by Beth Reekles
“Come on,” I said, grabbing Lee’s hand and dragging him toward the nearest cooler. “I’m thirsty.”
“What happened to No, I won’t drink at all, don’t worry?”
“I never said that. I said I wouldn’t get drunk. There’s a difference.” I bent down to grab two cans of beer out of the slowly melting ice and handed one to Lee.
“Hey, Lee, you made it!” We turned around and saw a guy walking up to us.
“Hey,” Lee replied, doing that weird half-hug thing guys do. “This is my friend I was telling you about, Elle. Elle, this is Kory.”
I sipped my beer. “Hi.”
“You guys good for drinks? Come on,” Kory said. “I’ll introduce you to some people.”
And he did. Kory’s group of friends all looked either our age or maybe freshmen and sophomores in college. I was kind of able to put names to faces, but I’d forgotten half of them within the first few minutes.
At one point, while we were talking to some of them, Lee stood beside me and slung his arm round my shoulders. He drained the last of his can and said, “I’m getting another drink—you want one?”
“No, I’m good.”
He ruffled my hair and walked off, one of the guys joining him. The other girl in our little group, Jess, watched them go for all of three seconds before saying, “So, are you guys dating, or…?”
“What?” I snorted. “No way! Are you for real?”
She shrugged. “You two just look pretty cozy.”
I laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding. He’s my friend. Not in a million years would we ever be—you know, dating.”
“Nothing wrong with being friends first,” one of the guys whose name I couldn’t remember said. “It’s like the start of any great rom-com.”
I rolled my eyes. “Not me and Lee. Trust me.”
I wasn’t used to people asking about me and Lee. Everyone at school knew we’d always been practically joined at the hip, that we came as a package deal. I’d never really thought how it looked to an outsider.
I was still laughing about it when Lee came back.
Chapter 12
It was late, and a few people had started to leave the party. The alcohol supply had mostly run out, and the buzz it had given people seemed to be fading.
“Okay,” Kory announced, heaving himself up from where he lay on the ground. He shook the sand out of his hair with one hand. “This is starting to get boring. Come on.”
So we did. We all got up and followed him from the clusters of partygoers to a small, dying campfire a little farther off, where we sat around on some logs.
After dumping a little more driftwood onto the fire, a guy called Miles said, “Truth or dare?”
“Sure,” everyone said, nodding. I wriggled into a more comfortable spot on the log and hooked my arm through Lee’s, feeling the chill of the night air now, glad he’d reminded me to bring a hoodie.
“I’ll go first!” Jess chirped. “Um…Maria! Truth or dare?”
“Truth.”
“Your most embarrassing moment. And don’t spare us any details.”
Maria’s olive cheeks turned pink. “Right. Okay. Ugh, I hate you for this. Right. So in my sophomore year of high school, some kid tripped me up in the canteen and I, um, I spilled my lunch all over the head cheerleader.”
“It doesn’t stop there.” Jess giggled. “Go on.”
Maria shot her a glare, but smiled a little. “My pants ripped when I fell.”
There was a moment of silence. Then we all burst out laughing.
“Oh my gosh,” I gasped. “Are you serious?”
“Honestly, girl, I wish I wasn’t. My turn,” Maria said. “But, Jess, I am going to get you back for that one later. Hmm, who should I…Miles.”
“Yep.”
“Truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
“I dare you…to…Oh, God, I’m terrible at dares! Someone else think of one.”
“I’ve got one,” a boy called Hunter put in. “See those guys over there?” He pointed and we all looked around. Miles nodded. “Go pants one of them.”
Miles’s eyebrows went up. “Those guys are huge.”
Hunter shrugged. “Probably drunk, though.”
Miles sighed. “If I get a black eye, dude, you are so getting your ass kicked.”
We all watched as Miles walked over to the group of guys. He kept looking back over his shoulder like he was expecting one of us to tell him he didn’t have to go through with the dare. But the guys didn’t notice him as he got closer.
Then, in one hurried motion, he yanked the khakis of the closest guy down and spun round, sprinting for the safety of our little campfire so fast he fell face-first into the sand and did a forward roll. My eyes widened in panic as I wondered if he was all right.
He was back on his feet in a second, though, and his legs flailed around madly as he made his way toward us. The guy whose pants were now round his ankles was either too stunned or simply too drunk to pull them back up before trying to run after Miles. At that point, I had to laugh. Lee fell off the log because he was laughing so hard, and I wasn’t the only one clutching my sides as Miles collapsed back in his spot.
“My…turn,” he panted. “Nathan, truth or dare?”
And on it went. After we cracked open the supplies Jess had brought along to make s’mores, Lee was dared to fit as many marshmallows in his mouth as he could. (For the record, it was fourteen.) I had a truth—what was my first kiss? It was fun, though, and when it came to truths, I didn’t have a problem with sharing stuff with these random people, however embarrassing. I would probably never see them again, so why should I care what they thought of me?
Everything was going great until Hunter said, “Elle. Truth or dare?”
And I replied, “Dare. No! No, wait, truth!”
“Too late,” Kory said in an irritating singsong voice. “You already said dare.”
“I dare you,” Hunter said, “to go skinny-dipping.”
I blinked. Then I blinked again. Eventually, I said, “Huh?”
“You know, skinny-dipping,” he repeated. “In the sea.”
I looked round, over my shoulder, at the sea. It was as dark as the sky; the only way I could distinguish between them was by the white, foamy tips of waves.
“Um,” I said, fiddling with the zipper on my hoodie. “Yeah, no thanks.” It was pitch-black out there—not to mention freezing in the water. And I was not about to actually skinny-dip. I’d almost tried to at one of Lee and Noah’s parties once, after too many drinks. I’d never been so embarrassed.
Lee piped up, “There’s no way she’s doing that. What if she drowned? Are you as big an idiot as you look?”
Hunter scowled at Lee. “What the hell’s it got to do with you, huh? It’s no big deal. Everyone does it.”
Lee shook his head. “Wow,” he scoffed. “You’re actually an even bigger idiot than I had you pinned for.”
Hunter shot to his feet.
Lee was standing in a split second.
The two of them just stood there, glaring at each other.
“Hey—you don’t have to be a substitute Noah,” I muttered, but loud enough that Lee heard me, since the rest of our little circle was so hushed. “One is enough.”
I saw something flash across my best friend’s face. It was somewhere between amusement and wanting to roll his eyes at me. But he fought hard to keep on glaring at Hunter.
“Fine,” Hunter snapped, sitting back down. “You can do the forfeit.”
“I’ll do the forfeit,” I said.
“You guys have to make out, that’s the forfeit,” Jess said hastily, before Hunter had a chance to open his mouth.
“What?” I exclaimed, whipping my head round to look at Hunter. “You’re joking. Absolutely no wa
y in hell that’s happening.”
“Not Hunter,” Jess clarified, grinning. “You and Lee.”
“What?” Lee and I both cried. I added, “Now I know you’re joking.”
“Nuh-uh.” Nathan shook his head, his smile growing a little. “Your forfeit is to kiss Lee.”
“Why am I involved in this?” Lee demanded.
“You were fine with getting involved a minute ago,” Hunter muttered at him.
“Yeah, but—” I started.
Lee said, “I have a girlfriend, though. I can’t—”
“And I have a boyfriend.”
“So what?” Kory shrugged. “Neither of them is here, right? And it’s just one harmless dare. Nobody even has to know.”
“Did he really just say that?” Lee asked nobody in particular.
“Did you have to?” I whined, turning to Jess. “Really?”
She arched an eyebrow at me. “Would you have preferred Hunter to give you a forfeit?”
“I guess not,” I mumbled back. “But—”
“You two look so close. I mean, seriously. Tell me. Have you ever even tried it?”
“No, because—”
“Well, now you’ll know. If it is true love, you can thank me later.” Then, loud enough that the others could hear her, she said, “Come on, you two, don’t chicken out on us. Suspense is building. Tension is high. All that jazz.”
I turned to look at Lee.
“Um,” he said.
“Um,” I replied.
I searched his face, and I knew he was thinking the exact same thing as me: This is not happening.
I couldn’t kiss him. It was way too—
“There.”
I blinked, and I missed it. I don’t think he even really put his lips on my cheek long enough for it to constitute a kiss.
“No, that doesn’t count!” Damien told us teasingly. “That was barely the kind of kiss you give your grandma. Man up.”
They were all egging us on, drumming their knees and shouting.
Even if we were both totally and completely single, I knew there was no way I could ever kiss Lee.
What if it made things permanently weird between us? What if it wrecked everything?
Also—neither of us was single. I never backed down from dares usually, but this was different. I wasn’t about to kiss anybody else, especially not for some stupid dare, to shut up people I’d never see again.
And Lee had to be thinking the same, surely.
I heard Lee sigh, and because he was sitting so close to me I felt his breath wash over my face and neck; it sent a shiver down my spine.
“Well,” he mumbled, low enough for only me to hear. “They can never tell us we didn’t try it.”
And I just thought, He’s going to kiss me.
Chapter 13
My first kiss had been with Noah, at the kissing booth. He’d tasted of spearmint and cotton candy, and I’d been totally lost because I’d never kissed a guy before. And, sure, I’d gotten in a lot of practice since then, but Noah was still the only guy I’d ever kissed.
Lee would taste like beer and marshmallows. I could smell it on his breath, he was that close. My eyes were shut tight and I could feel my mouth twisted into a thin line.
I’d been so sure he was going to kiss me…but he didn’t. I peeled my eyes back open and he was still right in front of me, his face scrunched up just like mine. “Nope. Too weird.”
Everyone around us shouted again. Go on, just one kiss! Do it!
“Your face looks strange this close.”
“So does yours. You have a booger, by the way,” I told him.
“You have a pimple under your nose.”
Far from kissing me, he reached up as if to squeeze the pimple for me—I knew he was joking around, but I still shrieked and twisted away—accidentally head-butting him in the process.
“Ow!” he exclaimed, pulling away. “Shelly!”
“That was so your fault!”
He tackled me, pinning me down in the sand. He sat on my legs and pinned my arms over my head.
“Get off! You’re getting sand in my hair!” I thrashed around, trying to break free. “You’re too heavy!”
“Payback!”
“Lee!”
“Elle!” he mimicked in a falsetto voice that sounded nothing like me. I frowned but stopped wriggling, since I was getting nowhere, and Lee bent down so his mouth was right beside my ear.
“Was it just me or would that have been totally weird?”
I let out a breath of laughter. “Definitely not just you,” I whispered back, smiling.
He chuckled a little, sounding as relieved as I felt.
And never mind it being totally bizarre, it would have been totally screwed up of me to kiss my boyfriend’s brother.
“Lee.”
“What?”
“You’re kind of crushing me.”
“So long as you’re not suddenly crushing on me, Elle, it’s all good.” He winked, jumping up and giving me a hand. “You wanna head off?”
I was glad he’d suggested it, and nodded. The party had been good, but the fun was definitely over now. I was done with truth or dare.
“We’re gonna shoot off,” Lee announced. “I mean, you know, after that hot and heavy make-out session, we just can’t keep our hands off each other. Gotta go find a room, you know?”
I snorted, and a few people got up to hug us goodbye, telling us to come again next time. Lee and I waved to the others and made our way back down the beach. I looped my arm through his, resting my head on his shoulder.
Thinking Lee had been about to kiss me had been weird beyond belief, but in a way, I was glad we’d been given the stupid dare. It was as though now I knew for certain that there could never ever be anything romantic between us. And I liked that; I really, honestly did. I wanted things to always be the same with us, however many ups and downs and arguments we had. We’d made it through the hardest seventeen years of our lives, and anyone who said we’d stop being friends later in life or would always wonder what if? didn’t know anything about us.
* * *
The next evening was our last, so our final dinner was made up of leftovers—meaning mostly salad and ice cream. The three of us put the house back in order, cleaning up before going to pack our things.
I’d always had trouble packing for the beach house.
Always.
And I had to admit, I hated the repacking the night before we left the beach house just as much. It was always kind of a downer, but this year felt worse than ever. Aside from the usual melancholy sight of our bedroom without all the clutter and clothes, and the simple fact that it was our last night here this year, it just felt so lonely, especially with Noah and his dad already gone.
Lee and I had said we’d come here every summer of our lives. But now it hit me—and it hit me hard—that the others might not be coming back with us.
And I really, really didn’t like that.
It was a stupid thing to cry over, I guess. It was just a house. But was it really so terrible of me to want this one thing to stay the same forever?
And this place was so much more than a house. It was where we’d spent every summer since we were kids. It was the one place that, no matter how far apart Lee and Noah had drifted, they would (for the most part) get along. It was the one place where we could act like five-year-olds and not give a damn.
“I hate this,” Lee said quietly. He had his back to me and was cramming shoes into nonexistent spaces in his suitcase. But he said it like he knew I was almost about to cry. “The leaving, I mean. I hate the leaving.”
“Yeah.”
“We’ll be back in a year. It’s stupid to miss it.”
“I know, but it won’t be the same, will it? Especially i
f Noah doesn’t come. And we’ll be, like, off to colleges….”
“Hey, what happened to our pact? We pinky-promised when we were ten years old to come here every year, and now you want to break that promise? Shelly, you of all people should know how tightly the pinky promise binds you.”
I giggled, but it stuck in my throat. “You know what I mean.”
“Kinda.” Then he sighed. “It sucks, huh?”
“Definitely.”
After a few minutes passed, Lee’s arms curled round me and he hugged me from behind. His chin was on my shoulder. After a couple of seconds, I turned and wrapped my arms round him, burying my face in his shoulder. We stood there like that, totally silent and holding each other.
I think Lee was just as upset as me, really, but he wasn’t going to show it. I knew him too well, though. I didn’t need him to tell me that Noah’s comment about growing up and maybe not coming back had stuck with him too.
Right then, we both needed the hug.
And afterward, it was like the world felt a little brighter and a little warmer. I didn’t feel quite so sad about the fact that this year could be the last we were all here for summer at the beach house together.
Because yeah, things changed.
And yeah, we still had a lot of growing up to do.
But right then, everything I was worried about—from what would happen with me and Noah to the stuff deeper down, like college, like the future—just didn’t really matter anymore.
I’d have to deal with those things at some point, but not right now. Not while we still had the beach house.
“Where are we going?” Lee asked as I started tugging him wordlessly out of the bedroom.
I didn’t answer him.
“Shelly?” Lee asked again.
“Just wait,” I said, a grin spreading so wide over my face, I probably looked like I was doing an impression of the Cheshire cat. I kicked off my flip-flops and Lee followed my lead. He was in old sweatpants and a T-shirt, and I was in some thin shorts and a tank top.
“Ready?” I asked.
