Nowhere Girl (Foundlings Book 1)

by Fiona Keane

  “What…” I glanced beyond the girls, who were darkening by the second as they rested beneath the glowing sun.

  “Nothing.” Olivia grinned, keeping her eyes closed as she spoke, “Just glad he brought you along.”

  “I bet they haven’t even figured out how to work the grill,” Michelle grumbled. “And I’m starving already.”

  “How long will we be here?” I questioned, causing both girls’ faces to turn in my direction.

  “Are you okay, lady?” Michelle smiled at me with a patient, concerned expression on her tanned face.

  I quickly nodded at them, attempting to reassure Michelle and Olivia so their eyes would close and I could return to staring at the Gulf.

  “What are they doing?” Olivia sighed, forcing me to glance at the boys.

  “Mark and Luke are…I think they’re figuring out how to warm the coals…Owen and Jameson are talking.”

  “I bet they’re talking about you, Olivia.” Michelle giggled. “Jameson is probably giving away all the Olivia details.”

  “I hope he says something good,” Olivia squealed in girlish excitement. “He is just too cute. Sophia, did you have a boyfriend in Oregon?”

  “No.”

  “What? Really?” Michelle looked at me. “But you’re gorgeous.”

  I blushed, wishing to hide my face within my hood. Olivia smiled and pushed Michelle’s head back against the sand.

  “Let her be, Michelle,” Olivia sighed. “Sophia, ignore her.”

  I gladly complied with Olivia’s direction and returned my stare to the Gulf. The water was clear for miles, allowing for tens of people to line up and make claim to the beach. When a group of women blocked my perfectly clear view of the white caps, my gaze turned back to the boys. I cautiously rolled onto my stomach next to Olivia, who was now sandwiched between Michelle and me, and studied them.

  When our reverie was interrupted by Michelle’s pathetic snore, Olivia rolled on her stomach and followed my gaze.

  “He is a sweet guy,” Olivia whispered. “When he first came to school, Michelle was obsessed with him. Obsessed. I’m talking ‘JB plus MG’ in hearts all over her notebooks last year.”

  “Yikes.”

  “It gets worse.” Olivia giggled at my side, “The poor guy got that from everyone. Michelle never actually asked him out. I think he just automatically friend-zoned her because he and I became friends and he probably saw her just like me. You know?”

  “When did she and Luke start dating?”

  Olivia leaned her blonde head against my shoulder.

  “Not long after Jameson came. The middle of last year? But she’ll always remember the one who got away.” Olivia snorted with laughter.

  It was contagious and I could no longer fight her sweet nature. She continued to watch with me, most likely observing Owen. He had removed his shirt and was tossing a volleyball back and forth with Mark. They were all laughing, even Jameson, who sat with his toes in the sand.

  “Crap,” Olivia snapped and began laughing loud enough that it woke Michelle. “They totally saw us watching them.”

  “Nowhere to hide,” I teased, hoping we hadn’t made it too obvious.

  Michelle’s chest rose as she lifted her weight to her elbows and glared at us. “What is going on?”

  “I was spying on Owen.” Olivia blushed. “And they were all looking over here.”

  “They were probably just checking out Michelle,” I assured Olivia. “Nothing else to see here. I’m dressed for church and she’s wearing a giant shirt.”

  “True story,” Olivia agreed. “Michelle, are they looking?”

  “No.” She glanced at the canopy and back at us. “They’re gone except for Mark. He’s alone. Oh, no…move!”

  Before Michelle and I could roll away, Olivia was completely covered with ice and freezing water. I rolled from the blanket and struggled to stand in the hot sand without my flip-flops. Luke, Owen, and Jameson stood above our blanket rolling in a fit of laughter.

  “Oh, honey,” Michelle shook her head at Olivia while smiling in appreciation of their prank. “Good thing it’s like one hundred out here. You’ll dry off in no time.”

  Olivia groaned, lifting herself to be at my side while somehow finding humor in their joke. “Those jerks.”

  Michelle walked toward the three, kicking each boy in the shin or punching their shoulders as she passed.

  “That was just impossible to pass up,” Luke gloated. “You three made easy targets.”

  Target. I shivered, thinking of that word being used against my mom and me as I clung to her body in the kitchen.

  Olivia shook my arm, returning my attention to the group.

  “Where’d you go?” Olivia whispered, commenting on my shaken appearance, continuing to hold my arm.

  I blinked at her and then toward Jameson, whose laughter faded to mimic Olivia’s concerned expression.

  “Nowhere. It’s nothing,” I lied.

  Luke and Owen continued talking with Michelle and, as I came back to my surroundings, I could hear their conversation clearly.

  “What were you ladies talking about?” Owen winked at Olivia.

  “We were telling Sophia how beautiful she is,” Michelle sighed, “And she wouldn’t believe us.”

  “You are a looker, Sophia.” Luke winked at me, humoring Michelle.

  “And then I was trying to talk up the three of you to her and you do this crap!” Olivia kicked Jameson in the leg. It was a pathetic attempt at injury that he could easily ignore.

  “Hey,” Jameson nodded to me while speaking to everyone, “The burgers are done. Let’s eat.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  I was curled into a ball with my knees pulled inside the light hoodie I brought along. The fading sun had melded with the breeze, sending an uninvited cool wind along the sand.

  We had been on the beach since before lunch and I was drained. The constant need to plaster my face with a fake smile just to prove to everyone that there wasn’t anything wrong with the new girl burned my cheeks. However, nobody asked about me or attempted to probe. It felt…comfortable. Freeing, even.

  I watched Olivia and Owen flirt with each other, Michelle and Luke make out, and Jameson entertain everyone in his suave, charismatic way. It was as though everyone was under his spell, a methodically planned way to charm the pants off everyone to get his way. Maybe that’s why nobody cared that they didn’t know his story. Maybe his attempts at distraction were successful.

  We hadn’t spoken much, other than normal, friendly exchanges while in each other’s company. But other than that, it was no different than me talking with Luke…except when I would look up and see his eyes were fixed on me, as if he was trying to read my thoughts, or when he would smile as though he sensed I felt anxious. Other than that, it was no different.

  Luke and Owen lit three small torches around the canopy before returning to the blanket beneath. Michelle welcomed Luke back to her possession by greedily clinging to him. Owen respectfully sat next to Olivia, but the two continued to ogle each other. Jameson was standing near one of the empty beach chairs, finishing a bottle of water.

  “It’s getting cold,” Olivia mumbled, now dressed in sweatpants and her own shirt.

  “We can make a snuggle sandwich,” Michelle suggested, her head leaning comfortably against Luke’s chest. His arms were protectively wrapped around Michelle, pulling her close to him.

  “I left my sweatshirt in the car,” Jameson mumbled, scouring the contents of the backpack he hauled along with him. His hair, already a disastrous mess from the Gulf wind, flopped over his forehead when he stood.

  “I’ll get it,” I volunteered, excited for an opportunity to break from the group. Watching Michelle and Luke make out while Owen and Olivia flirted had been exhausting. I stood, wiping sand from my legs, and held my hand out for Jameson’s keys, but he instead placed his palm into mine. My eyes shot up to his, which were smiling down at me.

  “Don’t drive anywhe
re,” he warned, pulling his keys from the pocket of his shorts and placing them in my hand as he removed his hold.

  I nodded and left, thrilled for a moment of reprieve. The sun was beginning to release the day, pulling away from the horizon and welcoming the softening glow of the moon. I paused on the path back to Jameson’s car, catching my breath and slowing my thoughts. I needed to recharge. I needed to go home and avoid people. Olivia was really nice and she seemed to care about me, but even that was too much for me right now.

  I resumed my pace, now jogging toward Jameson’s car. I clicked the fob, forcing the taillights to flash in the twilight glow, illuminating a shadow against the car. What high school student drives a BMW?

  “Hey,” Mark’s voice called from the shadow between Luke and Jameson’s cars. “Sophia.”

  His presence made me jump, tossing my stomach into my throat and setting my heart ablaze with alarm.

  “Mark,” I cautiously acknowledged him while he leered at me, watching my every move.

  “So what’s the new girl doing all by herself, all the way over here?”

  He slithered toward me as I began lifting the gate of Jameson’s trunk. His slimy fingers wrapped around my wrist, one by one, tightening their hold as they pathetically attempted to tickle my skin. I swallowed, buying time before weighing my options for escape.

  “I got cold,” I muttered.

  I tried pulling my wrist away, initially pretending to reach for Jameson’s hoodie, but Mark was oblivious and continued to tighten his hold.

  “I can keep you warm.”

  “No, thank you,” I replied, resisting the urge to vomit on him as my stomach pressed higher into my throat.

  Mark released my wrist and stepped closer, placing his left hand on my shoulder while twirling my ponytail in his right. I was going to be sick.

  “You sure? It can get pretty chilly out here.” He continued to twist my hair, batting his eyelashes at me. “I would be happy to help, new girl.”

  “No. Mark, you should get back to the beach. Please don’t touch me.”

  “Why not?”

  I froze while Mark leaned in, his mouth inches from my face as he squished my cheeks between his clammy palms.

  “No. Mark, get off of me!”

  Before his face could contact mine, he was torn away in a hurry. I watched helplessly as his body slammed against the taillights.

  “Jesus Christ, Mark.” Jameson punched Mark in the shoulder. “She said no! What the hell is your problem?”

  “What?” Mark questioned, perplexed at our opinion of what an incompetent pervert he truly was.

  Jameson smacked him in the head, sending Mark’s balance off as he tumbled against Luke’s car.

  “Get out of here,” Jameson demanded, stepping in front of me, blocking my view of Mark.

  His back was inches away from my face, making visible each movement of the light fabric of his faded t-shirt as he shouted at Mark. I couldn’t explain the impulse, but I reached for his shirt, gently tugging on it like a child’s blanket. He stepped away with Mark and I could no longer see them behind a series of cars in the early evening glow.

  I was leaning against Jameson’s open trunk, attempting to catch my breath when his voice made me jump, almost slamming my head into the rear door.

  “Shit!” I screamed, grasping my chest, trying to force my heart back behind my ribs. “You can’t just pop out of nowhere, Jameson. Oh my god.” I hunched over, catching my breath. “You don’t do that to someone with panic attacks. What the hell is wrong with you guys?”

  His face fell, the smile quickly fading from his lips as he ran to my side. I felt his hands on each side of my hips, stabilizing me and pulling me back toward the retaining wall. It wasn’t all Jameson’s fault, but he caught my wrath.

  “I came at the right time,” he protested. “That scuzzy moron…are you having an attack right now?” His expression changed, the anger fading from his face, replaced with concern. “Soph…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I am so sorry. I…I didn’t know.”

  “What are you even doing here? I said I’d get your stupid sweatshirt. Jesus.”

  “You’re feisty when angry,” he whispered, a small laugh lingering behind his words, “I’m sorry. I, um…I gave you the wrong key.”

  “You liar. I already unlocked it.” I wiggled from his hands, which were still holding me against the retaining wall until my breathing normalized.

  “Fine,” he sighed, running his fingers through the mess of beach waves atop his head, “I wanted to see if you were okay.”

  “I’d like to go home now.”

  “Wait, Soph,” he pressed. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Honest. I was just hoping to talk to you. Shit. I’m really sorry, Soph. I came to talk to you and that dirt bag was here. Soph…” Part of me was delighting in listening to his remorseful pleas, knowing I wasn’t the only one suffering at the moment.

  “Whatever.” I waved. “Forget it. Where’s your sweatshirt?”

  I studied the space of his trunk and there were no clothes inside. I closed the trunk door and looked up at Jameson who, again, was grinning at me. His teeth clenched against his bottom lip as he hesitantly studied me from the corner of his eyes.

  “I didn’t bring one?”

  “You’re an ass. Take me home. No. I’m getting Olivia.”

  “Stop.” He reached for my arm as I started walking back toward the beach. “Soph. Come here.”

  Jameson pulled me away from the car in the opposite direction of our friends and, to my surprise, I willingly followed him.

  CHAPTER TEN

  We stopped under a row of palm trees, their leaves dancing gracefully against the moonlit sky.

  “I’m really sorry I frightened you back there.” He sat with his back against a palm, motioning for me to sit at his side. “And I’m even more remorseful that Owen invited Mark. Are you okay?”

  I slowly nodded, folding my knees back into my hoodie as I stared out at the black waves crashing before me.

  “I remember my first panic attack,” he whispered, pulling my attention to him with intrigue. “Do you want to just stay here for a little while?”

  “Okay.” Please.

  It was silent, but for the pulsating rhythm of waves crashing and pulling against the shore. I was entirely hypnotized.

  “So,” Jameson interrupted the hush, “I missed school this week because I was at the doctor.”

  I turned to look at him, confused by his comment and the need to inform me.

  “I owed you an apology,” he continued, “and now you have a piece of my story. Satisfied?”

  “Some story.” My eyes rolled over, returning to the horizon and deep expanse of the Gulf. I took off my flip-flops and wiggled my toes into the cool sand.

  “I saw some things as a kid…shit…never mind. So how was your first week?”

  I glanced toward Jameson’s face, hoping to see something reflect in his glowing hazel eyes as they pulled me in.

  “It sucked,” I sighed, relief flooding over me as I allowed myself to be honest. “It really sucked.”

  “I’m wounded.” His hand clenched his chest in mock insult. “You’ve spent it with most of us.”

  “Still sucked.”

  A smile playing at my lips quickly faded as the skin of my cheeks burned in response to Jameson’s knuckles grazing along my face. My breath caught in my throat.

  “I’m sorry.” His expression displayed a serious vacancy, impassive even while his gesture expressed sincerity. “Maybe next week will be better.”

  I nodded politely, unsure of what to tell Jameson when I knew the next three weeks would all suck as much as the last one, especially since I was beginning next week with a counseling session in Mr. Fitzgerald’s office.

  I enjoyed the sound of the waves hitting the shore; their rhythmic pull absorbed into the air in an all-consuming hum that beckoned me toward it, just like back in Oregon. Jameson was just as distracted a
s me. When I finally broke from my daze, I glanced up at him to see his eyes squinting toward the horizon while his fingers wiggled into the sand at his sides.

  “Are you okay?” I whispered, watching his eyes open and fix on mine. The hazel glow faded in the dark, haunting his expression.

  “I will be.” A smile barely touched his lips. “Someday.”

  “Me too,” I agreed and turned my stare away from us.

  In the distance, I could hear laughter breaking through the calm hum of the waves, distracting me from the comfortable silence that passed between Jameson and me.

  “I’m sorry again for Mark. Owen really shouldn’t have invited him,” Jameson mumbled. “Can I make it up to you?”

  “How?”

  “Maybe we could talk about each other,” he suggested, studying me speculatively, as though he was hesitant to have even thought of such an idea.

  “Like how you’re a manipulative jerk who kidnapped me and forced me to sit on a beach all day?”

  “That’s a start.” He laughed, the velvet sound filling my soul. “Or, we can pretend you didn’t insult me for the fifth time today and talk to each other.”

  “Maybe.” I tossed a piece of driftwood before us, watching it nestle into the sand. Jameson took my hand from my knee, startling me.

  “Ground rules.” He encouraged me to speak, as if requesting I lay the boundaries.

  I felt like I was listening to myself, as though talking to Jameson right now was like having an active conversation with my subconscious.

  “Rules.” I thought of his words and replied, “If I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t have to.”

  “And if I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t have to.”

  “Deal.”

  “You first.” He smiled, his thumb mindlessly tickling the back of my hand. “Soph.”

  “What’s your favorite color?”

  “Pass.”

  I looked up at him, confused. “Seriously?”

  “No.” His face melted into a grin that filled the air around us with laughter. “Black.”

  “Black?”

  “Nothing’s there. No secrets. Just…black. I like it. No judgments either, okay?”