Authors: Anna Cruise
He stood up and approached my desk.
“Megan, right?” He smiled, a lopsided sort of grin.
“
Yep.” I grabbed my book and slapped it on my desk. “Case?”
He nodded. “Your friend Logan invited me to the beach tonight. You going?”
It was my turn to nod.
“
Cool. It sounds fun.”
I wouldn't classify our Friday night bonfires as fun but I didn't say this. They were cheap diversions and at least we could say we did something over the weekend.
“So, I'll see you tonight, right?”
I didn't have a chance to answer. Mrs. Lopez arrived then, lugging a massive book bag stuffed with papers, and Case returned to his desk. I managed to sneak a peek back at him once during class but his eyes were cast downward, focused on the paper in front of him. I was one hundred percent convinced Logan was wrong about him. And that made me smile. Not because I wanted him. But for Jada.
THREE
Our fire was dying. The embers glowed red-orange like a glisten
ing bed of rubies. The wind blew in from the water, a cool mist that made me pull my hoodie just a little bit tighter around me. The salty air clung to my nostrils and dripped down my throat. I grimaced and held the bottle of water up to my lips, tipping it back, hoping for a few last drops. It was bone dry.
“
Anyone up for Two Truths?” Logan asked. He sat between me and Jada on a Mexican blanket, a striped disaster of jarring blues and purples.
“
Bor-ring.” Jada yawned for emphasis.
“
Truth or Dare?”
She gave an exaggerated sigh.
I agreed, but not out loud. It wasn't as if I was coming up with any stellar new ideas. I was relieved the conversation had turned to games; I'd just suffered through an hour of having my life picked apart. Suggestions offered and advice dispensed—all unsolicited.
“
How about I Never?” Case spoke this time. He sat across from the three of us, on a different horrible blanket, with Carter next to him.
Logan looked at him. “What's that one?”
“Well, one person starts by saying something they've never done. If someone else has done it, then they have to...” He stopped, as if remembering something.
“
They have to what?” Logan's curiosity was piqued. He loved a good game, especially if it was something new. I was intrigued, too because I knew, as a last resort, that Logan would resort to telling jokes. And he was the worst joke-teller ever.
“
Uh, it probably won't work,” he said.
“
Why not?” Logan demanded.
“
It's sort of a drinking game.”
“
Oh.” Logan's voice was flat, disapproving.
It wasn't as if we were all straight-laced, goody-two shoes or anything. Well, not really. Logan's dad was a minister so he was pretty straight and arrow and Carter was his best friend so he sort of followed suit in that department. Jada and I...well, the situation had never come up. At least not for me.
But I wanted to know. “Tell us, anyway.”
He used his finger as a pencil and drew in the sand. I craned my neck to see, thinking this was some aspect of the game he was about to describe, but he carved out a series of symbols, swirls and circles all intertwined, seemingly lost in thought.
“You say something you've never done. If someone else in the group has done it, they take a drink. That's all.”
“
Oh.” It was my turn to offer a one-word response.
An uncomfortable silence fell. Logan stared into the fire, probably wondering why he'd invited the guy who liked drinking games. Carter shifted his legs on the blanket, moving even further away from Case. I imagined what he was thinking:
Get me away from the gay freak
. Logan had no doubt mentioned his thoughts about the new guy to his best friend. I shook my head in disgust and turned to look at my own best friend. She gazed across the dying fire, directly at Case. Probably imagining kissing him. I sighed. What was I thinking about? That the night was coming to an end and I would have to go home.
Carter cleared his throat. “I think I'm done. I'm beat.”
“Yeah, me, too.” Logan glanced at his phone. He pushed a button and it glowed, a shimmer of neon green in the darkness. “It's almost ten.”
I looked around at both of them, incredulous. “Are you serious? We never go home this early.”
Logan stood up. “Carter and I have a youth group thing tomorrow...some service project in Chula Vista. We have to be at the church by eight.” He picked up his discarded flip flops and held them in one hand. “You guys ready to hit it?”
Jada looked at me and I shook my head no. I wasn't ready. She widened her eyes, a mute form of communication we'd perfected over the years. I shook my head again and frowned, widening my own eyes in response.
She sighed. “We're gonna stay, I guess.”
Logan scowled. “How are you going to get home?” He was the only one with a license.
“I can drive them home,” Case offered. I guess he had his, too.
Jada beamed. “Awesome!”
Logan was miffed. “Fine.” He motioned to Carter. “You ready, dude?”
Case stood up so Carter could grab the blanket. He grabbed it, haphazardly shook off the sand and scrunched it into a ball. He readjusted his Padres cap, squashing his dark curls underneath it, eyeing us.
“So, uh, have fun,” Carter offered. Logan just scowled and turned toward the stairs that led back to to the street. Carter trotted after him.
“
Come sit by us,” Jada invited, patting the empty spot on the blanket.
Case's feet kicked up a tiny spray of sand as he moved to sit next to Jada. She shifted closer to me to make room. They talked about school and where Case had moved from. I caught bits and pieces of their conversation but I couldn't focus on their light and easy banter. All I could think about was me. My mother. My dad. My mess of a life.
My thoughts drifted to what I knew waited for me at home. I tried to think of something else but I couldn't. The memories sucked me back in. I couldn't go back there, to that suffocating place that reeked of misery, that threatened to swallow me whole. I couldn't face that closed bedroom door, knowing what hid behind it. A broken, drowning woman.
“
Megan.”
I looked up. Jada and Case both stared at me. “What?”
“We're ready.” Jada said. “To go.”
How long had it been since Carter and Logan had left? It felt like it had only been a few minutes. “What?”
“We're ready,” she repeated. She flipped her hair off her shoulders and reached for her discarded sandals. “Case is going to drive us home, remember?”
I wasn't ready to go home. I couldn't. Not then, at least. “Um, I think I'm going to stay.”
“By yourself? Meg.” Jada's voice was filled with disapproval.
“
I don't want to go home.” I spoke softly, my voice lowered, trying to keep the conversation between me and her.
“
So don't. Spend the night at my house. My parents won't care.”
But they would. A planned sleepover was one thing but me showing up unannounced late at night? That was not something that would be well-received, at least not by her parents.
“No.”
Case spoke up. “She's right, you know.”
“What?”
He nodded toward Jada. “You don't wanna be down here alone.”
“How would you know?” It wasn't like he'd lived here all his life like I had.
“
I'm just saying.” He ran his fingers over his hair. “It's late. It's dark. You'll be alone. Not a good combo.”
Jada stood up, her arms crossed, and nodded her head in agreement.
“I'll be fine,” I snapped.
He stared at me and said nothing.
“I'm staying.”
Case exhaled slowly, like he was trying to keep from saying something. Something he knew I wouldn't like. “OK.” He turned to Jada. “She wants to stay.”
She tried to get my attention but I refused to look at her. I didn't want her convincing me I was being reckless or persuading me to go somewhere I didn't want to be.
Jada's sigh was loud, exaggerated. “Fine. Call me in the morning so I know you made it home alive.”
“I will.”
“
Be careful,” Case said. It sounded like an order.
She glared at me one final time and they left. I watched as the embers in the fire pit turned to ash, grayish-white in the moonlight. The surf crashed in front of me, a deafening, rhythmic roar that complemented my quiet solitude. I sat for a long time, torn between staying on the beach and going home. I didn't want to do either. I should have gone with Jada because, more than anything, I realized I didn't want to be alone. I didn't want to give my thoughts and memories a chance to breathe and grow. I couldn't let the sadness and hopelessness consume me like it did my mother.
I stood, brushing off the sand clinging to my legs as I tried to dislodge the thoughts haunting my mind. I picked up the blanket and, after giving it a firm shake, folded it into a crooked square. I tucked it under my arm, grabbed my sandals and shuffled toward the steps that led up to the boardwalk, burying my feet in the cool sand as I walked.
The boardwalk was mostly empty. Off to the left, a group of guys huddled on a bench under the dim, salt-encrusted street lamp. Two of them held cigarettes and the tips danced in the dark like red fireflies. A couple walked by, an older man with graying hair holding hands with a much younger woman. I thought of my dad and my stomach knotted up. I looked away.
I wiped my feet on a small patch of grass and bent down to put my sandals on.
“
Megan? Megan Calloway?” A boy's voice. An unfamiliar voice.
I looked up, startled, into the face of Aidan Westwood, a senior from my school. I didn't know him but I knew of him. It was hard not to. A part of the surfer crowd, guys who spent more time on the beach than they ever did at school. They were like brothers—most of them blond-haired and tanned, all of them lean and muscled from hours in the water.
I couldn't find my voice.
His expression was puzzled, friendly. “What are you doing here?”
I swallowed. “Having a bonfire.”
He looked around at the empty boardwalk. “By yourself? Or with them?” He nodded his head toward the guys on the bench.
“No, with some friends.” I was flustered. “They left a while ago. I...I wasn't ready to go home.”
He lit a cigarette. “And you're ready now?”
I stared at him. I couldn't help it. None of my friends smoked. “I guess.”
He took a long drag and exhaled, blowing the smoke away from me. “OK.” He paused. “Well...see you at school.”
He turned to go.
“
Wait,” I said. “Where are you going?”
Aidan motioned to the beach. “Back down. Just needed to grab some smokes.”
I scanned the mostly empty beach and noticed two bonfires still blazing orange. “Who are you here with?”
He shrugged. “A few people from school.” He took another drag as he studied me. “You wanna come?”
I hesitated. Aidan Westwood was not a friend. We didn't know each other. In a high school with almost two thousand kids, our paths had crossed only once, a P.E. class my freshman year.
He dropped his cigarette and ground it into the sidewalk. “Well?”
I made my decision. “Sure.”
FOUR
I followed him back down the steps to the beach, past where I'd been sitting with Jada and Case. There was another bonfire further up, closer to the pier. I squinted my eyes as we approached and tried to identify the people huddled around it. Most of the faces I saw were familiar in a vague sort of way; in a pinch, I could assign the right names to those faces, I thought. We moved closer and I noticed the empty beer cans that littered the blankets. A curtain of smoke hung suspended above the fire.
Aidan sat down and patted the spot next to him. “Sit,” he said. He shoved the guy next to him. “Make room for Megan, asshole.”
The guy laughed and shifted off the blanket. He was older, with long dark hair pulled back in a ponytail.
Aidan dug around inside a battered blue cooler and handed me a can. “Here.”
A Budweiser. I held it with my thumb and forefinger and examined it.
He smirked. He'd already cracked his open. “What? You don't drink?”
No, I didn't drink. I didn't smoke either, and I didn't make a habit of hanging out at bonfires with a group of strangers. But tonight was different. Any place was better than home. Even this. I pulled back the tab and brought the can to my lips. It was lukewarm and bitter but I took a long drink anyway, forcing myself to swallow it down.
He laughed. “Good girl.”
I made myself finish it, gulping huge mouthfuls of the foul-tasting liquid. There were conversations all around me and I hoped no one noticed the way I winced each time I swallowed. I placed the empty can next to me and breathed a sigh of relief.