Whenever I'm alone with you,
you make me feel like I am whole again.
The Cure ~ Lovesong
Edward
The girl leads me across the bar to a dirty patch of linoleum near the jukebox. One eighties song bleeds into another, and she smiles. Placing her arms around my neck, she sways to a too-fast beat to be dancing so slow. Her face rests against my chest and I can smell her hair. Magnolias and cherry blossoms. We dance for a while, neither of us speaking. Her body feels so strange against mine. She's shorter than Rose. Thinner and more lean. Not as soft, but nicer. Somehow nicer.
The song ends, and she glances up at me. "I'm a huge fan of epic things."
"What kind of epic things?"
She jerks her head in the direction of our tables. "What you just did back there. Defending my friend."
Pursing my lips, I pretend to ponder it. "As epic as cutting someone's tires?"
She laughs. "Vandalism is nothing. Standing up for what's right? That's everything."
There's a minute of silence, followed by the pounding rhythm of Poison flowing from the speakers. Her hands slide down my arms until they're grasping mine, and she's walking backwards to a side door I've never noticed before. She kicks open the door, and it takes everything within me to stare straight ahead. I feel the pull of my brother behind me, the constant weight of concern for him pressing down on my shoulders.
Salty, humid air swarms around us, thick as soup. The rusty-hinged door swings shut behind us, swallowing up the scent of cheap beer and cheaper women. She kicks off her shoes and leads us down a beaten path. Light from distant houses glint on the bay.
"Where are we going?"
Her fingers twist in mine as she turns around to look up at me, never fully letting go. "There's a dock back here. I saw it when Alice and I pulled up."
"Alice … that's your friend? And you're?"
"Bella." Her fingers twist away from mine, and she rakes them through her dark hair.
Colorful Christmas lights glow dimly in the distance, the strands forever wrapped around the handrails of an old rickety dock. The wood creaks underneath our feet with each step we take. She reaches the end of the dock first. Leaning over the rail, her hair drapes across her shoulders, outlined by the light of the distant houses, glowing docks, the moon. Then she leans back. She's got all her weight on one leg, the other bent at the knee. She turns her head, and leaves her elbows resting on the railing. Catches me checking her out. A burn crawls up my neck. Looking away, I shove my hands in my pockets.
I feel the wickedness of her smile, and when she speaks that burn transforms my pulse into an erratic throb. "Tell me about this place."
I look at her face, careful not to follow the outline of her body from her toes up. "Santa Nora?"
"Yeah."
"What about it?" I join her at the railing, and peer out across the bay.
Bella shrugs and turns to face the quiet bay. We're twin outlines, both bent forward, hunched on the rail. One taller, leaner. One shorter, all soft curves and potential sins.
"Just … tell me about it. You're from here, right?"
"Yeah, and you're not." Smirking, I avoid the way she looks at me.
"Nope, but I might as well be. Hailing from a tourist town myself."
I can't stop myself this time. I glance at her, curious and anxious for more. She lacks the deep Southern accent I'm accustomed to, but there's a twang there. One thing I know, she's not from here.
"Tourist town, huh? But not a Florida tourist town." Narrowing my eyes in thought, I watch the rise of her eyebrows. "Not Mississippi, Louisiana, or Alabama. Southern, but not deep South."
"How do you know that?"
Shrugging, I turn back to the bay. "You hear all sorts of dialects when you're from a place like this. People from all over come here to escape their lives. Usually in passing on their way somewhere more popular."
"You didn't answer my question," she points out, and I don't miss that she doesn't offer up more information on where she's from.
Sighing, I shrug again. "What's there to say about Santa Nora? Just a sleepy little coastal town."
"Seems nice. Quiet," she murmurs, and in one swift movement she's sitting down, swinging her legs over the edge of the dock. Her bare feet skim the surface, disturbing the water. I join her on the edge, feet drawn underneath me.
The thump of bass pounding uphill behind us makes me laugh. "Quiet unless you're hanging out in old honky tonk bars. Starting fights and cutting tires."
"Hey, I wasn't the one who started the almost-fight." Bella licks her bottom lip, staring straight ahead. "Thank God for that almost fight, though. I needed an outlet."
"An outlet?"
She leans her head against the wood, staring into my eyes. "An outlet. You know, to drown the noise inside your head. Everyone has noise. Everyone has an outlet. And if they don't, they need one."
"And yours is vandalism? Disorderly conduct?"
Smirking, she shakes her head. "Not necessarily. Sometimes it's dancing. Sometimes it's speeding down the highway in my old convertible. Sometimes it's cutting tires." Smirk growing wider, she leans in my direction, her mouth so close to my ear I feel her warm breath dancing along my cheek. "Sometimes it's ..."
"It's what?"
Her wet, warm lips touch my earlobe. Closing my eyes, I dry-swallow the urge to stop her. My girlfriend's name plays on loop in my mind. Rose, Rose, Rose. And I hate myself for loving the way this girl's teeth capture my earlobe, loving the way she sucks and licks and bites. I touch her, telling myself I'll push her away, but instead I drag her closer, pressing my lips against hers.
She's only here for Spring Break. Rose will never know.
Guilt conspires against me, forcing me numb for one monumental second. But that long second eventually passes, and I come alive again, burning against her mouth. Her tongue tastes like sweet and sour candy, like she's been sucking SweetTarts an entire car ride from wherever she lives. I kiss her harder, and she giggles against my mouth. The sound causes me to pause in uncertainty until she pulls me back, begging me for more. Her fingers work their way to the nape of my neck, curling into my hair and tugging my head back. Staring up at me, her lips skim one corner of my mouth, dragging their way to my jaw and then my neck.
"I don't usually—"
"Uh huh," she says knowingly, as though she already knows the lame thing I'm about to say, but it's true. I've never been "this guy," the kind of guy who kisses a girl he's just met, the kind of guy who hooks up with random Spring Breakers. And that's what this girl is: a Spring Breaker. She reeks misfit teenage tourist, something I normally find nauseating.
"I run," I mumble, foolishly nervous as her palm flattens on my upper thigh. So close. So fucking close. "That's my outlet."
She pauses, the grip on my hair loosening. She stares at me, and it's different. She's a different person. There's no devilish smile, no heat to her eyes.
"Why do you run?"
"Like you said, an outlet."
She tilts her head to one side. "But specifically. Why?"
No one's ever asked me why I run. People assume I run because I enjoy running. They think I run to keep in shape. They believe I run because it's something I excel at. But not one person in my life, not my parents, siblings, even Rose has ever asked me why I run.
That heat works its way back up my neck. "To forget about my shitty life."
Bella nods. She doesn't roll her eyes, or stare at me in confusion. She fucking nods and looks back at the water.
"Are there sharks in the bay?"
Raising my eyebrows at the change in topic, I nod. "Yeah, sometimes. The dolphins usually chase them out, but they still sneak in. Rays too."
"That's too bad." She splashes her feet in the water, staring at it with a familiar longing. "I love swimming at night."
"You should stay out of the bay, unless you want a dolphin to drag you down to their rape caves."
Her eyes widen. "Rape caves?"
I give her a skeptical stare. "You've never heard of the dolphin rape caves?" She shakes her head, and I mirror her with a shake of my own. "Damn tourists. People should be warned before going into the bays. Dolphins are notorious for dragging people underwater into their rape caves. If you don't believe me, you can Google it."
"Are you serious?"
"Fuck no." I laugh, and she hits me. Hard. I rub away the burn. "Admit it. You believed me for a second."
"You're an ass." But her smile tells me she likes it.
We're quiet for a while. I'm the one who breaks the silence. "If you really want to swim, you should come back to my place. We have a pool."
Withdrawing her feet from the water, she tucks them underneath her and looks at me. "Okay."
"Huh?"
Smiling, she says, "Okay, I'll come back to your place."
"Really?" I'd said it out of politeness, not really expecting her to take up my offer.
"Yeah, why not?"
"Because I'm a stranger?" I laugh.
Bella's smile softens. "You're no stranger to me."
~oOo~
A couple hours later, Kate stares at our pool from behind the glass patio doors, a stolen beer clutched between multicolored fingertips. "You gotta be kidding me."
"Don't start," I mutter from the nearby bar. Bottles of Peach Schnapps and Vodka clang together as I mix a couple drinks. Girls like fruity drinks, right? Or is that just Rose? Shaking my head, I mix up the ingredients for Sex on the Beach, because fuck.
Kate's dumbfounded expression twists into a knowing smirk. "My big brother's about to experience his first real booty call. Oh, my God. This … this deserves a photo."
Abandoning the bottles, I dig around in the fridge for the juices. "Kate, for the love of God, leave your camera out of it. Please, for one night."
"Nope. No way. This is going in the photo album, kid."
By the time I spin back around she's gone. I catch a glimpse of her bright hair ducking into her bedroom down the hall. Groaning, I mix the ingredients together and wonder if Bella's ever had a Sex on the Beach. That thought leads me to thoughts of sex with Bella, this girl from where? I don't even know. And is this a booty call? Am I really this guy? My heart churns, and a presumptive smile gloats its way onto my face, worming away when Rose's blue eyes glare at me from the back of my mind where I've tried to bury her. Fuck my life.
Before Kate can make a reappearance, I'm elbowing open the sliding doors, carrying two drinks in my hands. One for Bella, and one for her friend, Alice, who's sitting on the edge of the pool in a pink bikini. Jasper's standing at the far end near the diving board, speaking to Bella, whose feet dangle from the end of the board. Whatever he says makes her toss back her head and laugh. Her eyes meet mine, and I calculate the look. The hair on the back of my neck stands, but then I relax. Her laughter is authentic, and her smile is blinding. I join her friend on the edge of the pool, passing her a glass.
She takes the drink, swirling the little straw around the pinkish liquid. "Hey, thanks, kid."
For some reason she calls me kid. Called me kid the moment Bella and I stepped back inside that old bar and I invited her over for a swim. Kate picked up on the nickname, and now it's stuck. And it's kinda funny that she calls me a kid. The girl looks younger than my sister, but swears she's eighteen.
"You're technically my elder," I point out, talking to her but still watching Bella. Jasper strips off his "I'm with neurotypical" t-shirt, kicks off his flip flops, shimmies out of his jeans.
"Jasper … likes swimming in his boxers," I say. "Something about the material in swimming trunks ..."
"You'll hear no complaints from me." Alice sips her drink, kicking the water.
I palm my face a little, wondering if I should explain why Jasper doesn't like the material used in most swimming trunks, but I decide against it. Doesn't matter. No reason to divulge anything to this girl none of us will ever see again.
"So." She blows out a breath, glancing at me. "Sex on the Beach, huh? Pretty presumptive."
Jesus, I knew it. I overanalyzed this entire situation. They're just a couple of girls wanting to hang out on Spring Break. There's no booty call. No sexual outlets. The drink in my hand makes me feel foolish, and I consider dumping it into the pool, but then she laughs.
"Relax, I'm kidding." Alice toys with the straw between her teeth, her eyes thoughtful. "You're different from most guys. I can tell."
I wipe the condensation from the glass with the pad of my thumb, cooling my feverish skin. "Nah, not really."
"Yeah, you are. You're … nervous." Alice's eyes crinkle at the edges as she smiles. "It's cute."
"Cute? Great, just what every guy strives for. To be compared to a puppy."
Alice laughs, and takes another sip. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, still studying me. "You've got a girlfriend, don't you?"
Fuuuuck. I think my heart must stop for at least ten seconds straight before kicking into overdrive. I sit the drink down on the concrete beside me.
"It's complicated."
"Complicated as in?"
I blow out a sigh. "As in I'm not sure if I have a girlfriend or not."
Alice finishes her drink. "Complicated indeed."
Chuckling, I glance at the hearing aide tucked inside her right ear. "Can I ask you a question?"
"You just did." She's smirking. Her and her cocky little fifth-grade comeback skills.
"Back at the bar, why'd you act like you were deaf?"
Alice's eyes focus on the girl in the distance. "I don't know. I like fucking with people, I guess. Bella's idea, actually. Started when we were kids, when I started losing my hearing, and when she-." Shaking her head, she picks up the straw from her empty drink, and twists it into a knot. "We did some pretty dumb stuff back then. Still do. Bella says you can tell who a person really is at the most uncomfortable moments."
"What do you mean?"
"The biker guy, for instance," a voice says. I glance up and there she is, stooping down until she's sitting beside me, her arm brushing against mine. I pass her the drink, and she continues. "That guy showed his true self when he didn't think Alice could hear him. And he continued to show his true self when he realized she did. He was an ass. And you … weren't."
She tosses the drink back. Condensation drips from the glass and down the slight curve of her neck. I follow the drop with my eyes as it crawls down her skin, dipping and disappearing in places I long to touch. A splash nearby jerks me from my stupor. Jasper bobs to the surface of the water, tossing me a hearty wave. A genuine smile pushes its way to my face, and I wave back in response.
"Your brother's cute," Alice says.
"You really like that word," I reply.
Laughing, she nods. "Yeah, but he's cute-cute. Alice cute. You're-" She leans forward, throwing Bella a sneaky glance. "You're Bella-cute."
Glaring at her friend, Bella hands me her empty glass. "You got anymore of this … what's it called?"
The glimmer in her eyes tells me she knows exactly what it's called. She's forcing it out of me.
"Sex on the Beach."
"Yeah, Sex on the Beach. Will you fix me another?"
I reach for her glass, but she clutches it against her chest and stands, offering her hand. I take it, and she's leading me again. Leading and I'm following. Forever following.
The house is cool when I step inside, and Kate's nowhere around. I half expect her to pop around the corner any moment, camera recording or snapping shots of us at the bar, but her bedroom door is closed down the hall, and there's no strip of light glowing in the small space between the wood and the floor.
Bella checks out the wet bar, eyes wide open. "Damn, that's a lot of liquor."
Shrugging, I reach for the silver bowl filled with ice. "My parents are alcoholics."
"Really?"
"No, not really." I laugh, and she elbows me, grinning. It feels easy and familiar, and the strain of what-the-fuck-am-I-doing eases away for the moment.
"What are they like? Really like?" she asks.
I toss a couple cubes of ice into her glass. "Young. Happy. Free."
She raises an eyebrow. "They're not as uptight as you?"
"You think I'm uptight?"
"More uptight than most guys I know."
"How many guys do you know?" It's a loaded question. I can hear it in my own voice.
"Enough," she says, sliding the vodka my way. "Where are they now?"
"Who?"
"Your parents." She rolls her eyes.
Laughing, I shake my head. "Some 'I love the 90s concert or something."
Her eyes widen. "Salt-n-Peppa? Vanilla Ice?"
I snap my fingers and point at her. "Yeah, that's it. You know about that concert?" There's no way she's from around here. Can't be.
"They tour all over, not just in fuckawesome places like Florida."
I shove the drink across the bar in front of her. "Mississippi."
"Huh?" She picks up the drink, touching the glass to her lips.
"The concert's in Mississippi, not Florida." Leaning on the bar, I grin at her. "In a not so fuckawesome town."
"You're a smart ass."
"Sometimes. Why aren't you wearing a swimsuit? Thought you wanted to go swimming? Wasn't that the whole point of coming to my house?"
"Is that what you think?" I really came here to swim?"
"Isn't it?"
Smiling and downing half her drink, her eyes move away from mine to scan the room around us.
I glance around self-consciously. There's a couple old family photos hanging on the walls, but nothing too embarrassing. No pics of me in my awkward, pre-teen gangly stage, complete with glasses, crooked front teeth, and braces. Thank God for contacts, braces, and Proactiv.
"So your parents are out of town for the night?"
"For the weekend, actually." Busying my hands, I put away the various bottles of liquor. The weight of her stare makes my hands unsteady. "They spend a lot of time away on weekends."
"Why?"
"Why what?"
Bella polishes off the rest of the glass. She crunches an ice cube between her teeth. "Why do they spend a lot of time away?"
"I don't know." Shrugging, I wipe the counter down, then toss the towel on the counter near the sink. "I think they're secretly ready for us to all leave for college or … for whatever."
"And when will that be?"
"I graduate this year. Kate's got a couple years left."
"And your brother?"
I hesitate, blowing out a breath. "He graduated already."
"Is he still living here?" Bella's brow wrinkles with my nod. "Why?"
"Jasper … I don't know what Jasper'll do with the rest of his life. He doesn't function well on his own."
Bella's forehead smooths. Her entire face softens. She stares down at the empty drink in her hands. "Yeah, I get that." Bella glances back up, her expression tender. "Neither do I."
"You seem like you do okay." I break into a grin, remembering the way she was at the bar.
The tenderness fades into a smile. "You think I'm wild, huh?"
"Maybe a little."
"And reckless?" She pushes away her empty glass, reaching for my hands. Taking them in hers, she winds her icy-cold fingers through mine. That reckless smile of hers is gone, and there's something different about her eyes, different in the way she stands. "Edward? Don't you ever get tired of it?"
"Of what?"
Shrugging, she says nothing, and the nothingness of it all makes me think. Don't I ever get tired of it? The great "it?" The responsibilities, the worries? The heaviness of my flawed relationship with Rose, the flawed relationship with my bio family? Don't I get tired of waking up in this God-forsaken town every day? Don't I get tired of wanting to leave but having nowhere else to go?
"Yeah," I say, and she looks up. Our eyes meet, and I see she knows that I understand what she means. "I get tired of it."
Grimacing, she stares back down at our joined hands. "I wish I could escape, but it follows me everywhere. Seven hundred miles from home and it's still here."
The sad, enigmatic girl standing across from me swallows me whole. Her sorrow crushes me, makes me want to do something, anything to keep her afloat. "What's the craziest thing you've ever done?"
Raising her eyebrows, she's quiet for a couple seconds. "Hmm … probably the time I slept with a boy I barely knew."
My heart stutters inside my chest. "You do that a lot? Sleep with guys you barely know?"
"No, not a lot." Her hands squeeze mine. They're no longer cold now. They're warm, but still wet from the drink. "Just the one time."
"What made him special?"
"He was nice. Gorgeous. Considerate and courteous. Brave. And horny." She grins, and the stroke of her thumbs along the back of my hands drives a fire thrilling through my veins.
"What was this guy's name?"
"I never caught his last name," she says, looking at my mouth. "But his first name was Edward. We met on Spring Break."
Throat tightening, my voice dulls almost to a whisper. "Where'd you meet?"
"At a bar. He invited me back to his place to hang out, but I knew what he really wanted."
Jesus, this girl. "What'd he want?"
Bella shrugs. "What everyone wants. Same thing I want. To forget about life for a little while. To replace the pain with pleasure."
"Did he help you? Find … pleasure?" I almost blush at the word, sure I've never said it before. "Did he make you forget?"
A slow smirk curls on her face. "Take me to your bedroom and let's find out."
