Chapter 3 – “Please Don’t Be” - Hazlett #2
I nod, watching her feet leave the railing a fraction of a second before I leap along with her.
Time flashes as we fall through the air, and suddenly, I’m engulfed in the shocking cold of the ocean.
Our bodies sink down between the waves, and my eyes are screwed shut, but I can feel her next to me.
Her hand grips mine, our legs brushing as we kick toward the surface.
The whoosh of water rushes past my ears as she strokes our arms, pushing us upward.
The sun’s rays greet my skin as I break through the water, opening my eyes and blinking at the daylight.
My blurry vision mostly clears, though I can’t see perfectly without my glasses.
Still, I do make out Leo and Everett racing through the waves toward the shore.
Elena pulls her hand from mine, laughing as she wipes wet hair from her eyes.
Zach treads water nearby, watching us intensely—as if trying to see whether our limbs were entwined beneath the surface.
If I’m not mistaken, there may be jealousy on his face, and my chest swells with some kind of strange pride at the sight.
As Zach’s eyes meet mine, that expression is wiped away by a smile. He cuts through the water, closing the distance between us. Lifting himself up, he places two hands on top of my head and tries pushing me below again. “Look at you, baby bro. You did it.”
“Fuck off,” I gargle through a mouth of salt water as he pushes me down.
I grab his arms and shove him off me, but he only laughs, finally letting me go in a show of strength and mercy.
Zach is athletic, while I am…not as much.
I have endurance, sure. I’ve always been fast and agile, but sports just don’t interest me.
It makes sense that we have different builds and tastes and interests, given that Zach is adopted.
My mother was supposedly unable to get pregnant not long after my parents got married, so they went through the process of adopting Zach.
A year or so later, she miraculously got pregnant with me.
People don’t comment on it much; it’s not noticeable enough to most. He has dark features and light skin like my dad. They don’t necessarily look alike, but it’s not enough for most to question a relation. I am, however, the spitting image of my mother—or so I’m told.
She was born in Greece and moved to the United States after being discovered by a modeling agency while on a trip to Amsterdam as a teen.
She was a fairly prominent soap opera star in the nineties and has often been dubbed one of the most beautiful women in the world, so I can’t complain.
I’ve got her forest-green eyes, olive-toned skin, and a sprinkle of freckles that’s most visible in the summer, plus her chestnut brown curls.
Being the miracle baby-twin to our mother is something that has always bothered Zach. He doesn’t say it out loud, but we can all see it. He does a decent job of not taking it out on me, at least.
I’m pulled from my thoughts as I realize both Zach and Elena are at least fifteen yards ahead of me now, paddling toward shore.
Leo and Everett are already back on land, discarding the waterproof backpack Leo jumped with as they put on their clothes.
By the time Elena and Zach reach the beach, Leo and Everett are long gone—likely off to meet some girls from school at Sweet Rue’s, like they mentioned earlier.
The water finally becomes shallow enough for me to plant my feet in the sand, and I dunk my head one more time to smooth back my hair.
As I come back up, I find my brother and my best friend standing on the shore, far closer than I’d like.
He’s holding her arm just above the elbow, rubbing his thumb across her skin.
She’s smiling up at him like he hung the goddamn moon, laughing as he whispers something in her ear.
Elena’s mouth moves, and whatever my brother responds with makes her bite her lip and blush in the way I’ve been so desperate to make her do, but have never accomplished.
Zach raises his arm, gripping her chin and extending his thumb to pull her bottom lip from her teeth.
Elena nods, looking at him in a way she has never looked at me.
And my chest caves in, heart begging me to wash away with the tide as I watch my brother kiss the girl of my dreams.
ELENA
“Should we wait for August?” I ask, paddling after Zach as he swims to shore.
He turns around, wading backward. “He’s fine. He’s right behind us.” Flashing me the familiar grin that makes my stomach flip, he adds, “I wanted a minute alone with you anyway.”
That flip becomes a lurch, hurling out of my throat as I choke on air. I stumble over my own breath in the most embarrassing way possible. Zach doesn’t seem surprised, probably because I always act like a fucking idiot around him.
Alone with me?
The question ping-pongs inside my skull as we make our way to the shore.
Climbing out of the water puts my whole body on alert, suddenly extremely aware of what I’m wearing and how I look.
Salt water doesn’t do much for my curly hair, which I’m sure is resembling some kind of rat’s nest. I brush it behind my shoulder before smoothing a hand over the top of my head.
Zach smirks as he watches me, reaching out to tug at the strap of my swimsuit.
“I like this on you.”
“Thanks,” I murmur. I can never muster the words to respond when he compliments me. It feels like a privilege to have his attention on my body, and a measly thanks doesn’t seem enough to express the feeling that manifests inside my bones at his praise.
But telling him that would be crazy.
“How did you like jumping off the pier the second time?”
I shrug. “Felt the same as the first, I guess? Fun. The boys are annoying.”
His brows furrow. “Me?”
“Never.” I shake my head, hiding a laugh.
That’s true. Zach, despite being only a year older, is far more mature than Leo and Everett.
I don’t know if it’s because the two of them are my brothers—Leo not technically, but since he moved in with us and my parents have become his legal guardians, it seems like the more fitting title—and therefore destined to bother me, or if it’s because there is something special about Zach himself.
Zach and I don’t have much in common, not the way August and I do.
He doesn’t read for fun, and I don’t play sports.
He’s popular, and I hate the general population most days.
But every time I speak to him about books, he understands exactly what I’m saying.
Every time I have an irrationally bad day, he reminds me that there are far worse things to be upset about in life than mean girls at school or accidentally finding my twin brother’s nude photos on our shared computer.
He doesn’t treat me like a child, and he doesn’t allow me to act like one either.
He makes me feel older, and that makes me think harder.
Plus, he’s… My eyes trail down the length of his bare torso. He’s broad, toned, covered in muscle. He looks like an athlete, and I never thought I’d care much about that, but…well, his body definitely makes my heartbeat low in my stomach, so it’s doing something for me.
“Elena,” he rasps, snapping me out of my stare-down with his pecs. “I asked you a question.”
“What?” I realize he’s still holding the strap of my bathing suit.
“I asked you to describe what it felt like to jump off that pier using one of your big-girl-book words.” His hand runs down the length of my arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake.
I roll my eyes. Zach doesn’t read, but he at least has the basic understanding that reading expands one’s vocabulary.
Every time he comes over, or we meet up on the beach, he asks me to tell him a word I read that day.
I’m always searching for the craziest, most astounding words to impress him with, mostly because I like the way it feels when I make him laugh.
It doesn’t take long to find a word fitting of the way this moment feels.
“Exhilarating,” I breathe.
“Hmm.” He smiles, stepping into me. Suddenly, the beach and the pier and everything around me disappears. All I see is him. Smooth skin, dark eyes, full lips. “I’ll bet I can give you a much better use of that one.”
“How?” My voice is hardly a whisper, no doubt drowned out by the sound of crashing waves, but somehow, he hears me anyway.
“Have you ever been kissed, Elena?”
I shake my head.
“Do you want to be?”
I nod, glad he’s not asking me for a word right now, because they don’t exist to me.
I’ve been watching Zach Hayes for over a year now.
I’ve been trying my damnedest to garner his attention and make him laugh.
I’ve seen his hands and felt his skin in my daydreams—the ones I have when I close my eyes at night, too.
I always wonder if he watches back, if he could be thinking the same thing.
It feels impossible because he’s older, smarter, more popular than me.
And yet…he’s asking to kiss me.
Wings flap inside my chest as his hand hooks around the nape of my neck, twisting in my hair.
He tilts my head upward, and suddenly, his drops down.
I let my eyes fall closed, and I don’t just feel my heartbeat in my stomach—I feel it in every cell of my body.
My head is swimming; my feet don’t feel like they’re on the ground, but in the clouds.
Electrifying. Burning. Thrilling. Exhilarating .
Words float through my mind as Zach presses his lips to mine, and I wonder if these are the words to describe what falling in love feels like.