Home > At First Hate (Coastal Chronicles #2)(3)

At First Hate (Coastal Chronicles #2)(3)
Author: K.A. Linde

“Maddox is going to be picking us up any minute. If we’re late, he’ll drive off without us. I’ve watched him do it.”

Josie huffed. “Fine.” She twirled her fingers at Kyle, mouthing, Call me, and then followed us out of the stadium. “You got your ass kicked.”

“Yep,” I said, “Lila’s team is better.”

Lila groaned. “Let’s not. I’ve only been at St. Catherine’s for three months, and I want to die. I will never fit in there.”

“Well, it’s better than being in Atlanta,” Josie complained.

For as long as I could remember, Josie had spent every summer in Savannah with us. Her dad would drop her off the day after school got out to stay with her mom, who had a reputation in these parts the size of Mount Rushmore, and pick her up the day before school started. But we’d all gotten so attached, and she loved Savannah like it was home that her dad had agreed to let her drive down to see us now that she had a license. Another thing Gran would never, ever let me do.

Maddox was waiting in an old Ford pickup that used to belong to Gramps. Even though we were twins, I didn’t have my license. We’d both turned sixteen three days ago, and Maddox had passed his driver’s test with flying colors. It was the only test I’d ever failed in my entire life. And so Maddox got the truck and the fun job of chauffeuring us around.

“Get in,” Maddox said, reaching across the seat and opening the passenger door.

It only had one long seat across the front, and we had to squash inside to fit. Josie practically crawled onto Maddox’s lap, then Lila, and then me after I threw my bag into the bed. He zoomed away with all the freedom that I was lacking.

Maddox parked on the street, like everyone else in Savannah, and we trudged inside. Gran was waiting up for us, as usual, with Gramps snoring softly in the old brown recliner. She got to her feet as her eyes went to the clock. As if she didn’t already know the time.

“Late game,” she said, pulling us each in for a hug. “Y’all win?”

I shook my head. “Nah. We’re no good.”

“Ah, next time, chickadee,” she said with a kiss to my forehead. “Now, change out of that ridiculous skirt. Y’all hungry?” A chorus of yeses followed. She nodded. “I’ll whip something up. I got some biscuits in the freezer, and I can make some gravy.”

“Thanks, Gran,” Josie said, knocking her hip against Gran’s. “You’re the best.”

“Nothing like Gran’s biscuits,” Maddox agreed.

“And fried chicken,” Lila said. “Makes my mouth water thinking about it.”

“I’m going to change,” I said and headed up the creaking stairs to my room.

It was still decorated in a splash of pink from the days when I’d liked the color. I was more partial to dark colors now, but it wasn’t like we could afford much to renovate. So, pink it was. Lila and Josie followed in my wake, crashing into my room and dropping onto the bed.

“So, who was that hot guy you were talking to?” Josie asked.

I slipped out of my cheer uniform and into oversize sweats and a T-shirt. “Some Holy Cross guy.”

“I missed it,” Lila said.

“He invited me to a Halloween party.”

Josie perked up. “Party?”

“We’re not going,” I told her.

“But…” She pouted.

Lila laughed. “As if Gran would let her go.”

“Tell her that you’re staying with Lila. Works like a charm.”

“I don’t want to go.”

“Well, I do!” Josie said. “Hot guys are my specialty.”

“You’re boy crazy.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing!”

Maddox cracked his head in. “Gran said food’ll be ready any minute.”

“Excellent,” Josie said. She leaned against the door and fluttered her eyelashes at Maddox. “Do you think you could cover for us tomorrow if we go to a party?”

“I, uh… have a gig,” he stumbled over his words, as he always did around Josie.

“For what?”

“Maddox is in a band,” I said, “remember?”

“Local Carnage,” he said with a grin. “We’re, uh, we’re playing a local Halloween party for some rich dude.”

I groaned. “It’s probably the same party. Gran is letting you go?”

He scratched the back of his head. His dark hair falling into his eyes. “Well, I told her it was for a charity thing.”

Lila cackled. “Brilliant.”

Josie squealed. “Let’s do it!”

Everyone turned to stare at me. The only one who had no interest in a Holy Cross party on Halloween. But how could I say no with everyone else on board?

I sighed heavily. “Fine.”

 

 

3

 

 

Savannah

 

 

October 30, 2004

 

 

I didn’t have a costume.

Josie was going as Marilyn Monroe, iconic white dress and all. Lila had gone for Greek goddess, complete with a skimpy toga that Josie had sewn into place. I’d declined a dozen suggestions. If Gran saw me in any of Josie’s outfits, I’d be in trouble for the rest of my life.

Which was how I’d donned Lila’s St. Catherine’s uniform. A plaid miniskirt that Josie had hiked up against my protests, white button-up, and tie. Lila had fished out some knee-highs and braided two pigtails to give off the perfect Catholic schoolgirl effect. I felt like a fraud.

“You look hot. Shut up,” Josie said.

I rolled my eyes. “Easy for you to say.”

I gestured to her. Josie was… Josie. Tall and tan with flowing black hair and hazel eyes. She was extroverted and flirtatious. She dominated a room. She always had. And then there was sarcastic, cynical, brainy, introverted me.

“You do look hot,” Lila said with a shrug.

Her blonde hair was loose and lips painted bright red. Long dancer legs were exposed against the white toga and black high heels. The benefit of having really hot friends meant no one spent too much time looking at me at least.

“All right,” I said with a sigh. “Let’s do this.”

Maddox was waiting out front in his truck. He wasn’t dressed up, except to look like a rocker, which wasn’t that different than his normal attire—ripped black jeans, a white Nirvana T-shirt, and his hair brushed forward to look emo. I was pretty sure he was even sporting guyliner.

“Hot, Maddox,” Josie said, shimmying in tight next to him.

He went nonverbal. Typical.

“Just drive. Let’s get this over with.”

Lila and Josie laughed at my lack of enthusiasm, but it was short-lived. It was hard to be with my two best friends and not be happy. We were so rarely all together that it would be a travesty to not revel in it.

Halloween weekend in Savannah meant three things: one, my birthday, two, parking was shit, and three, the ghost tours were packed. If we had to lay on the horn at one more oblivious tour, I was going to go mad. I remembered why we never did anything other than birthday shenanigans for Halloween. Savannah was one of the most haunted cities in America. Any local could probably rattle off a half-dozen ghost stories without blinking, but the tourists made it all so over the top.

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