Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
ELIZABETH
My phone blows up with nonstop text messages, and it’s driving me crazy. Is this what I had to put up with every day?
Groaning my frustration because all I want to do is sleep, I reluctantly roll over and grab my phone off the nightstand.
Hellcat: Good morning.
Ryder attached a picture.
God, we look young, maybe nine or ten years old. We’re sitting in a car, me in the driver’s seat, him in the passenger seat, the photographer at the open driver’s side window. For fun, he added the hashtags #firstdaywemet, #instantbestfriends, #thisgirlistheboss, #adrenalinejunkie to the text message. I save the photo to my cloud storage, but not before I stare at it for a while. Even as a kid, Ryder was handsome. I swipe two fingers wide on the screen to enlarge the image before closing it.
Me: Good morning.
His reply is instantaneous.
Hellcat: Want to take your car out to the track tomorrow?
Me: A racetrack?
Hellcat: Yep.
Me: How would that work?
Hellcat: It’s a closed course. I’d be with you in the car.
Getting excited, I type back.
Me: Will you teach me how to drift?
I may have stalked him online last night before bed. It was surreal watching videos of him race, and even weirder seeing me standing in the crowd with Jayson and Julien, cheering him on.
Hellcat: Absolutely.
Me: Send me the address and the time.
I read Julien’s text next.
Doppelganger: Lunch today? Elijah has to work.
There are ones from Jayson and Elijah, too.
ScaryGuy: Morning, Princess.
Elijah: So good to see you last night. I haven’t seen Julien so happy in a long time.
What kind of person did I used to be to have this kind of adoration from guys who are honestly the most gorgeous men I have ever seen? Even the scary one.
It was clear from last night that I mean something to each of them. They all care deeply about me. The way Jayson watched me. It was intense, just like him. Julien and Elijah showered me with attention. And then there’s Ryder.
Clearly, there’s something between us. It’s tangible. I feel it. I think he does, too. That instant tug, that powerful pull, those strong emotions that made me run away from him at the student center, but also had me running toward him after Jayson barged into my apartment.
Me: Lunch sounds good.
Doppelganger: Come over to our place. I’ll cook.
He sends me the address.
Doppelganger: Around one p.m. good?
Me: Perfect. See you then.
I switch back to Ryder.
Me: In the photo, whose car were we in?
Hellcat: My dad’s. You about busted out all our garage windows revving the engine. race car emoji
Me: Having lunch with Julien today. At his place.
A small, hopeful part of me wants Ryder to crash our lunch, so I can see him again.
Hellcat: I know. Jules just told us.
Me: He’s with you?
Hellcat: We live together.
That never came up last night.
Ryder sends a picture of the three of them sitting down at a counter island, breakfast in front of them.
ScaryGuy: No good morning for me? I feel left out.
Me: Good morning, Jayson.
ScaryGuy: Would you rather…go watch a movie or go watch a sunset?
There’s a sudden, brief spark of recognition, but it fades just as quickly.
Me: Definitely a sunset.
Julien: Sunrise for me.
Are they reading each other’s texts?
I create a group chat.
Me: Got to go. Julien, I’ll see you later. Turning off my phone now.
I need to set some boundaries, or else I have a feeling I’ll get steamrolled.
Getting out of bed, I pull the blinds and stretch my arms overhead, enjoying the first kiss of sunlight on my face.
Carolina University is located near the coast, slightly inland but close enough to do easy day trips to the beach. If I leave now, I can be back in time for lunch with Julien.
Changing clothes into something more beach appropriate, I pull on a T-shirt and a pair of jean shorts. I’m still not comfortable showing my scars or the tattoos, so I grab a long-sleeved hoodie to put on over my top.
Walking into the kitchen, I grab a water and a trail bar, slip on my flip-flops, and head out to my car.
With the windows rolled down and my music cranked up, the drive to the beach is short, about thirty minutes. Once I cross the bridge over the Intracoastal Waterway, I follow the two-lane road to the farthest end of the barrier island and park on the side of the road next to a public access.
Taking the weathered wood plank walkway that leads over the dunes, I kick off my flip-flops, leaving them on the last step, and curl my toes into the soft, fine-grained sand, already warm after soaking up the sun’s early morning rays. There are a scattering of umbrellas and sunshades dotted along the beach and occupied by families enjoying the last days of the summer before school starts.
Shielding my eyes, I gaze across the infinite expanse of water. The sun’s angle creates a crystalline effect that causes the ripples to sparkle like they’re made of tiny, brilliant diamonds. Along the horizon, a fishing trawler moves out into deeper waters. Breathing deeply, the smell of the ocean is heavenly, a mix of salt spray and coconut, which is weird because there are no palm trees anywhere. That’s when I see a mom spraying her little girl with sunscreen.
Pulling my sunglasses down, I get out my earbuds and slip them in, select a playlist from my phone, and walk toward one of the shallow wading pools created by the low tide.
I dip my toe into overly warm water, the seafoam bubbles popping where my foot makes contact. A tiny hermit crab scuttles over my toes, tickling them with its pointed legs.
“Hey, little guy.”
It immediately retreats into its shell as soon as I pick it up.
A muffled voice seeps through the low thrum of my music. I look up to find a guy standing a few feet away, smiling.
He’s tall and lean, built like Julien but with less bulk than Jayson or Ryder. Wisps of dark-blond hair curl out from under a faded baseball cap, and I can’t see his eyes because he’s wearing blacked-out aviators.
I pull out an earbud. “Did you say something?”
“It’s called a striped,” he says.
As if hearing him, the hermit crab cautiously peeks its head out.
“You know what kind of crab this is?”
“Yeah,” he replies, his grin widening. “Marine biology major.”
I turn the shell over in my hand, marveling at how the sunlight dances on the glossy pink and blue pearlescent surface, before placing it back in the water.
The guy removes his hat and rakes a hand through his hair. “I’m Trevor. Nice to meet you…”
Oh, right. Manners.
“Elizabeth. Nice to meet you, too. Have a good day.”
I offer a polite smile, hoping that’ll end the conversation. Instead, he falls into step beside me as I continue my stroll down the beach.
“Live around here?” he asks.
“Just moved here for college. You?”
“Ah, so you’re a CU Wildcat, too. I go there. Third year.”
“Small world,” I reply.
I don’t want to be rude, but I hope he gets bored and leaves me alone.
Spotting a shark’s tooth partially buried in the sand, I pick it up and pocket it.
Trevor crouches and scoops up several shells in the shapes of butterflies.
“Coquinas,” he says, offering them to me.
I hold them in my palm, tracing their fragile outlines with my thumb. A few are chipped, their once beautiful forms now broken.
Broken butterfly.
A sudden heaviness swells in my chest, and my vision blurs.
She wanted to fly, but her wings were broken.
She dreamed dreams, but they weren’t allowed to be spoken.
Her feelings pushed down her throat left her choking.
“Don’t you see, Elizabeth?”
Trevor’s touch jolts me back to reality, his hand suddenly on my arm.
“Whoa, there,” he says, steadying me when I try to jerk away. “Are you okay?”
I blink rapidly, shaking my head to clear the fog. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine.” He frowns. Pulling a bottle of water from his shorts’ pocket, he thrusts it into my hand. “It’s hot today, probably too much sun. Drink. It’ll help.”
I twist off the cap and take a few gulps, but it does little to calm the unease swirling in my chest.
“I’ll just sit for a minute.”
“I’ll sit with you. Can’t have you keeling over. What would my scout troop leader think?”
I glance at him. He doesn’t look like a Boy Scout, not with the intricate tattoos I see wrapping around both arms.
“You were in the Boy Scouts?”
“No,” he replies with a light chuckle. “But I do like rescuing damsels in distress.”
“This damsel’s not in distress, and if she was, she knows how to handle herself.”
“I’d believe you if all the color hadn’t drained from your face and you didn’t almost pass out right in front of me.”
“Low blood sugar.”
It’s the same excuse I gave Preston, but this time, I’m worried. It’s the third time I’ve zoned out in a little more than twenty-four hours.
I take out my phone to look at the time and decide to cut my beach trip short.
Getting up, I brush sand off the backs of my legs. “Thanks for the water.”
“Keep it,” he says when I try to give it back. “Maybe we’ll run into each other on campus.”
Doubtful.
“Maybe.”
I head back to the beach access and retrieve my flip-flops. When I reach the top step, something has me looking over my shoulder.
Trevor is still standing where I left him, watching me. He gives a wave when he sees me looking. I wave back.
I doubt I’ll ever see him again.