It Could Only Be Tyler : A Sweet YA Romance (Beachbreak High Book 2)

by Emily Lowry

  I looped my arms around him, resting my palm on the back of his neck. His body felt so warm against mine, and the look in his eyes was deep and intense. I had the urge to pull him into me, to press my mouth to his. I could always say that it was just to make our fake make out session look more real…

  But before I got the chance, the door opened, and the lights flicked on.

  “JUST WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING?” Mr. Hinshaw’s voice boomed.

  Tyler jumped off me, tripped over a desk, and fell on his butt. “No-no-nothing, sir. I was just helping her…”

  “WITH WHAT? A CAVITY?” Mr. Hinshaw pointed to both of us. “YOU TWO. WITH ME. NOW.”

  21

  Nina

  I’d never been in trouble at school before, but there was a first time for everything.

  My heart pounded, but, surprisingly, it had nothing to do with being caught by Mr. Hinshaw. My skin still tingled from Tyler’s touch, and I deeply, deeply regretted not kissing him when I had the chance. Girls like me didn’t get many chances to kiss boys like him.

  “I’m telling you, it wasn’t Nina’s fault,” Tyler said.

  “Save it for the principal,” Mr. Hinshaw snapped. He marched us through the science wing, taking the most direct route towards the principal’s office. Which would conveniently lead us through the cafeteria just as lunch was about to end. “I can’t believe you two, all over each other like… like…”

  “Teenagers?” Tyler suggested.

  “Animals!” Mr. Hinshaw pushed open the door. “I would have expected better from you, Miss Martinez.”

  “Sorry,” I said, hanging my head to hide my smile at Tyler’s comment.

  We were near the outdoor cafeteria. A few students were looking at us, but it wasn’t completely unusual to see a teacher walk students through the cafeteria. If we really wanted to get the rumor mill going, we needed a dash more.

  Walking in front of Mr. Hinshaw, I reached out and took Tyler’s hand.

  It looked like the vein in his forehead might burst. He shouted, “will you two keep your hands to yourselves for the thirty seconds that it takes to walk to the office? Didn’t he let you borrow his tongue for long enough?”

  Gasps.

  Whispers.

  Laughter.

  And that “oooo” sound people made when they knew someone was really in trouble.

  We heard it all.

  Perfect.

  I stifled a laugh. Being in trouble with Tyler felt… exhilarating.

  On our way to the Principal’s office, we passed Mason, who shot us a confused look. Then a couple of senior girls, whose eyes all widened. Kenzie, who shook her head, distraught. And finally, a few of the guys from the football team. They wolf whistled and held their hands up for high fives before Mr. Hinshaw shoo-ed them away.

  I stared at the ground as I walked, trying my best to look like I was sorry and embarrassed. But secretly, I was smiling. I did everything I could to keep that smile off my face when the principal handed us detention – on a Saturday, of all things.

  Detention was a small price to pay for setting the school rumor mill into overdrive.

  22

  Nina

  Detention at Beachbreak High wasn’t the regular after-school special. Oh no, that would’ve been way too humane. At Beachbreak, detention was taken seriously. And seriously meant Saturday. ALL DAY Saturday.

  When I got to school at 7.30am, Tyler was already there, sitting outside the administration office. His head was lolled to the side, and he was snoring softly.

  I took the seat next to him and quietly pulled out my phone to record him snoring. After sending the video to Zoe, I pocketed my phone and cleared my throat.

  Tyler jolted awake.

  “Tired?” I asked, grinning.

  “Morning,” he said, rubbing his eyes. He was wearing sweatpants, a faded USC hoodie, and flip-flops. It looked like he had literally rolled out of bed. And yet he still looked handsome.

  “Coffee?” I held out my reusable coffee mug.

  “Way ahead of you.” Tyler pulled a Red Bull out of his hoodie.

  We waited in companionable silence for a few minutes.

  Mrs. Cortez, a middle-aged teacher who always dressed in neat slacks and crisp blouses, stepped out of the administrator’s office and eyed us both. She was holding a tablet. I’d never taken one of her classes, but Tyler clearly had. His eyes lit up, like he knew he was about to get off the hook for something.

  “Mrs. C! Why’d they put you on detention duty?” Tyler asked.

  “Because you can’t stay out of trouble,” Mrs. Cortez said. “What did they book you for this time?”

  Tyler jerked his thumb in my direction. “Kissing Nina.”

  My entire body turned beetroot red. He was seriously going to say that in front of a teacher? Like, I knew that she probably knew why we were here, but he didn’t have to go out and say it.

  “And you must be Nina,” Mrs. Cortez said, unruffled. “You’ve never taken one of my classes.”

  “I’ll be in Life Skills next semester.”

  “Good. My class covers what happens when a boy and a girl are alone in the dark for too long. And the consequences of said actions.”

  Oh.

  My.

  Goodness.

  I buried my face in my hands. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize,” Mrs. Cortez said. “You’re just doing what your hormones want you to. Don’t worry – we cover that too.”

  I could not have been more embarrassed.

  Mrs. Cortez skimmed through names on her tablet. “There’s six of you in total today, but as the other four are running late, you two can have the first pick of tasks.”

  I’d never been to detention before, and I’d been envisioning hours of writing lines. Or writing a 20 page paper entitled “What I Learned From My Mistake.”

  I certainly wasn’t expecting… choices.

  Tyler looked like he had a little more experience with detention. He leaned forward. “What’s up for grabs today?”

  Mrs. Cortez looked down at a clipboard. “Ok, we have kitchen prep duties — that would only take the morning, but...”

  “Cleaning the grease traps? No thanks.” Tyler made a face. “What are the other options?”

  “Polishing the trophies in the school cabinet and cleaning all the windows.”

  “Next.”

  “Or — if you’re feeling cheerful — Christmas decorations.”

  “You’ll want to give us that one,” Tyler said. “We were second place in the Christmas Tree Decorating Competition.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Tyler was on a stepladder, looping a string of Christmas lights over the Beachbreak High school crest in the reception area.

  I was supposed to be holding the ladder steady, but I was shaking my head in disbelief. “I can’t believe our punishment is getting to decorate for Christmas.”

  “Yeah, Mrs. C’s the best.” Tyler peered down at me. “You don’t want Hinshaw to take detention. Last time, he sent me and Jace to the cafeteria to clean out the grease traps. Principal Blume can be worse, but he usually lets you work outside. Help clean the grounds and stuff, so it’s not too bad.”

  I looked down the hallway, where Mrs. Cortez was brusquely instructing Fred Francis (a notorious burnout who was always skipping class) on how best to polish the trophies in the cabinet. She looked impatient.

  “She seems to like you,” I said.

  “She has a soft spot for football players,” Tyler admitted.

  “How does it feel to be King?”

  Tyler hopped off the ladder and put a Christmas garland on my head like a crown. “It feels excellent, my queen.”

  I laughed.

  Tyler’s good humor and winning smile were infectious – even at Beachbreak High, on a Saturday, during detention. I grabbed another string of Christmas lights and wrapped them around Tyler. “We’d better decorate the King, too.”

  Instead of protesting, Tyl
er spun around, assisting me in wrapping the lights around him again and again until he was practically mummified. Then he shuffled over to an outlet. “Plug me in!”

  I lit him up like a Christmas tree.

  23

  Tyler

  By midday, Nina and I had wrapped me in Christmas lights twice, hung as many ornaments as we could off each other, and sprayed the words “Merry Christmas Ya Filthy Animals” on the floor of the science wing with a can of decorative snow spray.

  The school itself was still undecorated.

  But that hardly mattered. As Nina dropped to the floor with a cloth and some cleaning spray, her dark eyes sparkled. We’d had so much fun. The morning had flown by. I’d never noticed the way she pulled on the ends of her hair when she was thinking, or how she examined her fingernails when she was embarrassed.

  She squirted some spray on the floor and wiped away our graffiti. I sat next to her with my cloth to help.

  “Hey, Nina?”

  She tilted her head. “Yeah?”

  “I have a question for you.”

  “Shoot.” She kept scrubbing.

  “What happened with you and Parker?”

  Nina jerked her head up. “What? Why? What did you hear?”

  “Just curious,” I said. “But you don’t have to tell me.”

  She sighed. “It’s fine.”

  I waited, giving her time.

  She let out a big breath. “Parker and I used to be inseparable. Like me and Zoe are now. Parker and I rode our bikes, went to the beach, gymnastic lessons, sleepovers every weekend, that kind of thing.”

  “Huh. Didn’t realize she had regular human emotions.” I couldn’t imagine Parker and Nina being close. It was like finding out that a lion was best friends with an antelope.

  “Then middle school happened. Parker started caring about what everyone else thought. When she came over for sleepovers, she would trash talk literally everyone and start putting together ridiculous schemes to undermine them. I thought she was just messing around, venting. But then, she started to actually take action. And the worst part is, it worked. Parker got popular, leaving me behind.”

  Nina finished wiping up the graffiti. “We still saw each other, just after school, in private. One day, we went to the beach together. Parker was acting super weird, wearing a bikini that was probably a size too small, trying to get the boys’ attention. And, Parker being Parker, it worked.”

  I felt a lump in my throat. I could almost see Nina desperately trying to hang onto her friendship. And I could see that it was headed for inevitable disaster. “You don’t have to—”

  “I said it’s fine,” Nina snapped. She let out a sigh. “Sorry. Anyway. We met these guys. High school boys. I was scared, I didn’t want to hang out with them. But Parker did, and I didn’t want to leave her alone with two high school boys, either.”

  “You didn’t call anyone?”

  “Who would I call? My mom? At thirteen, in front of the most popular girl in school? That would’ve been even more of a popularity death sentence.” Nina shrugged. “I should have, but I didn’t. So Parker decided that we should play truth or dare. And, when we started playing, she dared me to kiss one of the guys.”

  I sat perfectly still, processing everything Nina was telling me. I could see the hurt, the insecurity written in her eyes.

  “I told you I’ve never been kissed, but that wasn’t completely true,” Nina said. “Parker dared me to kiss the guy. I didn’t want to. I felt like I was going to throw up. But Parker kept pressuring me. Telling me to grow up. Don’t be a baby. And so I kissed him. Just a peck. Not that that was good enough for Parker – when I kissed the boy, she laughed so hard she cried. She said I kissed like a grandma.”

  “What did you do?”

  Nina smiled grimly. “Ran home and cried. And that was the end of my friendship with Parker.”

  I pulled her into a hug. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It was good for me,” she said. “As much as it sucked. I decided from then on to never let myself get pushed around or pressured into anything again. To be proud of who I am. Even the embarrassing parts. Especially the embarrassing parts.”

  I wrapped my arms around her tightly. She was so brave, so spirited, so unapologetically herself – even after being hurt.

  I whispered, “you’re amazing.”

  In response, her stomach grumbled.

  I laughed. “Need a bite?”

  “I didn’t bring lunch.”

  “Me neither – but I know just where to go.”

  24

  Nina

  Tyler and I scurried between the stone tables that marked Beachbreak High’s cafeteria. We were on a direct shot for the kitchen. Neither of us were really sure if we were allowed in there or not, but when you reached a certain stage of hunger, rules no longer applied.

  “Here we go,” Tyler said. He twisted the doorknob and grinned. “It’s unlocked. Whoever was on kitchen duty must’ve forgotten.”

  I peered into the darkness. “Are you sure we’re allowed inside?”

  “Nervous?” Ty asked, cocking an eyebrow. “If you are, you can always wait here. I can just find something and bring it out.”

  “I’m not letting you have all the fun,” I said. I pushed past Tyler and entered the kitchen. My chest fluttered with excitement. “This seems extra bad. Like we’re already on detention and we’re breaking the rules. Where do they send you after detention?”

  “That’s what makes it fun,” Tyler said, slowly closing the door behind us. Our only light was a row of windows at the far end of the room. Rays of sun fell on the stainless-steel countertops. The only sound was his footsteps. “If we get in trouble, you can blame me.”

  “That was the plan.”

  Tyler snickered. “Let’s get some food.”

  I felt another thrill of excitement as we searched through the kitchen. Maybe it was because I knew I was not supposed to be there. Or maybe it’s because I was doing something I wasn’t supposed to do with Tyler. Or maybe it was because this was our secret, something only him and I would know. Whatever it was, I couldn’t wipe the excited grin from my face.

  Tyler opened one cupboard. “Flour, sugar. Could probably find some eggs and milk in the fridge.”

  “Planning to bake me cookies?”

  “Can’t – forgot my apron.”

  “Can I just say that I love the idea of you wearing an apron? You’d make a good housewife.”

  “I’d make a GREAT housewife.” Tyler opened another cupboard and pulled out a box of pancake mix. “Not the healthiest of lunches, but…”

  “We’d have to do the dishes after.”

  “Would we?”

  “We can’t leave evidence,” I said.

  “Fine.” Tyler winked and shoved the box of pancake mix back in the cupboard. Pretending to be exasperated, he flicked the cupboard door closed—

  Only he put too much effort behind it.

  The cupboard shut with a loud SLAM.

  We froze.

  And that’s when we heard it—

  Footsteps, coming our way.

  Just outside the door.

  I turned. Stared at the door in horror as the knob turned. Suddenly, breaking the rules didn’t seem like fun anymore. Just how much trouble were we in now? Would they yell at us? Give us another detention? Suspend us? Expel us?

  While I was frozen with a dumb look on my face, Tyler sprung into action. He ran to me, wrapped his arms around my body, and pulled me down to the floor, twisting to cradle my body with his. I landed on top of him and there was a “whoosh” as he let out a breath of air. We were hidden behind the counter.

  The door creaked open.

  The kitchen lights flickered on.

  Tyler put one finger to his lips, telling me to be quiet.

  Which of course gave me the almost irresistible urge to giggle. Tyler must’ve noticed, because ever so slowly, a smirk spread across his face. That smirk turned into a grin, and that gri
n turned into a smile.

  Still laying on top of him, I closed my eyes. If I looked at his face any longer, I would definitely burst out laughing. Silently, I shuddered with laughter, burying my head against his chest. Which, even in my panic, I noticed was broad, solid, and muscular.

  “I swear I heard something.” The voice belonged to Mrs. Cortez, who was apparently talking to herself. “This is why I hate weekends.”

  She left and closed the door.

  Tyler and I lay together, shaking with silent laughter. His entire body was vibrating, and I was laughing so hard I was soaking his shirt with tears. He was still gripping me tightly, and as far as I was concerned, he could keep holding me forever.

  All too soon, we sorted ourselves out, and Tyler pulled himself up to a sitting position, away from me.

  “Sorry if I crushed you.”

  “No, it was great,” I said.

  Then I realized what I’d said. My cheeks reddened.

  “I mean... it was fine,” I corrected. “Quick thinking.”

  “Close call. Now I’m definitely starving.”

  I almost burst out laughing again. “We almost get caught and you want to STAY?”

  Tyler leaned over and covered my mouth with his hand. “Not if you’re going to keep yelling. Maybe try your inside voice?”

  “Sorry,” I mumbled through his palm, “I play trumpet. I’m loud.”

  He grinned. “One of the many things I like about you.”

  One of the many things?

  Before I could press further, Tyler was on his feet, digging through the cupboards like a raccoon. Finally, he found something. With a flourish, he pulled out a tray of monster-sized cookies.

  “Double chocolate chip,” he said. “Sounds like lunch to me.”

  I took the tray of cookies from him. “I think we’ll need more than cookies for lunch.”

  “Right.” Tyler darted to the fridge, opened it, and then returned with two cartons of milk, each with a striped straw taped to the side. “Cookies and milk. If it’s good enough for Santa, it’s good enough for me.”