“I’m just an intern, but I hope to do more this year.”
“Well, you kids have fun,” he said, finally releasing us to greet a group of adults who’d just entered behind us.
“Thanks,” I said.
We left, and Julian watched behind us for a second.
“What?” My brows pulled together. “What’s wrong?”
“He sure was interested in my mom,” he said quietly, turning back. “You don’t think he could be the guy…”
I almost laughed. “Mr. Brennan? C’mon, Julian. He’s married.”
We continued walking through the Mexican-inspired resort. I couldn’t help but remember the trip it was modeled after.
“It would explain all the sneaking around.”
I stopped, shaking my head. “No. It is not Mr. Brennan.”
He turned to face me, frowning. “How would you know? He said he knew my mom way back. Maybe he’s my dad.”
“He knew her because they worked together,” I said. “Your imagination is running wild. Besides, you look nothing like Brad.”
He grabbed a drink off a passing tray. I quickly checked to be sure the server hadn’t noticed. “Mom says I look like her dad,” he said, taking a sip.
“No help there.” I couldn’t believe he didn’t see how much he looked like Mr. Kyser. But I guessed if he wasn’t looking for it…
“Julian! Glad you’re here. I might need protecting.” Brad walked up with Rachel right beside him. The boys clapped hands.
“I’m off that gig,” Julian laughed. “Do your own blocking. I can barely move.”
I stepped over to Rachel and pretended not to notice Brad and Julian lifting two more drinks off passing trays. I was driving us home, it appeared.
“I’ve never been so happy about a basketball game,” I giggled.
“No joke. The fans led the cheers tonight. It was great. Everybody was into it.”
“Julian thinks it was all a stunt.” I scanned the room for familiar faces.
“Brad said the same thing,” she said, picking a fruit kebab out of a passing drink. I laughed, thinking how confused the servers were probably getting.
Just then the rest of the guys arrived, and the music grew louder. Everyone started dancing and celebrating the win.
A few hours passed, and Julian had disappeared in the crowd. I wandered through the laughing bodies looking for him and finally caught sight of him sitting in a corner with Renee Barron. My jaw clenched as I watched her hold her long brown hair back and lean in to talk to him. She was practically sitting on his lap standing up, and I was majorly pissed.
“Hey, we got separated,” Julian said, as I approached them.
“I know,” I said, trying not to overreact. “I bumped into Blake and then Montage was talking to me. I think he’s been drinking a little.”
“I think everyone has,” he said, leaning into my hair.
“I see you found Renee.” I met her very green eyes smirking at me.
“Hi, Anna,” she said, and it irritated me that she was so pretty.
“Hi,” I said. “How’s college?”
“Oh, it’s not hard.” She slid her shiny brown hair back. “I’m just working on some prereqs before I apply to nursing school.”
“You’re moving to Birmingham?” I could only hope…
“What?” she laughed. “No. Probably the University of Sterling.”
“The Baptist college?” I intentionally sounded as surprised as possible. “Will they let you in?”
“Be nice,” Julian said in my ear.
“I was just teasing,” I said, pretending to laugh.
Her eyes narrowed. “I can take a joke. Do you hear from Jack much?”
“We broke up,” I said through a tight smile.
“That’s right,” she said, as if she’d forgotten. Liar.
I turned to my date, who she clearly wanted. “Julian, I’m tired. Can we go?”
“Sure.” He was still holding my waist. “I said this was your night.”
I slipped my arms around his neck, suddenly inspired. “I know you did. You’re always so sweet to me.” Then I kissed his nose, feeling Renee’s eyes burning a hole in my back.
“Let’s jet,” he said.
I stepped over and hugged Rachel. “’Night, guys. Have fun.”
“’Night,” Rachel said.
Renee took that opening to step over and run a finger down Julian’s arm. “Get well soon,” she said like some evil succubus.
“Yeah, thanks,” he said. “Bye, guys.”
I was furious. She had a lot of nerve flirting with Julian in front of me. And asking about Jack like that. She knew we broke up. I wanted to kick her bitchy butt. My one consolation was remembering how it went down at the hay maze last year. Julian had left her to be with me.
“What was that face about?” he asked as we made our way to the door. “You look like you’re about to knife somebody.”
I tried to play it off. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Mm-hm. I’ve seen you make that face before.” He slung an arm around my neck, pulling me in so he could kiss my head. “You’re not acting this way because of Renee. I don’t care about her.”
“Well, I hope not,” I tried to pull away and keep walking. “I thought we were dating.”
“Slow down.” He caught my arm and stopped me. “We are.”
I looked up at him, and he smiled. “You are too much,” he breathed, taking my face in his hands and kissing me.
His lips pushed mine apart, and my insides warmed as my mouth filled with the flavor of strawberry daiquiri. We hadn’t made it out of the club yet, and a few of our classmates started cat-calling.
“Idiots,” I laughed, pulling his arm. “Let’s go.”
Julian waved back to the guys, most of whom were still hooting and giving thumbs up signs. As we stumbled out to his car, he draped his arm across my shoulders again. “Thanks for kicking my butt out here tonight. I was in a mood, and this was fun.”
“It’s understandable.” I reached up to thread our fingers. “You’re injured and you can’t do what you want.”
“Let’s walk down to the water.”
I nodded, following him. It wasn’t too cold, and a bright moon glowed in the sky. The waves were all tipped in silver as we walked down and sat on the sand. It was beautiful and magical-feeling.
“I used to do this all the time,” I said with a sigh. “I don’t think I’ve been down here once since school started back.”
“We’ve had a lot going on. Come here, beautiful.” Julian reached across and pulled me into his arms. He rolled us over so he was partially above me and kissed me deeply, his tongue finding mine, causing my insides to ignite.
I moved my body closer to his, reaching up to hold his cheeks. We were lying on the sand, and his hand slid down to my neck, to my shoulder, and then lower. I reached for it and laced our fingers. He kissed my hand then untangled his, reaching back to my waist for the bottom of my sweater. His hand went under the fabric and up to my bra. My heart was racing as his fingers gently explored the sensitive skin beneath.
“Julian,” I breathed, turning my face, my cloudy eyes scanning the dark beach to be sure we were alone.
“What?” he whispered, moving lower to kiss my stomach.
A little noise came from my throat. His kisses were electric, and I slid my fingers into his dark hair. “Aren’t you hurt?”
His lips were burning a path higher, and he spoke against my skin. “I’ll stop if it gets uncomfortable. Or not, heck.”
He covered my mouth with his again, and my stomach tightened. My entire body was on fire. I could feel myself giving in as his leg pushed between my thighs, moving them apart. Maybe this wasn’t the ideal location or how I’d imagined our first time going, but I wasn’t about to stop him.
Just then a squeak of sand was followed by a light sprinkling of grains on our faces. Julian sat up fast, pulling me with him against his chest. A pair of wobbly classmates
laughed as they passed us, oblivious to our presence.
“Ugh,” I exhaled, pulling back and wiping sand off my face. “This was not how I pictured our first time.”
He smiled and touched my chin. “How did you picture it?”
“Not with you in pain. Or with all these people around.”
“I’m not in so much pain.”
I continued to my feet, straightening my sweater and dusting my bottom. “Let’s go,” I reached for his hand. “C’mon.”
“I want to stay,” he said, not standing. “I want to be with you.”
My shoulders dropped. “I want that, too, but… well, the timing isn’t right.”
He made an annoyed sound. “The timing’s never right.”
Pain clenched in my chest. I had assumed he’d agree with me. “Why are you mad?”
“Because I love you,” he said looking up at me.
I frowned. “And that makes you mad?”
“No, it just… it doesn’t seem to matter.”
I leaned over and kissed him softly. “It does matter, but we almost got stepped on!”
He put his hands on my waist and tried to pull me back down again, but I resisted. “Anna!”
“What?” Now I was getting mad. “I said let’s go. Let’s go!”
“Fine.” He stood and held out his hand, but I didn’t take it. I pushed past him stalking toward the car.
“Will you stop?” he called.
“No.” I walked all the way to the car with him following several steps behind me. When I got there, I stood waiting for him at the back.
Julian walked over and stood in front of me. “So that’s it?”
“Are you going to give me the keys?” I said, not meeting his eyes. I refused to cry, even though my insides were all tight and achy.
He exhaled impatiently and held the keys up. “Yes.”
I snatched them away and went to the driver’s side. We drove the whole way to my house in silence—all twenty minutes—and when we stopped in the driveway, I grabbed the handle to get out, but Julian caught my arm. “Why are you acting this way?”
“Because you’re trying to make me feel bad.”
He shook his head. “I’m not trying to do anything.”
“Yes,” I said, sarcasm in my voice. “You’ve been acting normal all night.”
“I’m not acting normal, I’m pissed.” Even in the dark I could see his jaw clench. “I want to be with you. But you don’t have to feel bad. I said what I did, and you said what you did.”
“And I feel bad because I don’t want to make you mad.” Then I looked down and sighed.
He pushed his head back against the seat. “Well, I can’t make you say the words.”
My brow lined. Suddenly, I wasn’t sure if we were talking about the same thing. I thought he was mad because I didn’t want to have sex with him on the beach, and I was mad because I had expected him to understand I didn’t want our first time to be practically in public with drunken classmates stumbling all around us.
“I don’t understand,” I said.
“Look, I’m sorry. I love you, and I want to be with you. You don’t feel the same. That’s just where we are.”
I didn’t have a response. “I’m confused.”
“About what?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think what you’re mad about is the same thing I’m mad about.”
“It’s late,” he exhaled leaning over and kissing my head. “My side’s hurting. I’ve got to get some rest.”
I chewed my lip watching him staring ahead in the dark. “Please don’t be mad at me,” I said. “I do want to be with you. Just not like that.”
“Okay,” he said simply.
I wasn’t convinced, but I leaned over and kissed him softly. “Are you okay to drive?” He closed his eyes and nodded. “Well, sleep good then,” I said.
I got out and walked to the door. I knew we weren’t okay, and it made my chest ache like a huge hole had been blown in it with a sawn-off shotgun. But I didn’t know what else to do. I stopped at the door and looked back. He was still watching me from the car. I waved and he smiled slightly. I opened the door, as he put the car in reverse.
Chapter 13
The wave of excitement following Friday’s game carried over into the next week. Mardi Gras was around the corner, and every day Rachel’s school krewe had planned a different spirit activity for the student body. Our school always named a carnival king and queen, and Rachel and Brad were a sure thing to win the title. We’d find out the winners on Friday, and a ball was planned for that night. It was a big, fun weekend, and I was hoping Julian and I would spend it together.
He’d been distant since our argument, and on Monday, he’d said he was meeting up with Blake during lunch—doing some welding on a car Blake was restoring. I didn’t complain because it allowed him to pick up the blowtorch and didn’t require heavy lifting. I hoped it would help him feel better and get us back on track.
Rachel took a break from decorating and preparing for Friday to run out and give me the latest on her apartment search in New Orleans. “There’s an apartment complex on St. Charles Avenue that’s just a few blocks from campus,” she said. “It faces the street, and I think it’d be perfect. It’s not too expensive, and we’d have a doorman.”
“That sounds great, Rach!” I said, looking at the pictures on her phone.
“Have you heard any more on scholarships?”
I shook my head. “No, and I’m getting discouraged. It’s getting late.”
“Well, hang in there,” she said, giving my arm a squeeze. “I’ll probably have to get a student loan for what Mom and Dad can’t cover.”
“I thought of doing that,” I said. “But it’d take forever to pay back on a journalist’s salary.”
“Not if you moved to New York!” she said. Then she turned serious. “What will you do if you don’t get it?”
“Shoot myself,” I said.
“Anna!”
“I’m just kidding.” I sighed. “I’ll probably just stay at home and go somewhere local.”
“At least you already have a job, right?”
I thought of working at The Bugle full-time, and while I really liked everyone there, I’d hoped to get out and live a little before retiring to a smaller paper—or whatever people were reading at that point.
“I guess,” I shrugged.
After school, I went to the office. My art center piece had turned out really well. As Nancy predicted, the pictures sold it. She said I was a budding photographer, but it was hard to take a bad picture of those little guys. They were all hilariously cute covered in paint, eyes wide with excitement.
For my next job, she wanted me to cover an upcoming fundraiser by one of the East End Beach Mardi Gras krewes. They were a good group of folks who held an arts and crafts festival each spring to raise money for local charities. They needed help getting the word out to arts and crafts vendors that it was time to sign up. Naturally, I thought of Julian and wondered if he might want to get involved.
Summer had developed a peculiar interest in my work at the paper and asked if she could tag along and see what I did. I couldn’t come up with a single reason to say no, so I took her with me that afternoon. She’d toned down the insults and seemed genuinely interested, so I was happy to discuss my small assignments with her and introduce her to Nancy. She hinted that she might be interested in a job, but I had no idea of her qualifications.
“I like taking pictures, and I’ve been playing around with layout software at home,” Summer said. “Maybe I could be a photographer or help with paste-up.”
“Maybe,” I said, scrolling through the paper’s inbox. “You could talk to Nancy about it, but they don’t really have a big budget.”
“So you were really involved in the bicentennial insert, right?”
It was odd that she was suddenly so nice and into me, but I chalked it up to her interest in a job. “I didn’t write anything for it,” I
said. “But I helped find articles and pictures from the archives. Stuff like that.”
“You worked on that piece about Mr. Kyser and Julian’s mom, didn’t you?”
“A little.” Where was she going with this?
“You know I have a cousin who lives on Hammond Island. Not too far from the Kysers. Maybe you met her? Casey Simpson?”
My jaw almost hit the floor. “Casey Simpson’s your cousin?”
“Uh-huh,” she said, thoughtfully. “I think she dated Jack some before she left for Vandy.”
I was stunned. Casey Simpson was the girl who had supposedly broken Jack’s heart—right before he asked me out. I hadn’t thought about her in six months.
“I never really met her, but I saw her once.” I remembered her kissing Jack at the birthday party, and me running from the house. Julian had found me and comforted me. That warm memory of him carrying me back to his car, wanting us to take off and forget the Kysers, caused my lips to tighten.
“She’s really pretty, don’t you think?” Summer continued.
I nodded. “Very pretty. Do you talk to her much?” I wondered if Casey still kept up with Jack.
“Only when she’s home.”
“Oh.” I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Jack was ancient history, and whether he kept up with his ex-girlfriend or not, didn’t really concern me. I was getting more serious with Julian, and that was all I cared about now.
When I got home, I had the place to myself. I dug out the mail from our box and walked slowly inside doing my best not to think about Jack and Casey Simpson and Julian and me. I dropped the stack on the table and noticed a fat envelope in the mix with my name on it. The return address said Loyola University.
With trembling fingers, I picked it up and tore off the top. Inside was a long letter congratulating me on receiving their Scholarship for Academic Excellence and telling me all the great things it included. My breath rushed out in a whoosh—I’d done it! But for some reason, my excitement melted into really heavy sadness. I didn’t want to look at the papers, and all at once, I felt very tired. I collected the contents and carried them up to my room. I stayed there through dinner, telling Mom I had homework and a headache.
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