Valen’s boyfriend, Liam, is surrounded by a gaggle of college girls by the looks of it, and a couple guy friends when he spots us and breaks away.
“Hey, baby,” he says before promptly shoving his tongue down her throat with a hand on her ass. Liam’s at Northeastern, but you’d think he’s been on the other side of the world by the way he greets her.
Valen pulls back, breathless. “Hi.”
“Well, look who’s back from the dead,” Liam says as he wraps his arms around Valen from behind, just now noticing my presence. Valen elbows him in the ribs, sending him a disapproving glare for his poor word choice. “Shit, my bad. Welcome home, Shayne.”
“Much better,” Valen praises.
I roll my eyes, hating that she thinks people should walk on eggshells around me now. I’m not some fragile little flower. “Hey, Liam.”
“You ladies need a beverage?”
Valen nods and Liam gestures for us to follow him.
“So that’s going well, I assume,” I say, walking a few paces behind him.
“Yeah.” She shrugs.
He leads us over to a group of people surrounding a bonfire, the tall pieces of wood used to kindle the fire forming a teepee. Liam bends over, grabbing two plastic cups from a bag.
“I hope keg beer’s okay. We’re out of the hard stuff.” He plucks the hose while his friend pumps the keg, filling up the first cup for Valen. His friend takes the second one, filling it up for me.
“Matt, this is Shayne,” Liam says, nodding his chin at me. “My girl’s best friend.” Then he looks at me. “Matt goes to Northeastern.”
“Nice,” I say, unsure if I’m supposed to be impressed by that information, or if he’s just making small talk. “Congrats,” I tack on. I almost ask what they’re doing back in Sawyer Point instead of at some college party, but I keep it to myself, not wanting to offend. Matt’s the typical Bostonian, preppy frat boy with his long sleeves bunched up on his forearms, khaki shorts, Ken-doll hair, and boat shoes to top it all off. In other words, one million percent not my type.
He sends me a wink, handing me the cup. Liam tugs on Valen’s arm, taking an empty chair around the fire, before pulling her onto his lap.
“You still in high school?” Matt asks.
I nod.
“Very nice.”
I look away, uncomfortable with the way he leers at me. I stare out at the fire, hearing it crackle before it spits out a few embers that seem to disintegrate into the night sky. I’m hypnotized by the flames, the scent, the sound, as Matt drones on about something beside me. Something beyond the flames catches my attention, snapping me out of my eye lock.
Holden, Christian, and Thayer.
The sight of them together sends a jolt of sadness through me. Danny’s absence is almost tangible.
The three of them couldn’t be more opposite, each of them having their role. First, there’s Holden. The playboy. The comedian. Has a heart of gold somewhere underneath all that debauchery. Then there’s Christian. The athlete. On a fast track to success. Entirely too serious for someone our age. Has his entire future planned out. Lastly, there’s Thayer. The black sheep. The bad boy. He rejects his popularity, as if it’s a stain on his reputation, but despite that, he’s arguably the most coveted of the Ames boys. Or maybe because of it.
As if he can sense me looking at him, his eyes find mine through the fire. My breath hitches, heart stalling. I bring my thumb to my opposite hand, rubbing the faint raised scar on my wrist out of reflex. He seems shocked at first, as if he’s seeing a ghost. But then those eyes go cold and pass over me as if he didn’t see me at all. My throat gets tight as memories of forbidden love and loss and ultimately heartache hit me all at once. But I shove them down, closing my eyes to gain my composure.
He’s just a boy you used to know. You will not fall apart at the sight of him.
A hand on my shoulder breaks through my panic. “Are you okay?”
“Hmm?” I look over to see…what’s his name again? Matt. “Sorry.” I shake my head. “I spaced out.” Like a magnet, my gaze is being pulled back to Thayer, and Valen is suddenly at my side.
“I thought you said he was gone.” My voice is barely above a whisper.
“He was,” she says, sounding as confused as I feel. “I swear. I haven’t seen him for months.”
Thayer’s sitting in a folding chair with a girl draped across his lap sideways, her arm curled around his shoulders. Holden’s in the spot next to him, oblivious, getting his neck sucked on by a petite brunette in his lap.
“Maybe I should talk to them.” I nod to myself. “Rip off the Band-Aid. Right?” I ask, looking over to Valen for confirmation. It’s been almost a year. We’ve had time to move on. So why does it feel like only yesterday Thayer was rejecting me in the barn?
“Yeah,” she says, but she doesn’t sound convinced.
Before I can talk myself out of making what is sure to be a colossal mistake, I’m moving toward them.
When I come to a stop before them, neither one reacts. Thayer’s eyes lazily lift to meet mine, and there’s nothing but apathy shining back at me. His fingers glide up the girl’s thigh, and my eyes lock in on the movement, unable to look away. The hurt that slices through me catches me completely off guard, and my stomach twists with jealousy. I feel tears stinging the backs of my eyes, but there’s no way I’ll let them fall. I’m not the girl I was last year. At least that’s what I keep telling myself.
“Umm…” A feminine voice snaps me out of it. “Who is she?” she asks Thayer.
“No one.” He says the words casually, but I know they’re meant to hurt me. And they do.
“Can I talk to you for a second?”
Holden’s eyes shoot open at the sound of my voice before narrowing mischievously. Christian ignores my presence altogether as he pretends to listen to something Chris Baker says.
“Talk,” Thayer says, his fingers continuing their path on her bare thigh.
I swallow hard, trying to look away.
“Alone?” I try again.
“As you can see, I’m busy.”
I almost walk away. It’s clear this won’t end well. But I stay, determined to say my piece and get it over with. I shift nervously on my feet, uncertainty pricking my spine.
“Just because our parents aren’t together, doesn’t mean we can’t be—”
“What, friends?” Thayer cuts me off with a bitter laugh. “Is that what you were about to say?”
That isn’t what I was going to say—not in those words, anyway—but everything sounds so…generic. He stands abruptly, the girl on his lap tumbling to the ground with a shocked yelp, but he doesn’t so much as spare her a glance. He gets in my space, close enough that prying eyes and ears won’t hear his next words.
“We’re not friends. We’re not anything.”
“My mistake,” I say, shaking my head. He’s right. I don’t recognize this cold version of him at all.
I don’t know why I look to Holden for his reaction; it’s not like I’d get any backup from him. But he was my friend once, too. He’s staring at me with silent amusement painted across his features as the girl in his lap continues her assault on his neck. Disgusting.