet, and I’m just about to get my heartbeat back to normal when I close my eyes and hear Gregory’s threat ringing in my ears, ‘you just made the biggest mistake of your life’. I try to clear my mind, but a slight panic starts to rise in me. What if his threat isn’t an empty one? What if he presses charges? The thought of being arrested again and seeing the disappointment on my mom’s face for a second time in two days slowly turns my worry into a complete and total panic attack until I hear the door creak open below, echoing through the empty stairwell.
