Chapter 19 – Kat
NINETEEN
KAT
My stomach churns with anxiety as we drive through the night, leaving Kent behind and heading toward our destination. Every mile that rolls by only adds to my nervousness, and I can’t shake off the feeling no matter how hard I try. The reason for my unease remains elusive, but its grip on me is undeniable.
Excitement pulses through our group as we pull up to Elijah’s parents’ beach house in our rented SUV, ready for a week of endless fun during spring break. The impressive beach house stands tall between two neighboring properties, its white stucco walls reflecting the bright sunlight. A large balcony stretches across the front of the house, offering a breathtaking view of the vast expanse of the Atlantic before us. As I step out of the car, the warm rays of the sun envelop me and I take in a deep breath of salty sea air, instantly feeling rejuvenated and eager to explore all that Myrtle Beach has to offer .
Everyone darts toward the house, scrambling to claim bedrooms. Elijah and I hang back, as he already informed me that the master bedroom is off-limits to everyone but us, so we don’t need to fight the masses for our room. My chest fills with warmth at his words.
Ours .
As we cross the threshold, the salty scent of the ocean is just as strong, maybe even stronger. Our feet sink into plush, sandy-colored carpet. A vase filled with seashells sits on a wicker side table next to a comfortable armchair covered with anchor-patterned pillows. Framed photographs of lighthouses and sailboats line the walls, mixed in with photos of Elijah over the years. A framed photo of him in a tailored suit next to his father at what appears to be an important event catches my eye. Elijah looks young, maybe twelve, and his father is the picture of timeless luxury.
“That’s from the night my dad won the election for his first term,” Elijah says as he nudges my shoulder, pride in his voice but a hard-to-place expression creasing his brow.
“You guys look really happy,” I say. I can’t help but think about how little I know about my dad. Do photos of my half-brother hang in his home? Does he tell people he’s his only child? Is he the legacy my dad longs to have continue on? It stings to think about, so I do everything in my power to shake off the thought.
“Yeah.” Elijah shrugs.
Suddenly Jenna and Tanner barrel in.
“We’re going to the liquor store. You guys want to come?” Tanner says.
I glance toward Elijah, but he shakes his head. “I have to pull the cover off the pool and hide the breakables from Aaron.”
I barely know Aaron, but from the stories I’ve been told, he has a tendency to break things when he’s drunk because he has the delicacy of a baby deer learning to walk. Apparently, he’s the very reason the window in the front room of the Lambda house had to be replaced last semester.
“What about you?” Tanner asks me.
I turn again to Elijah and he just shrugs.
“Sure,” I say, “why not?”
After pressing a kiss to Elijah’s cheek, I follow Tanner and Jenna out the door. The three of us pile into the black SUV, which is thankfully still cool from the air conditioning. Jenna jumps into the passenger seat and reaches for the aux cord. Since Tanner’s information is on the car rental, he drives, which defaults me to the back seat.
The moment Tanner notices Jenna has the aux cord, he snatches it out of her grasp. “Driver’s choice, Jen.” He grins, ignoring her as she flips him off. “What do you want to listen to, Kat?”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Jenna squeals in irritation, then laughs. “She’s just going to want to listen to 1989 .”
“That’s actually not true, so—” I stick my tongue out at her.
“Fine, what do you want to listen to, then?” she asks, raising her brow.
“ Reputation , please!”
Jenna groans before slumping back into her seat, but Tanner doesn’t question it and queues up Taylor Swift’s Reputation album on Spotify. “Ready For It” begins to play, instilling me with an extra dose of excitement for the week ahead of us. Tanner sets down his phone on the center console before pressing the button to roll down the windows.
A burst of warm air whips through my hair and caresses my face. The scent of fresh grass and blooming flowers fills the car, instantly calming me. I take a deep breath and feel the tension in my body melt away. It’s like all the anxiety and stress from the past few days were just a result of being cooped up in cold, dreary Ohio weather. But now, with the sun shining down on us, I can feel myself relax.
As we turn into the parking lot of the liquor store, my eyes widen at the sight of bumper-to-bumper cars and people swarming around. It’s no surprise—Myrtle Beach is always a hot spot this time of year. I can see groups of people loading up their carts with bottles and cans of various alcoholic beverages.
Tanner finally finds an open parking spot and quickly pulls in, carefully navigating through the chaos. We grab a cart and set out on our mission to find libations for the night.
After briefly scanning the aisles, we beeline for the vodka. Tanner grabs two bottles of Tito’s vodka before we venture forward. Jenna puts two large boxes of cheap wine into the cart, one white and one red—the one thing we’ve never agreed on.
When we reach the coolers on the far wall, Tanner grabs two twenty-four-packs of Coors Light.
“Is all of this necessary?” I ask.
“You’ve never seen the amount of alcohol these guys put back on a regular basis, have you?”
Jenna approaches, struggling to balance three overstuffed bags of salt and vinegar chips in one arm while cradling a massive tub of French onion dip in the other. She stops next to our shopping cart and drops everything in, causing a loud clatter and earning puzzled looks from both Tanner and me.
“What? I’ve been on a kick,” Jenna says. She shrugs before walking ahead.
We quickly check out at the counter. Tanner tosses two packs of Reese’s cups onto the counter along with the various alcoholic beverages we’ve collected. Outside, we’re loading up the trunk when Tanner reaches into the unbranded white plastic bag and grabs the two packages of Reese’s cups.
“Here.” He grins as he hands me one of the two.
“What is this?” I stare at the orange package but make no effort to grab it from him.
“Chocolate…?”
“Yeah, but why?—”
“Don’t you like Reese’s cups?” His brows pinch together as he stares down at me.
“They’re my favorite…” I continue staring at them, and he seems to register that I’m not going to grab them as he presses the package into my palm.
I don’t remember ever telling him what my favorite candy was. What a convenient guess on his part.
“Thank you,” I say timidly.
Jenna looks at the package in my hand and frowns. “What the hell, Adler?! You didn’t get me one.”
“Eat your fucking chips, Jenna.” He rolls his eyes with a chuckle before climbing into the vehicle.
Jenna hops in the back seat without saying anything and I climb into the front seat. On the drive back, our words are swallowed by the rushing wind and Taylor Swift’s voice blaring from the speakers. My dark brown hair whips around my face as I drape my hand out the window, relishing the cool breeze on my fingertips. The familiar song brings a sense of calm and ease.
So why am I filled with dread the moment we pull back into the driveway?