Tyson rolled his eyes and gave me a pained look. “There’s nothing wrong with Travis.”
I focused on the nearby lifeguard, who was getting some girl’s number instead of watching for swimmers about to drown. “If you want a social life, he’s not the way to go. In this town, and at Cross High, my circle is the one to be in. We’re the future of Pacific Hills.”
The sound of Tyson’s snort drew my attention to his scowl. “Fuck this town and your social cliché high school bullshit. I’d rather hang around Travis and Warhol than a guy like Chad. Who names their kid ‘Chad Bradley’ anyway?”
It’s a heartthrob name. “Chad is a great guy.”
Tyson narrowed his eyes. “Oh yeah? I can tell.”
“He is,” I insisted.
Tyson wasn’t convinced. “What do you even see in him?”
I began to feel uncomfortable with Tyson’s inquisition. He didn’t get to do that, to come back and question everything. Not when...
“You don’t have a right to question my relationship or my feelings for my boyfriend,” I told him.
Tyson casually released and caught my volleyball. “Sounds like you don’t have an answer.”
“I do. If you were here... A lot of this would make sense to you if you’d grown up here.”
“I’m here now,” Tyson responded, leaning close to me, “and what I’m seeing...is a lot of corny shit. I’ll take my chances with Travis.”
His proximity was confusing—that, and the cute way he was both mocking me and standing up to me.
I coolly swept some hair behind my ear. “I’m just trying to help you.”
Nothing more was said.
We walked along the beach, admiring the views in a comfortable silence. Every once in a while, I peeked up at Tyson, to gauge where his mind was—with me, or somewhere else.
He was focused on the ocean, watching the waves crash as they came to shore.
“Hey,” I spoke up, “how are things?”
Tyson shifted his attention to me. “Just trying to get used to all this.”
I peered down at the sand. “What’s it like, in Lindenwood?”
Tyson sighed. “It’s not entirely bad, but some days, it’s chaos. You can get killed for your shoes, or just being in the wrong group of friends. Shit ain’t a cakewalk like Pacific Hills, I’ll tell you that. Sometimes I just lie in bed at night, soaking in the silence. Back home, there’s always noise in the heat of the night.”
My heart ached for him. I reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”
Tyson studied our hands as if taking in how they were entwined. If the physical contact bothered him, he still didn’t let go. “Well, now I’m here.”
Yes, he was, and I was happier than ever to have him back.
It was early, but a few kids home from college were out on the beach relaxing, as well as a few from Cross High.
Unfortunately, some of the latter noticed us and began to stare and whisper. Most notably a trio of girls.
I shrank back and dropped Tyson’s hand. Gossip. I’d spent way too long building up my public persona to let idle gossip bring me down.
Tyson didn’t seem fazed by the bitchy chatter. His impassive face said he wasn’t bothered in the least.
He was probably used to being judged.
Not me.
I took off in another direction, very aware he was on my heels. “Let’s grab our own spot.” We found a place by some deserted volleyball nets, far from other people. Far enough that I was sure our faces couldn’t be made out if someone attempted to do a photo op.
My fancy ringtone for Chad went off again.
This time, when I didn’t answer, my phone rang again with Shayne’s caller ID showing up.
I gritted my teeth. Chad was persistent; he wasn’t above using one of my friends to get to me when I didn’t pick up fast enough.
For a moment, I considered shooting Chad a quick text, explaining I was busy, but I wasn’t in the mood to argue if he didn’t like that answer, especially when it came to who I was busy with.
I seriously hoped those nosy girls weren’t about to hit up social media and blab about seeing me with Tyson. It wasn’t like we were doing anything wrong. We were just—
“You’re worrying too much.”
“Am not,” I replied, easing a hand through my hair.
For the first time that morning, Tyson furnished a smile. One that cooled my nerves.
He leaned over, as if to tell me a secret. “Are, too.”
I couldn’t fight my own smile as I gave in. “Okay. I don’t like gossip, especially about me. This place can be brutal sometimes.”
Tyson shrugged his broad shoulders. “Fuck it. Let them talk. Who gives a shit what people think about you?”
Easy for him to say.
I gazed up into his eyes. “Tyson, it’s not that easy.”
He shook his head. “It’s not that hard, either. You’re smart, beautiful, and people already admire you in town. A little gossip ain’t gonna hurt you.”
That was the thing—it would. I didn’t want there to be “a little” gossip about me. Beyond dating Chad, I was the It Girl of Cross High, and the ideal girl of Pacific Hills. I worked hard for my academic and public service records.
The last thing I needed was a stain on my name.
I had cotillion coming up, and debuting wasn’t a small thing—it was everything.
My cell buzzed, this time with a text from my dearest boyfriend.
Tyson’s nostrils flared. His hand shot out and snatched the phone from me.
“Hey!” I snapped. “Give it back.”
He pocketed my phone and shook his head. “No. Your ass dragged me out here for volleyball. I’m not about to sit here and watch you text your fuck boy.”
Now my own temper was flaring. “He’s not a fuck boy.”
“No?” Tyson dug into his pocket and procured my phone. “Then text him you’re with me.”
I leaned back, almost stuttering. “No.”
“No?”
“I mean...” I gave up in a loud hmmph. “It’s complicated, okay?”
Chad wasn’t exactly the jealous type, but I could tell he wasn’t the most comfortable with my being so buddy-buddy with another guy, especially one I had history with. Even if we were only kids the last time we’d seen each other.
“Why did you even invite me out?” Tyson asked as he shoved my phone back into his pocket.
“Because I want you to have a nice day, enjoy yourself, and take a load off.”
He was still doubtful. “Why?”
“Everyone should feel welcome.” I thought of what my brother had said to me when I was being a total bitch before. “Everyone should feel like they belong. I want you to feel like Pacific Hills is where you belong. I want you to feel at home here, Tyson.”
So that you never leave me again.
The thought came out of nowhere, and I almost pressed a hand to my chest to still my heart.
The first time he left me, I had missed him terribly.
Now that he was back, I wanted him settled and satisfied with his surroundings. Was that so much to ask?
Tyson stared at me good and hard, with no tell of what he was thinking. He tossed up the volleyball and caught it again. “Girls aren’t as athletic as boys.”
It sounded so childish. So asinine. So much like the old Tyson. The one who used to tease me. The one who took me on adventures out in the yard. The one who challenged me over the silliest things, like being a girl.
He was still in there.
There was still light in all that darkness. Tyson Sr. hadn’t stolen it. Maybe in time, it would overcome all the pain.
Fixing Tyson with the toughest look I could muster, I said, “Game on.”
17 | Trice
Nandy was acting salty.
We’d spent pretty much the whole day at the beach playing game after game of volleyball, and I’d beaten her each time. During our last game, I’d let her win, something she was smart enough to catch on to and sulk about.
Once the beach started getting more traffic, we climbed back into Nandy’s ride and drove on home.
We were sitting side by side on the family room floor having a movie marathon over pizza. It was nice to know Nandy could still pig out every once in a while.
The theme of our marathon was older movies we’d grown up watching. It was my turn, and I’d chosen Juice.
“God, those clothes,” Nandy said in between sips of her pineapple soda. “I’m so glad we live in the present.”
I chuckled, grabbing another slice of pizza. “Trust me, I’m sure in the future your kids will mock you for... You know, never mind.”
Nandy faced me. “What? Go on.”
I couldn’t pass up bringing up the elephant in the room. “You never wear clothes. I’m sure your kids will be too busy asking why you’re nearly naked in all your old photos than judging you on your fashion sense.”
Nandy scowled and returned to the movie. “Ha ha.”
I was beginning to laugh at her stale persona when her phone rang for the millionth time.
That redheaded fuck boy was persistent.
“Ugh.” Nandy groaned as she rose to her feet and paused the movie. “One sec.”
She slid her finger across the screen of her phone to unlock it as she stepped into the hall.
It was going on four in the afternoon and no one was home yet. Jordy was probably still out with Hector while Parker and Max were both out at work.
I almost wanted to get a job to busy myself, but in this town, I shuddered to think of the possibilities. Serving the spoiled youth at some eatery? Or slaving away for the stuck-up aristocrats and their prejudices at some retail store?
How was I ever going to get used to this place?
In the hall, Nandy’s conversation was anything but hushed.
From her angry pacing to her rising voice, I knew Chad was giving her shit.
“It’s not a date, we’re just hanging out...We’re not getting close like that...He’s not my childhood sweetheart, we were just kids, Chad...Do not make this a big deal...well, of course I’d feel some type of way, but this isn’t like that...Ugh!” She huffed and seconds later returned to her position next to me.
Fuck boy.
“Trouble in paradise?” I quipped.
The frown on Nandy’s face ceased my taunting.
One thing I noticed, she cared too much about what people thought of her.
Life was too short for that.
It was beyond clear people thought highly of her already. She didn’t need to continue to jump through hoops. Nandy was the princess of Pacific Hills.
“Just drop it,” Nandy said with a shake of her head.
I pushed Play on the DVD.
“Dang.” Nandy peered at the screen and pulled her knees to her chest, securing them tightly with her arms.
“What?”
“I forgot how cute these male leads were. Can we rewind to the part where Tupac’s in his underwear again?”
I grimaced, shaking my head. “Didn’t know you found guys like that attractive.”
Nandy deadpanned, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just thought you had a thing for redheads.”
She reached out and shoved me. “Shut up, Tyson.” Soon her eyes were back on the screen. “Omar Epps was like boyfriend goals in every movie he did in the ’90s and early 2000s.” Nandy peeked at me. “You know, you sorta look like him.”
I rolled my eyes and gazed at the screen. “And you’re a regular Sanaa Lathan.”
Nandy giggled, and I allowed myself to admit I liked that sound far better than her berating me, bitching at me, or whining at me.
She was different from what I remembered, but some of that old girl was still there.
Pacific Hills was a place people in my position used to dream of. The land of the riches. The place to settle down and enjoy one’s wealth. Where I was from, knowing it was just a dream made you smart. Thinking it could ever be a reality made you a fool.
Could this be my reality?
Travis wasn’t so bad; Warhol, Ashley, and the guys, neither.
Having Nandy at my side would make things bearable. She was the only person I truly knew here, even if I barely knew her anymore.
Time had a sick way of changing everything.
I’d grown up fast and harsh, while she was still easing into adulthood.
I could almost envy that softness of hers, that naive and optimistic viewpoint she had.
Fingering the rug, I decided to at least truly try to be friendly and make it work.
What was the worst that could happen?
Ding-dong.
The front doorbell rang out in the foyer, yet another interruption of our film.
Nandy sighed as she paused the movie before going and getting the door.
I leaned back on my arms, curious to see who it was.
Shit.
Chad breezed into the house like he owned the place, and at once my mood sank.
“I just can’t see why we all can’t hang out, Nan,” he was saying as he came into the room and hung in the doorway. His gaze fell upon me, and no hint of a friendly aura came off his person. “Tyson.”
He wanted me to break his neck. He had to.
Refraining from calling him the moniker I admired for Nandy’s sake, I settled with, “Chad.”
He scratched his head, eyeing the screen before me. “Movies? Sounds like fun.”
Nandy came and tugged on his arm. “Fine, you win, we’ll do something at your house.”
A slow smile curled onto Chad’s mouth. “Yeah?”
Nandy rolled her eyes. “Yes. I’ll hang out with Tyson some other time.”
The smile disintegrated. “Sure thing.”
Nandy pivoted on her toes and faced me, frowning. “Rain check? We have been together all day. I’m sure we can finish this weekend or something?”
There was no use in throwing a fit. Chad was her boyfriend. I told myself maybe in some other universe, I would’ve felt some type of way about Asiah spending too much free time with some other guy.
Besides, Nandy and I had the whole summer.
I let it go as I bobbed my head. “Yeah.”
Nandy offered me a small smile. “Thanks for understanding.”
Chad had had enough. He boldly took Nandy’s hand and steered her out of the room and soon out of the house.
I faced the large flat-screen, wondering if I wanted to even finish the movie.
Loud footsteps sounded in the hall, and I just barely caught a glimpse of Jordy and Hector racing up the steps for his room.
Another figure came into my line of vision, and I realized it was Shayne.
She didn’t look so good as she entered the room and plopped herself down beside me.
The night before, she’d been so bubbly and flirty, and now the crestfallen state she was in brought even me down.
Shayne gathered a slice of pizza and looked at the paused movie before facing me. “Hey.”
Something told me she needed it, so I smiled at her. “Hey.”
I restarted the movie, and we sat in a comfortable silence.
18 | Nandy
Jeff Bradley exuded wealth and power. I felt his presence every time I had an encounter with him, even if we were merely standing in the same room together. His wife and his son sometimes made me nervous, but Mr. Bradley was all things intimidating.
Time equaled money, so he was more out of the house than in. Running into him as Chad and
I were entering the house after hanging out at Oliver Stein’s had me on my toes.
“Nandy, good to see you,” Mr. Bradley greeted me with a warm twinkle in his eyes as he seemed to be sifting through the day’s mail.
While he was tall like his father, with matching eyes, Chad resembled his mother more.
“Hey, Mr. Bradley.” I lifted my hand in an awkward wave.
He seemed amused at the gesture as he faced his son. “She just refuses to call me Jeff, huh?”
He had given me permission on several occasions, but people in his position earned the “Mr.” title. It felt more respectful, not to mention Mrs. Bradley never let on that I could call her Laura.
Chad and I eased more into the house, getting comfortable in his family’s sitting room as we sat together on the sofa. Mr. Bradley hung back in the doorway, continuing his browsing with the mail.
“Save the date,” he mused, waving a flyer and reminder for cotillion next month. He appraised me. “So, Nandy, I hear your parents adopted another boy.”
If gossip wasn’t already a pain in the ass, false gossip was worse.
“Um, no,” I spoke up to clarify. “They didn’t adopt him—he’s a longtime friend of our family who’s staying with us now.”
“Oh yeah? Where’s he from?”
Chad snorted. “Lindenwood.”
Mr. Bradley frowned. “Oh.”
His reaction and Chad’s judgment were unsettling. They didn’t know Tyson. Had I been that awful in the beginning?
“He’s really nice,” I said in Tyson’s defense.
Chad made a face. “Sure, babe.”
Mr. Bradley wasn’t convinced, either. “Your parents are ever the generous people, aren’t they? First with the Vietnamese boy and now this one.”
It was hard to keep my face even. “Jordy’s Thai, as in Thailand.” And he wasn’t a “boy,” he was my brother.
“Right,” Mr. Bradley responded with what was surely a phony smile. “All set for your big day? Cotillion will be here before you know it.”
The idea of shoes, makeup, tulle, and hair came to mind, not to mention wearing a tiara. “Can’t wait.”
Mr. Bradley came and tapped Chad with the mail, eyeing his son with pride. “You should be honored, taking the prettiest girl in town with you.” He returned to me, as if remembering something. “Oh, thank you for agreeing to help out with Charlotte.”
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