Chapter 6
Six
Teddy
I rip my lips from Liam’s. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. I’m such an idiot, but I couldn’t help it. He was acting so worried about me. His eyes wouldn’t stop examining every inch of my face. He always makes me feel like I’m the only one in the room, like I’m the only one worthy of his attention.
I saw the exact moment he registered the hickey on my neck. A flicker of something flashed in his eyes, but as quickly as it appeared, it was gone.
“What the fuck?” he mutters, his hand darting up to wipe his mouth.
Mortified. That’s the only feeling coursing through my veins at this point. With my eyes stinging and my mouth agape, I flounder for a few seconds, desperately searching for words. Anything. Just say something .
“I-I’m sorry,” I whisper. “It’s the molly. You know how it makes things feel good. I didn’t mean to do that, you know. It was the euphoria. Just horniness from the drug, I swear—”
“Stop. Just stop,” he says calmly. “It’s okay, I’m sure it was just the drugs. I believe you because I know you wouldn’t fuck with me like that. You know I’m not gay.”
His last words were said with a grimace that made it obvious just how disgusted he is.
Disgusted by me, by what I am. My heart is palpitating in my chest, and it won’t stop.
My face is on fire. I’ve never felt embarrassment and remorse at this magnitude.
My eyes refuse to meet his. I can’t bear to see the expression that I know is written all over his face. It will shatter me, once and for all.
I shoot up from my sitting position and grab my board. “I’m sorry, I need to go,” I mumble.
I drop the board onto the rough parking lot concrete and hop on before he has a chance to try to stop me. Who am I kidding? He probably doesn’t give a fuck at this point. I don’t hear a peep from him as I navigate out of there, and I refuse to look back over my shoulder.
The streetlights cast an orange haze over the pavement as my wheels glide across it. The wind is really whipping tonight, and the sound of palm trees rustling fills my ears alongside the car engines zooming past me.
There’s only one place I can go, since I’m not willing to bother any of my friends this late at night.
It’s a long ride, but I finally make it to my special spot.
It’s hidden well—that’s what makes it so special.
I haven’t even brought Liam here. You wouldn’t be able to find it unless you explore.
I turn onto the street, watching fancy-ass houses on either side of me as I fly past them.
This street has a dead end, but it’s a disguise.
At the end, there’s an entrance to a Marina on the right, and to the left of it, there’s nothing but densely packed trees and shrubs.
I pick up my board and head to the left.
There’s no trail imprinted in the ground because no one comes back here, only me occasionally.
After a short distance, the dirt gives way to sand and the trees become mangroves.
The salty smell of the ocean fills my nostrils.
A small strip of beach lies below me, maybe only twelve feet of it. I approach the cliff—it’s not very high up so it’s easy to venture below—but I don’t—not tonight. I don’t want to risk the tide coming in while I’m down there.
The best part about this place, aside from the fact that it’s all mine, is the palm tree.
There’s a single palm tree that butts up against another.
But it’s not just any tree, this one grew horizontally so it could reach the sunlight.
It reaches all the way past the cliff and it’s uniquely flat at the bottom of the trunk, forming a perfect place to lay down.
The rush of endorphins that have been racing through me seem to come to a halt, making my limbs sluggish and heavy as I lift myself onto the tree. I recline back and lay my head on the hard trunk, resting my feet against the opposing tree.
My chest is still rising and falling and there’s a sort of buzzing in my brain that seems exponentially louder now that I’m surrounded by silence.
I lift my shaky hand to wipe the thin layer of sweat from my brow and look up at the dark sky.
I really fucked up this time. I don’t know what came over me; I’ve never made a move on Liam like that.
Because, like he said, he’s not gay, and it’s not okay to do that to someone.
God, I’m such a bad friend—maybe a bad person, even.
Because I fantasize about doing so much more all the time.
I wish I could corrupt him with my body, just to show him what he’s missing. Me.
Just fucking stop, Teddy.
It’ll never happen. I need to stop living in this cruel space in my head where my mind tricks me into thinking we could be more than friends.
For not the first time, a fleeting thought crosses my mind insisting me to never see Liam again.
It would benefit both of us—he wouldn’t have to deal with me anymore.
No more worrying, no more unwanted advances, and maybe I could finally move on.
It’s not possible though. Liam’s too stubborn to admit his life would be easier without me in it, and I’m too soft to follow through. So, we’re at a fucking standstill.
I’m just going to need to put some healthy boundaries between us. No more platonic affection—which is all his doing. I won’t let him hold me or hug me when I’m upset ever again. That’s the main thing because it messes with my head.
And I need to get laid. Even as I convince myself of these things, the thought that won’t leave me alone is the way his lips felt against my own. Thick and soft, much bigger than even my pouty ones. He could consume my mouth with his own, batter and bruise it. Stop it!
I pull my phone from the back pocket of my jeans.
My eyes burn when I see my wallpaper—Liam and I, at a party.
His arm is thrown over my shoulder, all his blindingly white teeth on display, while I’m smiling up at him like a golden retriever.
Fuck. Okay, guess I should change that. Who else do I think is hot as fuck? Think. Think. Think.
Ah. Ian Somerhalder. After a quick search, I find the perfect picture and set it as my background.
Good… this is good. I work hard to convince myself of it even though my chest feels a little more hollow than it did before. I lay my phone on my chest before the idea of letting Liam know I’m safe takes ahold of me, and close my eyes, not allowing myself to open them. I need to sleep.
A vibration on my chest startles me, and before I know it, I’m plummeting to the ground. I land on my back with a hard thud. “Fuck!” I wheeze. The short fall knocked the air out of me.
My phone is still buzzing in the sand next to me. I peek at it through squinted eyes, since the sun is shooting daggers through them. It’s Liam, so I toss it back down and rub at my aching eyes.
The unmistakable buzzing sound starts again. Ugh. I begrudgingly answer it.
“About time you answered the damn phone. What do you have it for if you don’t answer it?” he asks, voice loud over the power tools in the background.
I groan loudly. “I just woke up, chill.”
“Chill? Right. Well, if you want me to chill, maybe try not riding off into the night while you’re high as fuck and clearly upset.
Maybe try to shoot me a text letting me know you’re alive, so I know you didn’t get robbed or jumped or some shit.
That’d help me be more fucking chill, ” he growls into the phone, voice low, so no one hears him acting like a psycho.
“Well, I’m fine. Other than the fact that your incessant calling made me fall five feet to the ground, but that’s beside the point—”
“What? What are you even talking about?”
“Nothing. Go back to work. I’m fine. I’ll be at the hotel when you get home. Bye.” I quickly hanging up the phone. I lay it down on my chest and a hiss of breath leaves my mouth.
I nearly forgot about the cigarette burn.
Sitting up, I lift my shirt and see the angry red skin smack dab in the center of my chest. I lift my finger and graze it across the small circle; it doesn’t really hurt, just a dull sting.
I can’t even begin to understand why he did that.
Some weird sense of propriety over me? Why else would he want to mark me right after noticing my hickey.
I scoff. That’s the type of thing about Liam that confuses me—his over-the-top possessiveness. It feels like more. More than just friends. But that’s just the desperate voice in my head telling me lies. Making me feel like I have a chance.
Ugh. I stand up, brushing the sand from my palms and begin taking my clothes off.
I might as well take a dip in the water while I’m here.
I can feel grains of sand all over my sweaty skin, so this is a good chance to clean up a bit.
Clad in my pink, cherry-covered briefs, I make my way down the somewhat steep cliff as gracefully as I can, excitement growing in my chest the closer I get.
I race across the narrow strip of beach straight into the water. As soon as it gets deep enough, I take a deep breath and dive under, propelling myself forward. When I can’t hold my breath any longer, I surface and instinctively reach both hands up to swipe my curly hair from my face.
The ocean floor is well below my feet, so I wade in the water for a bit, tuning in to the Marina workers on the other side of the trees.
As I float on my back in the water, two things ring loud and clear in my mind. I never want to leave this beach, and I wish Liam was here with me. Then, it’d be perfect. I’d never have to leave.
I let my mind run wild for a while, imagining a life with him, until it’s too painful to bear.
While trudging back to shore, I remember that I actually have to work today, and I can’t spend all of my time at my special spot.
Stupid responsibilities. Groaning loudly, I pull my jeans over my wet skin—which was a bad fucking idea, but I don’t have time to air dry since I work eleven to seven at a shitty gas station.
On my way back into the trees, I look over my shoulder and blow a kiss. “I’ll be back for you,” I say out loud.