Bayside Bonds
This beach party wasn’t in the same place as last time. We were further down, away from the pier, but closer to Richards Marine Tours and Repair, the Richards’ family boat business that Caleb had a part time job at this summer.
But Caleb wouldn’t be at this party; he was with the rest of my friends about to have an amazing afternoon together.
As if on cue, Micah Caldwell popped out from one of the bushes that lined the entrance to the beach.
“Watcha doin’, Poet?” he asked, crossing his arms over his toned chest. He had his chin length shaggy dark hair pulled back with a hair tie, leaving his scruffy face on full display. On any other guy, it would look unkempt. But on Micah, it was sort of hot.
I would have narrowed my eyes and told him to move, but he wasn’t trying to give me a hard time. His best friend, Preston Richards, won the title of biggest goofball last year, and Micah no doubt would win it this year.
The only thing that could potentially derail Micah was the fact that he was fast tracked for valedictorian too. It almost didn’t make sense—how someone could be so completely crazy while also one of the smartest in the entire school. If it wasn’t for Zoey Richards, Preston’s sister, Micah would have it in the bag. The competition between them was intense, and I was glad I wasn’t anywhere near that grade wise.
“Heard there was a party. What are you, the bouncer?” I teased, giving his shoulder a slight shove. I ignored him calling me Poet. Micah gave everyone a nickname, and if you didn’t have one, he called you by your last name until he thought of one.
Unless he really didn’t like you. Then he called you by your government name.
Two years ago, we had a project together in English, where he found out there had been a poet named Christopher Marlowe. From then on, I became Poet.
And though he was a Baysider, he never took to one group of friends besides Preston. We called Micah a jumper, because he flowed between groups of people. He was pretty close to Caleb, which is probably how he got the job. Micah worked at the Richards’ boat business, too.
“How’s our boy?” he asked, turning to join me on the walk to the party.
I stared at him, not sure who he meant. Did he mean Declan? Or was he talking about Reid? There was no way he didn’t know that we had broken up last year, but maybe he heard Reid was back? It wouldn’t have surprised me—Micah seemed on top of all the gossip.
“I meant Rebel, but the fact that you’re contemplating that makes me wonder if there’s another guy…” Micah said, bumping his shoulder into mine. Rebel was the name he gave Reid a few years ago. He had been hanging out with Caleb when Reid came in with Liam. When Micah found out Reid was a Baysider but friends with the Gennie’s, he started calling him Rebel.
I rolled my eyes and shoved him away. “Get lost, Caldwell. I have someone to meet up with.”
“I can see that. Declan Storms, huh?” he answered, his focus straight ahead, where Declan jogged his way up the beach, once again shirtless, with a big grin on his face. “Be careful with that one,” Micah added before ducking to the side and heading the opposite direction.
What did that mean? Granted, I had already found out part of it. But Micah’s warning seemed more sinister than that.
Declan finally reached me, not even out of breath as he slowed to a stop. “Hey Crash, good to see you.”
I gave him a half-hearted smile, but didn’t answer. Really, the only reason I came was because all my friends left me behind. And maybe part of me wanted to use Declan to get back at Reid… just a little.
“Come with me. I have something to show you,” Declan said, extending his hand for mine again.
Without thinking, and mesmerized by the dimples in his cheeks, I slipped my hand into his and followed him down the sand. I paused for a second, taking off my black flats, and dropping them into my backpack.
I should have been smarter than this. I should have demanded an apology, an explanation as to why he told his friends. The real reason. If I had been more confident, I would have done all those things. But I wasn’t.
“Where are we going?” I whispered, as if it were all a big secret.
He leaned in, the scent of sunshine and the ocean wafting off of his chest. “Just around the beach grass over there,” he said.
Right as we arrived, the few people that had been standing around left. I ignored that, and put my bag down on the sand next to a towel he already had laid out.
“Let me go grab us some drinks,” he said after I settled down. He turned and jogged back toward the beach grass.
A seagull landed close by a moment later, scaring me half to death. I waved my arms toward it, trying to shoo it away.
It flew back a few feet, but didn’t leave entirely.
Taking in a deep breath, I attempted to calm my mind, attempting to push the thought of Reid and my friends out. I didn’t know the circumstances, and it wasn’t like they had purposefully left me out. They thought I was still working.
Besides, when Liam and Livvy came back, we would all hang out again. I had been living with Reid for a while now. I could handle being in a group with him.
It still pained my heart, though. I closed my eyes, breathing in the salt water air, and trying not to think of Reid stretching his arms over his head. Of him kissing me on this same beach last summer.
Of running, laughing, and laying in the sand, soaking up the sun.
Of the way his face looked absolutely heartbroken when he said we should break up.
A squawk forced my eyes back open. The bird from a moment ago had ventured closer, but now approximately ten of his best friends joined him. A quick glance up showed me even more of them on their way.
And they were all tiptoeing toward me, their beady little eyes staring me down.
My stomach churned. I hated seagulls. Their snappy little beaks freaked me out. The way they scampered about in the sand before launching into the air, circling unsuspecting beachgoers until they dive bombed them, grabbing their food. It was all calculated. Planned. They were shiesty characters, not to mention their ability to peck your eyeballs out of your skull if they wanted.
I glanced up the beach, wondering if anyone else was around to save me from the flock of doom, but came up empty. It was just me and the birds.
I shook my arms again, wider this time, in an attempt to get them all to scatter, but it was no good.
That’s when I felt it—a plop of something falling on my head, followed by a dripping sensation toward my temple.
I didn’t want to reach up and feel it. I really didn’t. But instinct took over and suddenly I found my fingertips covered in a white goo.
“No… oh no, no, no,” I whispered to myself. I jumped to my knees and reached back for my backpack, trying to see if I had any napkins or a towel or something I could use to wipe this off before Declan came back. I couldn’t wipe it on his towel—that was so gross and he would definitely know it was me.
All I had in my bag was my work shirt. “Sorry, but desperate times and all that,” I whispered to it, using it to wipe the poop off my face and hair. “Ew, ew, ew, ew.”
Without a mirror, I had no idea if I got it all or if I just smeared it around.
It didn’t matter, though, because a moment later, another plop hit my right shoulder.
My eyes widened. That’s when I turned to look in every direction, finding at least two dozen seagulls circling me. The ones in the front were pecking at the sand by the edge of the towel.
Eating. They were eating.
I wanted to vomit. They waddled closer, enclosing me in their circle of terror.
Closing my eyes and praying I didn’t find what I thought I would, I dug my hand into the sand and examined it.
Someone put bird food in the sand.
With one hand to my mouth, I rolled off the towel and to my knees, ripping it away from the beach to reveal what was underneath. I threw it over my shoulder, scaring a dozen birds away, but it didn’t matter.
Bird seed littered the ground. The second the towel was gone, the seagulls dove in for the feast.
I screamed and leaped to my feet, clutching my bag to my chest as they flew all around me. One pecked at my toe, mistaking it for food.
“Ow!” I screeched, hopping away on one foot. My chest tightened and my vision began to tunnel.
That’s when I heard it—giggles. My head shot up, finding a group of Baysiders by the tall beach grass Declan and I had come around, their phones out, trying to keep their laughs behind their hands, but failing.
“Oh my God, that was priceless,” one said, staring at her screen.
“Did you get the scream? Tell me you got the scream!”
“Who cares about the scream? I got the second wad of poop landing on her shoulder!”
My head spun, my vision blurry now as I took in the scene around me.
Declan said he had something for me.
He apologized for telling his friends about the clue.
He came to take me for a birthday dinner.
He called me his girl.
And it was all, what, a prank? An elaborate, long drawn out prank?
My gaze shot toward the grassy area, the only way out of this part of the beach and to my bike.
I dug my toes into the sand, jumped over the pile of bird seed and seagulls, and pumped my legs hard to get through the group.
But a wall of tall, toned guys blocked my path.
“Move,” I seethed, but they didn’t listen. At least two had their phones out, still capturing my humiliation on camera.
Tears threatened to roll down my cheeks, but I wiped them away before they could. They didn’t deserve that satisfaction.
“You got a little something on your forehead, Crash.”
Declan.
I whipped my head around so fast, my hair hit me in the face. “You.”
The grin on his face no longer charmed me. It no longer made my heart pound or made me reconsider my decisions.
Right now, all I wanted to do was punch it off his smug little face.
So I did. Or, at least, I tried. At the last second, Declan darted to the side, avoiding my fist, leaving me careening forward.
A steady pair of arms caught me before I went toppling to the ground.
“Easy now,” a male voice whispered into my ear. Adrenaline coursed through my body. I didn’t want anyone touching me, talking to me, looking at me. I wanted to run far, far away and never see these people again.
And I still wanted to punch the stupid dimples off of Declan’s face.
“Let’s go. Don’t say anything, just go,” the female voice said. I didn’t have to look to see who said it, but the shock that came from it stung all the same.
The more masculine set of hands lifted me to my feet, handing me off to the girl. “You’re a jerk, Declan. Honestly, who does something like that?” he said, louder and away from my ear now.
“Aw, come on, Sean, it was a harmless prank on a Gennie. A hysterical one, but harmless! We’ve been planning it for weeks!” Declan responded in between taking deep breaths from laughing so hard. “Come back, Crash. I’m sorry! I swear, it was supposed to be funny! I thought you’d laugh!” But the way he wheezed from laughing himself told me he wasn’t serious.
None of this was serious.
I didn’t believe a word he said. I shouldn’t have believed it in the first place. Someone like Declan Storms had no interest in someone like me.
As soon as we cleared the grass and made it back to my bike, I looked up.
Grace and her boyfriend, Sean, flanked my sides, their hands still on my arms.
Grace spoke first, her dark brown eyes flecked with green and gold trained on mine. “Hi.”