my eyes.
“That’s obviously what you’re looking for. You saved me out there, and now you have to protect the poor, little girl so no bad guys get her while she sits on the beach. I don’t need anyone to save me.”
“Nah, you got me wrong, rich girl. I’m nobody’s savior. I know who and what I am, and I’m proud of it. Have fun.” He stands again and starts to walk away. His voice plays in my head. The way it caught when he spoke. Guilt starts snaking it’s way through my insides. Yeah, he was a jerk to me and he’s a little scary, but he did save me. And he gave me his hoodie. He didn’t have to do either of those things.
As much as I hate to admit it, I don’t want to be alone. I want to pretend today didn’t happen, the same way I pretend my past didn’t happen.
“Wait,” jumps out of my mouth before I can stop it. Saying it, feeling it, makes me raw, exposed in a way that makes my skin itch. Needing is weak, and I promised myself I would never be that. If I’m weak, it will be easier for our family curse to get its claws into me.
Pierced-lip boy stops, pauses, and then turns around. He’s way taller than me. His hair dark, and sort of wavy. He doesn’t say a word until he gets back over to me. “You should take your pants off.”
“I…What…I’m not…”
He laughs and shakes his head. “I’m not trying to have sex with you. Unless you want to, then I’m game.”
My cheeks get hot next. I’ve had boyfriends, but no one has ever said something like that to me before.
“You’re shivering, and the wet clothes make it worse. Take your pants off. You’re small enough to sit with your knees in the hoodie to keep you warm.”
Oh. Okay. I guess that makes sense. “Turn around.”
“Really?” There’s enough question in his tone that tells me he’s not asking to be a jerk. He’s genuinely surprised I would ask him that. “It’s not like I’m going to attack you.”
Still, he turns around. As fast as I can, I slip out of my pants, lay them out and then sit down. I pull my knees up into the hoodie like he said, immediately feeling warmer. “Okay, you can turn around now.”
He does, and then he sits beside me. We’re quiet for a few minutes and again I feel my cheeks warm. Why did I ask him to stay? I don’t even know this guy. I don’t need anyone.
“You can go,” I whisper.
“Nah, it’s cool. I didn’t really feel like being around a bunch of people tonight anyway.”
We go back to being quiet again. Pierced-lip boy rolls his pant legs up, and then stares out at the ocean. Questions rapid-fire in my brain: why doesn’t he want to be around people? Is he as lonely as he looks?
And then something strange happens… I start to pretend he’s like me. That he feels cursed to be who his parents are. That he’s trapped. That he lives a lie, with everyone close to him because he’s so scared to show them who he is.
Because he’s afraid of what that might be.
I open my mouth to say something. I don’t know what, but his phone rings, saving me.
He pulls it out of his pocket and answers with a, “What’s up?”
He covers the cell and looks at me. “Do you have a car?”
I nod.
Back on the phone he says, “Nah, I’m cool. I have a ride. I’ll catch you guys later.”
I don’t bring up the fact that he didn’t ask me or that I don’t know where he lives. I’m just thankful not to be alone tonight. Not to have to think about Mom, Dad…or Amelia.
“Your name’s Lulu?” He asks after a bit.
Immediately I tense up. Reaching over, I touch my jeans to make sure my keys, with my mini pepper spray on them, are still in the pocket.
“Relax. I’m not stalking you. You said it earlier.”
Oh yeah. Duh. Little flashes of Mom from today flitter into my head. How excited she looked at the school, how sad she looked at my house. “My mom named me after Virginia Woolf.” I’m not sure why I say this. “But my middle name is Lulu. That’s what I go
“That’s obviously what you’re looking for. You saved me out there, and now you have to protect the poor, little girl so no bad guys get her while she sits on the beach. I don’t need anyone to save me.”
“Nah, you got me wrong, rich girl. I’m nobody’s savior. I know who and what I am, and I’m proud of it. Have fun.” He stands again and starts to walk away. His voice plays in my head. The way it caught when he spoke. Guilt starts snaking it’s way through my insides. Yeah, he was a jerk to me and he’s a little scary, but he did save me. And he gave me his hoodie. He didn’t have to do either of those things.
As much as I hate to admit it, I don’t want to be alone. I want to pretend today didn’t happen, the same way I pretend my past didn’t happen.
“Wait,” jumps out of my mouth before I can stop it. Saying it, feeling it, makes me raw, exposed in a way that makes my skin itch. Needing is weak, and I promised myself I would never be that. If I’m weak, it will be easier for our family curse to get its claws into me.
Pierced-lip boy stops, pauses, and then turns around. He’s way taller than me. His hair dark, and sort of wavy. He doesn’t say a word until he gets back over to me. “You should take your pants off.”
“I…What…I’m not…”
He laughs and shakes his head. “I’m not trying to have sex with you. Unless you want to, then I’m game.”
My cheeks get hot next. I’ve had boyfriends, but no one has ever said something like that to me before.
“You’re shivering, and the wet clothes make it worse. Take your pants off. You’re small enough to sit with your knees in the hoodie to keep you warm.”
Oh. Okay. I guess that makes sense. “Turn around.”
“Really?” There’s enough question in his tone that tells me he’s not asking to be a jerk. He’s genuinely surprised I would ask him that. “It’s not like I’m going to attack you.”
Still, he turns around. As fast as I can, I slip out of my pants, lay them out and then sit down. I pull my knees up into the hoodie like he said, immediately feeling warmer. “Okay, you can turn around now.”
He does, and then he sits beside me. We’re quiet for a few minutes and again I feel my cheeks warm. Why did I ask him to stay? I don’t even know this guy. I don’t need anyone.
“You can go,” I whisper.
“Nah, it’s cool. I didn’t really feel like being around a bunch of people tonight anyway.”
We go back to being quiet again. Pierced-lip boy rolls his pant legs up, and then stares out at the ocean. Questions rapid-fire in my brain: why doesn’t he want to be around people? Is he as lonely as he looks?
And then something strange happens… I start to pretend he’s like me. That he feels cursed to be who his parents are. That he’s trapped. That he lives a lie, with everyone close to him because he’s so scared to show them who he is.
Because he’s afraid of what that might be.
I open my mouth to say something. I don’t know what, but his phone rings, saving me.
He pulls it out of his pocket and answers with a, “What’s up?”
He covers the cell and looks at me. “Do you have a car?”
I nod.
Back on the phone he says, “Nah, I’m cool. I have a ride. I’ll catch you guys later.”
I don’t bring up the fact that he didn’t ask me or that I don’t know where he lives. I’m just thankful not to be alone tonight. Not to have to think about Mom, Dad…or Amelia.
“Your name’s Lulu?” He asks after a bit.
Immediately I tense up. Reaching over, I touch my jeans to make sure my keys, with my mini pepper spray on them, are still in the pocket.
“Relax. I’m not stalking you. You said it earlier.”
Oh yeah. Duh. Little flashes of Mom from today flitter into my head. How excited she looked at the school, how sad she looked at my house. “My mom named me after Virginia Woolf.” I’m not sure why I say this. “But my middle name is Lulu. That’s what I go
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