Chapter 14
Black grease clings stubbornly to my skin, no matter how harshly I scrub at my palms. I give up on the stains, tossing the rag away, and climb into the driver’s seat to turn the key. The engine roars to life on the first try, and I smile, satisfied, as I clear the sweat from my forehead with the back of my arm.
Before Hank hired me, I knew next to nothing about fixing cars. I’ve picked up more than the basics pretty damn quick.
“Yo, James! Come on!”
I shut the car off and glance toward the doorway. Tuck is standing there, slouched and impatient.
“Come where?”
“We’re headed to the pond.”
I laugh once, relaxing against the seat. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”
“Nope.” Tuck pops the P obnoxiously. “Don’t tell me cold water doesn’t sound amazing right now.”
It does.
Three weeks into September, and summer feels closer than ever. It must be at least eighty-five out today, and the garage doesn’t have air-conditioning, aside from the office where Hank sits and customers pay.
I’ve been sweaty since I showed up for work this morning, and replacing the shift solenoids on this SUV has taken me most of the day. But I’d like my cold water to come with salt and waves. It’s been over a month since I last surfed, and I never expected to miss it as much as I do. Everything else was easy to leave behind.
The pond is on the One side of town. Going there will likely involve lots of territory pissing and muttered insults I’m not really in the mood for.
“I’m good. Still got stuff to finish up here.”
“Like I didn’t just hear it start. Hurry up. Everyone’s waiting.”
Tuck disappears from the doorway without giving me a chance to respond. To refuse.
Dick. Dick who’s my ride home. It’s not that far to walk, but it’ll feel like a marathon in this heat.
I swear under my breath, then climb out of the car.
Tuck is waiting in his green truck when I walk out of the bay. Phoenix is in the car behind with a few other guys from the garage.
I give Tuck a one sec gesture, then head into the office.
Hank has his glasses on, peering at a computer screen.
I toss the Toyota’s keys on the counter. “All set.”
Hank leans back in his swivel chair. Some piece of it creaks. “Impressive, son.”
I nod, hiding the visceral reaction I have to the endearment. It just reminds me of my dad. “You’re a good teacher.”
“More than that. I’ve had guys here for years who would have taken longer to make that repair.”
I smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Sounds good. Have a good night.”
“Thanks.” I glance at the clock. It’s already four p.m., later than I thought.
Tuck sighs dramatically when I climb into the cab of his truck. “Finally.”
“What are the chances I can talk you out of this?” I ask, clicking my seat belt into place.
“Zero,” he replies, pulling onto the street.
I sigh, settling back against the seat. “I’m not wearing a suit.”
“Relax, princess. I’m not either. We’re stopping to change.”
“Okay.”
“You’re coming, Ry.” Tuck says it like he knows exactly what I’m thinking—a ride home means I won’t have to go after all.
I groan. “Why?”
“You could use some fun.”
“At the pond? You know Ones will be there. Wait.” I look over. “Is that what this is about? That girl you’ve been texting?”
“I have no idea if Keira will be there,” Tuck tells me.
“Mmhmm.” I glance back out the window, not sure if I believe him.
We reach my trailer a few minutes later.
“I’ll be back in five,” Tuck tells me.
I nod, then climb out of the truck. The trailer is empty when I enter it, no sign of my mom or Cormac. I have no clue where either of them is. They each have their own routine established. It’s been just the two of them for the past year, since Cormac’s dad packed up and left—again.
My mom has always done her own thing, but my little brother’s schedule is more of a mystery. And concerning. He hasn’t called me to pick him up again, but that doesn’t mean he’s been staying out of trouble.
I change into board shorts, scrub at my hands again, then head outside to wait for Tuck. He’s right; I haven’t done much besides work and school lately. I’ve avoided hanging out with Phoenix after the failed burger trip. Tuck and I spent last night watching movies with Reese, but I haven’t hung out much with anyone, except the two of them.
Tuck smiles when he sees me waiting, cranking up some country song on the radio.
The drive to the pond takes about ten minutes. Tuck parks his truck behind a long line of other cars. We definitely aren’t the only ones here.
The “path” to the pond is basically just trampled grass and bent branches that leads to the clearing surrounding the water. There are a few benches and a couple of picnic tables, but not much else around.
I spot Phoenix and a few other familiar faces underneath a tree and point them out to Tuck. We head in that direction. Reese is part of the group, which is a surprise.
I sink down in the grass next to her, leaning back on my elbows. “Hey.”
“Hey yourself.” Reese is busy eating grapes out of a plastic bag.
I squint over. “Wasn’t expecting to see you here.”
“Ditto.”
“Tuck,” I explain.
“He’s a real dictator.”
I snort, glancing around. I don’t recognize anyone in the other groups camped around the water.
Tall maples shade the edge of the water, casting skinny reflections on the pond’s surface. A tire swing hangs from the tallest one. The water looks clear, but I’ve never actually swum here. Dapples of sunshine filter down through the trees’ leaves.
I’ve only been here once before, and it was freshman year. Elle has a photo from that trip as her phone background, and it’s one of many parts of our conversation on Friday night that’s haunted me.
Something hits me in the cheek.
“Oy!” I swat the air and glance at Reese, who’s doubled over with silent laughter.
I pick up the grape from the grass and throw it back toward her. My aim is as good as hers, bouncing off her shoulder.
“Bet you can’t do this,” she tells me, tossing a grape in the air and catching it in her mouth.
“Try me,” I say.
“Fine. Ready?”
“Ready.”
She pitches another grape my way. I catch it neatly in my mouth, flashing Reese a satisfied grin before chewing and swallowing.
“Beginner’s luck,” she grumbles.
“He’s weirdly coordinated,” Tuck says, plopping down in the grass beside me. He went over to greet Phoenix and the other guys, which seemed unnecessary to me. We spent most of the day together. “You knew that.”
“There’s nothing weird about it,” I tell him.
“Yo! Incoming.”
I roll my head to look at Phoenix. He’s focused on the opposite side of the pond, so of course the rest of us do too.
The group coming down the path is large, at least fifteen people.
My gaze goes straight to Elle, who’s walking with several other girls. Archer Hathaway and a bunch of his football buddies are trailing a few feet behind, all of them headed toward a picnic table near the tire swing.
“This should be interesting,” Reese comments, lying back on her elbows.
I glance at Tuck, who’s keeping busy plucking blades of grass. I think that means Keira’s part of the group, but I don’t know what she looks like to confirm.
“Hathaway’s looking rough,” Roman comments. He’s a fellow senior and Two. A cool guy, as far as I can tell, but I don’t really know him that well.
“That’s what going oh and five and getting dumped will do to you,” Phoenix responds, chuckling. He’s pulled out a joint, the sweet smoke replacing the scent of grass and sunshine.
My chin jerks in his direction, betraying my interest. “What are you talking about?”
“Football team hasn’t won a single game this season.” Nix shakes his head and blows more smoke. “You should really reconsider playing, James. It’s past pathetic at this point.”
I ignore the advice and ask, “Hathaway got dumped?”
Roman shrugs. “Supposedly. Hard to know with the Ones. They like to keep it all in the family, you know.”
“He definitely got dumped,” Zane says, taking the joint from Nix. “Hathaway is in my Spanish class, and all he does is bitch in English. Lately, it’s been about Perry Welch moving in on his girl.”
“Nah, she’s fair game if they broke up,” Roman replies. “Good for Welch. Didn’t know he had those balls on him.”
“Have you seen Elle Clarke?” Nix asks. “Every guy on the team must be taking a pass at that.” He glances at Zane. “We should hit the postgame party this week, man. I bet I can talk Cruz into bringing some favors.”
I glance at Tuck, who’s watching me more closely than I’d like. He’d obviously already heard about Elle breaking up with her boyfriend, and I’m surprised he didn’t tell me. I guess he believed me when I said I was over her, or he’s been too wrapped up with Keira to mention it.
My feelings for Elle have always felt like a weakness. Like something to hide. Fleeting and temporary and never worth announcing.
If the guys keep discussing her, I’m liable to do something stupid. Like stake a claim on her.
I stand and shuck off my shirt. “I’m going in.”
“Bottom is slimy,” Reese warns me.
“Well, we came here to swim. Right, Tuck?”
He doesn’t move from his spot in the grass. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be right there.”
I snort, then head for the tire swing. There are a couple of guys treading water at the opposite end of the pond, but everyone else seems to be here to sunbathe.
I reach the edge of the pond, gripping the rope and staring at the flat surface of the water. It’s impossible to tell how deep it is from here.
“You’re blocking the swing.”
I glance behind me, my hold on the rope tightening as I fight to keep my eyes above Elle’s shoulders. “Hey.”
“Hey.” She pauses about a foot away. Her eyes are on me, not the swing or the pond. “What the hell happened to your hands?”
I release the rope. “Grease. From the garage. I was there all day.”
“You should wear gloves.”
“Probably. Makes it harder to handle tools though.”
Elle makes a sound in the back of her throat, then glances at the tire. “So … you going or just thinking about it?”
“I heard some more gossip about you,” I say instead of answering.
“Oh, yeah?” She crosses her arms, seriously testing my willpower as I fight to keep my gaze on her face. “About what exactly?”
“About you and Hathaway.”
“Hmm.” Elle tugs the hair tie out of her ponytail, snapping the elastic against her wrist. Her hair falls free, and all I can think about is sliding a hand into it.
“You broke up with him?” I ask, not managing to play it cool at all.
A breeze picks up, blowing some pieces of hair across her face and partially covering her expression. My fingers twitch with the urge to brush them away.
“Maybe he dumped me.”
“Nah. Even Hathaway isn’t that much of an idiot.”
A smile plays with the corners of her lips. “Then what does that make you?”
I swallow. “An asshole.”
Elle smirks, and the urge to kiss her is so strong that it burns.
I’m not an impulsive person. I’ve done plenty of things I shouldn’t have. Said lots I shouldn’t. But those were all choices. It was never about the desire being so strong that I couldn’t resist.
Elle Clarke makes me reckless. Around her, I’m incapable of making careful choices.
I rub my jaw, trying to act like I’m still in control. Glance at the tire swing swaying slightly in the warm wind. “You jumping?”
“Yeah. Just wish it were higher.”
“Higher?” I lift an eyebrow. “You an adrenaline junkie now or something?”
“Or something.”
I lose the battle not to drop my attention, my focus falling farther south than I was supposed to look.
Elle’s blue eyes are amused when I meet her gaze again. She tilts her head, dark strands spilling over her shoulder and slipping between the curves of her breasts.
And … fuck. I’m checking her out again.
I can feel the eyes on us. We’re drawing attention from both our respective groups, standing here together and talking.
I shove my hands into the pockets of my board shorts, rocking back onto my heels and deliberating if the eyes on us should bother me. I thought they’d bother Elle. But she seems oblivious to the interest aimed this direction, her posture poised and relaxed as we stare at each other.
I nod toward the tire. “Go ahead.”
“Were you asking or overhearing?” she says.
It takes me a second to realize what Elle is referring to. The blue bikini she’s wearing is partly to blame. The rest is just … her, infiltrating and overwhelming all my senses. Muddling my thoughts.
“Does it matter? I asked you.”
I care, is what I’m admitting. She broke up with her boyfriend, and I care. I’m hoping I’m not foolish for thinking it had something to do with me.
“You’ve also been avoiding me,” she says.
Avoidingis a strong verb. I haven’t made any effort to approach Elle since the Friday night I borrowed her car because I was certain she’d wake up on Saturday and regret every word we exchanged. Because I was sure any forgiveness was proof she no longer cared. Because she had a boyfriend.
“Something wrong with the swing?”
Elle breaks eye contact and glances behind me. Her posture stiffens, barely, but enough that I notice, shoulders tensing and chin lifting an inch.
Reese stops right beside me, propping a hand on her hip.
“Seems fine,” I answer.
“What’s the delay then?” Reese asks. “You usually move pretty fast, Ry.”
I glance at her, but Reese isn’t looking at me. She’s focused on Elle, who’s staring right back. I have this weird urge to step between them while also feeling like I’m stuck in the middle already.
I clear my throat, wishing it were a louder sound that might cut through the tension that’s appeared out of nowhere. “You know Elle?”
“Not really.” Reese’s tone is cool. “And I didn’t know you knew her.”
She’s expecting me to deny it. An awkward silence lingers when I don’t.
“You jumping?” I ask Reese.
“If you jump, Jack.”
I smile. Reese has a thing for classic films and has roped me and Tucker into watching plenty. Last night was a Hitchcock marathon, but Titanic is her all-time favorite.
She smiles back, proud I caught the reference.
“You chicken out, James? It’s gotta be, what? A five-foot drop into calm water?”
I snort as Tuck completes our usual trio, his curious gaze landing on Elle the same way Reese’s did. Minus a lot of antagonism. Like I told Elle, he’s always taken the us versus them mentality a lot less seriously than the rest of our neighborhood. Unless they give him a reason not to, he gets along with everyone.
“Hey. I’m Tuck.”
I watch as my best friend holds a hand out to Elle, reading her reaction closely. I’ve never seen her talk to a Two before.
“Hey.” She smiles back at him. “I’m Elle.”
Tuck chuckles. “I know who you are, Clarke.”
“Right. Small towns.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Tuck replies, his grin growing.
Elle glances at me, a move Tuck doesn’t miss. I’m guessing Reese doesn’t either, but I don’t check to confirm. She’s going to have questions later.
I look at Elle instead. “You can go first.”
She rolls her eyes. “Ladies first?”
“Sure.” I pause. “If there was a lady present.”
Reese and Tuck both look at me like I’m crazy, but Elle laughs. The sound hits me square in the center of my chest.
Elle steps toward the swing. I spot the divot in the grass a split second before her foot lands on it, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the left. Straight into my body. She collides with my bare chest. We stand like that, her pulse thundering against my thumb as my fingers encircle her delicate wrist. Probably from surprise. But I flatter myself and think of how many times she blushed that Friday night. Maybe it has something to do with me touching her too.
She’s not the only one affected.
All I can think about is the last time we were this close to each other wearing this little clothing.
“Typical,” she says.
I glance down at Elle, who’s looking up at me. “You’re welcome.”
“You can’t resist catching. Doesn’t matter what it is.”
“It matters. You’re heavier than a football.”
Elle bites her bottom lip to keep the smile from forming. But she can’t do anything about the creases of amusement that appear in the corners of her eyes. “Much heavier than a can of beer.”
“You heard about that, huh?”
“Came up during my breakup actually.”
“I’d say I’m sorry, but …”
“Yeah, I know. You’re not.” She steps back.
My hand drops reluctantly.
“You’re a real hero, Ry,” Reese says. “That hole had to be three inches deep at least.”
I glance over and raise an eyebrow at her. She raises one right back, and I’m not sure what to make of it.
Elle grabs the rope and pulls it back, way farther than I expected.
“Elle …”
It feels like there’s a rubber band squeezing my chest. The same panic as when she was staring down at that pool appears.
There could be rocks on the bottom. Sharp sticks. Who the hell knows what, aside from slime?
She glances over at me and winks. “Relax, Ry. You won’t have to catch me.”
Before I can respond, she’s flying through the air. The band around my chest tightens as she lets go of the rope and spins. She flips twice, then drops cleanly into the water. I finally exhale when she breaks through the surface and starts swimming toward the edge.
Tuck reaches out to grab the swing as it returns to shore. “I should have made that bet a hundred.”
I flip him off, but I’m pretty sure he’s too busy climbing on the tire to notice.