At First Hate (Coastal Chronicles)

“Well, if it’s important, I deserve to know.”

He held me tighter against him. “Just promise we can get through this case.”

I paused, considering the statement. What if he won? What if my mom got the house and it was his fault? I squeezed my eyes shut. I couldn’t even consider that. It couldn’t happen.

“I can’t promise that,” I whispered.

He sighed. “I’ll do all the promising for the both of us then.”

It wasn’t enough. We’d always been complicated. But I didn’t know how we’d survive this if it went south. Why did I always put my heart on the line with him?

Interlude

When I was a child, I’d loved to play tea party with Gran. Not the British stuff that would have made me posh, but good, cold, sweet tea made with buckets of sugar. I’d pour it into our plastic cups and hold a pinkie out and beam, speaking in some fake British accent that was definitely more Scarlett O’Hara than Queen Elizabeth.

Then one day, I decided I was too old for the plastic tea set. Gran wasn’t around, but I wanted to play. And I wanted to use her porcelain set. The one she’d gotten as a wedding gift. Passed down from one generation to the next. It had a blue floral design and was the prettiest thing I’d ever seen. Also one of the few things I’d been explicitly told not to touch. Though I was sure they would one day be mine.

Since I knew how important it was, I took out the tea set with care, cradling it against my chest like it was life or death. At the time, it felt like it. Then, I poured myself the sweet tea, getting back into the fun of the game. I laughed and played as if I were allowed to use something this important every day.

I’d never know exactly what it was that shook me so much. Maddox startled me, but I’d heard his clomping steps. I should have known he was coming. But one minute, I was holding the teacup, and the next, the glass slipped out of my hand. I wasn’t fast enough by any stretch of the imagination to keep it from falling. The cup crashed to the floor, spilling tea everywhere and leaving broken china in tiny pieces.

When Gran found me, she was furious. But no one was as hard on me as myself. No one ever would be again. I’d taken something delicate and fragile and important and watched it be destroyed by my own carelessness.

So, when Derek and I began a relationship, I knew it was a china set just like the one Gran had. Precious and irreplaceable. I held it with care. I kept it safe. And I waited for the moment when it would shatter.

Part IV

27

Harvard

September 13, 2013

The doorbell rang.

“I got it. I got it. I got it!” I called before Derek could get off of the couch.

He laughed and got to his feet.

I swung the front door open, and Josie stood in the doorway, looking as utterly glamorous as always. We both shrieked, throwing our arms around each other and swaying side to side.

“I missed you so much,” I told her.

“Same. So much.”

I released her and pulled back. “You look amazing.”

She laughed. “Thanks. I love this,” she said, touching my green dress. Her eyes swept to Derek. “And this!”

“Hey, Josie,” he said.

She wrapped him in a hug, forgoing his offered hand. “This is the best taste you’ve ever had, Mars.”

I shook my head.

But Derek quirked a smile. “I couldn’t agree more.”

“Now, are there bars around here or what? My flight sucked. I had to have three vodka tonics to fight my nerves, and if I don’t start drinking again, I’m going to lose my buzz.”

I rolled my eyes. “So dramatic.”

“We know just the place,” Derek said with a laugh.

That was Josie. She entered any room and owned it. I loved her for it and envied her just as much.

She dropped her bags in the living room, and we were out the door ten minutes later, heading out to one of the Cambridge dive bars. It wasn’t going to be Josie’s scene, but I didn’t care. She had come here for me, not glamour.

We stepped inside the already-crowded bar, claiming a booth near the back. Derek disappeared a minute later to procure us drinks.

Josie looked around with a dirty grin on her face. “If I wasn’t married, I could have so much fun here.”

I snorted. “Classic Josie.”

“Well, I am who I am.” She tapped her electric-turquoise manicure against the hardwood table. “And you? You’re happy? He’s one hunk of a man.”

“I am. We are.”

I found Derek at the bar. Some girl had gone up to him and was clearly flirting. He put distance between them, and from my vantage point, he politely turned her down.