CHAPTER 2
I’d met Beckham Jennings for the first time when I was eight years old, and I’d fallen in love at first sight.
In love the way children could be in love, doodling names together inside a carved heart and spying with their hands smothering their giggles.
Beckham had been a year and a half older than me, tall even as a kid, and handsome.
He’d gone to a different school, so I’d only been able to see him at Alderton-Du Ponte fundraisers and events, where our parents brought us and promptly forgot about our existence.
But it wasn’t just his prettiness that I’d liked. When he’d smile—and it wouldn’t be often—it’d cause a strange feeling to stir in my stomach, and I didn’t realize until middle school that those were butterflies. The first and only boy to give them to me like a gift.
The crush had lasted years. I’d looked forward to every Alderton-Du Ponte party. I’d steal Mom’s earrings and wear them in hopes Beck would see them and think I was pretty.
It’d been a perfect sort of one-sided crush—until it wasn’t.
I-N-E-V-I-T-A-B-L-E.
At Alderton-Du Ponte, without the right connections, one slip-up could send you tumbling straight down the social pyramid, stripping you bare on the way down until there was nothing left but smoke and rags.
And sometimes, even the right connections couldn’t save you.
Sometimes, once the fire caught, there was no putting it out.
The fire had more than caught Beck four years ago—it’d burned him alive.
And I’d been the one to light the flame.
“It was not an accident,” Daisy said for the third time, countering the lame excuse that fell off Beck’s lips. “How hard is it to apologize?”
Beck lounged against the wall with his arms loosely folded over his chest, peering sadly into his empty cup. “Nellie and I took the corner at the same time. Shouldn’t you be scolding her, too?”
Daisy and Jamie had been standing near the doorway when Beck tipped his drink over, washing our shoes.
Daisy had grabbed my arm and helped me away from the ballroom’s doorway, and away from any eyes that might’ve been looking to pick up any gossip.
We now stood near the bathrooms, where she’d ducked in and gotten a damp paper towel.
“I saw you dump your cup over on her.”
“I don’t see how you could’ve, given your low vantage point.”
She scoffed. “A height joke. Real clever. Who even are you, anyway?”
I gripped Jamie’s shoulder tighter, using it as leverage while Daisy worked out the juice from my shoes. Up until that moment, he’d been assessing the situation in silence. “He used to be a member here,” Jamie told her, voice quiet. “Beckham Jennings.”
Daisy froze, and I tried to remember what bits of gossip she might’ve heard about Beck.
Daisy only joined as a member at Alderton-Du Ponte sophomore year, since almost all the upperclassmen at Cardale Preparatory had a membership.
I’d never, ever talked about Beck, but the other girls at the club might’ve.
For one moment, I thought I’d gotten lucky, and Daisy might not remember anything about Beck after all.
But then she arched a brow. “They let arsonists back on the property now?”
A-R-S-O-N-I-S-T-S. The word was like a flame itself, lighting my stomach on fire.
“Only as long as I pinky swear not to have a lighter on me.” Beck’s eyes flicked from Daisy up to latch onto mine. “Also, arsonist is quite a boring term. I prefer pyromaniac.”
A dark sort of glee had filled his voice, mocking in a way only I would pick up on.
In my short life, I hadn’t made many decisions I’d regretted. Every move I made was calculated. Pored over until I couldn’t find a flaw with the decision. I could remember the last time I’d allowed myself to act in the heat of the moment—and it’d been four years ago.
And, looking at Beck, it felt like I’d been transported back to that very moment.
You have to like me at least a little, I’d told him once upon a time. Because I like you a lot.
“It’s all right,” I said, impressed with the strength in my voice.
It didn’t sound like my world was toppling sideways—only felt like it.
“I should’ve looked where I was going. It wasn’t…
his fault.” I couldn’t force my tongue to form the shape of his name, despite my mind’s eagerness at spelling it.
Daisy looked up at me, and the worry in her eyes was not for my now orange-scented toes. I wondered if she could see through me.
“You dyed your hair,” Jamie said after a long beat, tone neutral. His eyes were on Beck, just not fierce in the way Daisy’s were.
Beck reached up and tugged a hand through the strands, tousling it further. It almost looked more white than blond, and the darkness of his roots seemed to bleed into it. “Bleached it, actually. Lydia says I look like an anime character.”
I couldn’t help but jolt a bit hearing Lydia’s name on his lips. They hadn’t been friends before. There’s a blond guy, Daisy had said earlier. Super hot. Lydia was dancing with him.
Jamie nodded slightly. “It suits you.”
Daisy whirled on Jamie for the compliment, eyes narrowing.
But he’d spoken the words that’d been whispering in the back of my mind.
Beck’s hair was naturally a dark brown, and he used to keep it cut short because his mother had hated it in his eyes.
Longer like this, and bleached, gave him a wild edge that matched his eyes.
A look that suited the image he’d started crafting four years ago.
The boy in front of me now—man, really, since he was nineteen—was a stranger. Taller, more muscular, with a stronger line to his jaw. The only familiar thing about Beckham Jennings was his eyes.
Eyes I couldn’t bring myself to look into.
“You grew,” Beck said to Jamie, a small curve to his lips. “Like a weed. What are you now, six-two?”
“Six-four.”
Beck gave a low whistle.
“I didn’t realize you were coming back.” Jamie’s voice took on a strange quality now, almost laced with an edge. “I didn’t think you were ever coming back.”
Beck slid his hands into his dress pants’ pockets, rocking back on his heels. He gave a lazy shrug. “Aunt Ally said she missed me. Apparently convinced the board of Richies to give me another shot. Who can say no to free room, board, and meals for a summer?”
“A summer?” My hand slipped off Jamie’s dress shirt, and without him balancing me, my foot slammed into the ground. “You’re here… for the whole summer?”
Beck’s head had tipped down, watching Daisy set my heel in front of me. When I spoke, only his eyes swiveled up. The green was almost electric as it cut through his dark lashes, and it zapped me even from several feet away.
“The whole summer,” Beck confirmed slowly, and gave me a crooked smile. “Exciting, isn’t it?”
I could feel Jamie looking at me, and Daisy’s head also tipped up, both gauging my reaction.
So running into Beck tonight wasn’t just a one-off. It was only the beginning.
More like the beginning of the end.
Something stronger slipped down my spine. The old Nellie had been the one cowering. The Nellie I was now lifted her chin. “Not the word I’d use.”
“No. It wouldn’t be, would it?” His twisted smile didn’t fade. “Who’s Mr. ASMR?”
And just like that, he’d toppled my confidence almost as quickly as I’d built it. “W-What?”
“You asked if I was Mr. ASMR. A part of me just wanted to say yes, to see how you’d react, except it sounds like an embarrassing thing to admit to.”
Of course Beck wasn’t Mr. ASMR. It’d been a ridiculous thing to ask, and an even more ridiculous thing to hope for.
There was nothing calming about his presence, nothing gentle about his ringed fingers.
Beckham Jennings wouldn’t sit by the Bayview Pier and record the sounds of the beach.
He wouldn’t have responded so warmly to my message. He probably would’ve blocked me.
Humiliation trickled down my throat, both because he knew and because he didn’t.
“If it isn’t you, then you don’t need to bother yourself with it,” I said with a polite smile, one I’d mastered. “If you’ll excuse us, we should probably go in and make our rounds before the ceremony starts.”
Beck arched a dark brow. “You speak like that now?”
Don’t take the bait, Nellie. “Speak like what?”
“So… insufferably proper.” He tipped his head to one side, then the other. “Don’t tell me you got boring, Nell.”
Over the past four years, I’d wondered what it’d be like running into Beckham Jennings again.
I’d wished it had never happened. I’d hoped it would.
It was a confusing dichotomy that I’d found myself having over and over.
During the day, the thought of him would make my stomach turn.
At night, before falling asleep, the thought of him would make my chest ache.
I didn’t want to see him… and I did.
And now, the moment had finally come to pass, and I realized which emotion was true—I absolutely did not want to see him. Not here. Not now. Not with the Pembletons and the entirety of Alderton-Du Ponte society fifty feet away.
I once more hooked my arm through Daisy’s, except this time, I could feel myself tremble against her side. “Well, I’d hate to bore you further.” Get distance, my thoughts screamed. D-I-S-T-A-N-C-E. “Have a good rest of your evening.”
“Oh,” Beck said before I could get more than a step away, “I will.”
I wasn’t sure if he’d meant it like a threat. It sounded like one.
Tugging on Daisy’s arm, I dragged her toward the ballroom.
Alderton-Du Ponte’s main event hall truly was something from a dream, with marble floors that reflected the light from the crystal chandelier above.
The ceilings were mostly made out of glass, which served as a beautiful canvas for the sunset.
It blazed now through the glass, since night hadn’t quite taken over yet, giving everyone beneath it a golden glow.
I barely took it in. My heart was pounding too hard.