I ask absently, still staring out at the water.
Dare doesn’t miss a beat. “No. Because that’s an odd thing to know.”
I feel the laughter bubbling up in me, threatening to erupt.
“I agree. It is.” It’s something my brother shared with me yesterday.
Dare smiles. “I’ll be sure to work that in at the next party I attend.”
I can’t help but smile now. “I’m sure it’ll go over well.”
He chuckles. “Well, it’s a conversation starter, for sure.”
I don’t move because I sort of want to stay here forever, even though the dampness of the sand has leached into my jeans and now my butt is wet.
But even though I don’t want this to end, the darkness is so black now that it swallows us up. It’s getting late.
I sigh.
“I’ve got to go back.”
“Okay,” Dare answers, his voice low in the night, and if I didn’t know better, I’d think I detected regret in it. Maybe he wants to stay here longer, too.
He helps me to my feet, and then keeps his hand on my elbow as we walk over the driftwood and through the tidal pools and up the trail. It’s that thing that real men do, the guiding a woman across the room thing. It’s gentlemanly and chivalrous and my ovaries might explode from it because it’s intimate and familiar and sexy.
When we get to the house, he removes his hand and I immediately feel the absence of his warmth.
He looks down at me, a thousand things in his eyes that I can’t define but want to.
“Good night, Calla. I hope you feel better now.”
“I do,” I murmur.
And as I pad up the stairs, I realize that I actually do.
For the first time in six weeks.
8
OCTO
Finn
JumpJumpJumpJumpJumpJumpJumpJumpYouFuckingCowardJump.
“Hey,” Calla’s voice is soft from my doorway.
I yank away from my open bedroom windows as though the sills are on fire. I’d seen Calla walk up the path with him, but I hadn’t realized she was already back in the house.
“Hey,” I stammer, as I move far away from the windows and try to tune out the fucking voices that taunt me. “About earlier. Are you mad?”
Calla sinks onto my bed, sitting on her hands. She stares at me hesitantly.
“No. I’m just worried. You know why.”
I do. My journal. I also know that she still hadn’t ratted me out to my dad. Because she knows my deepest fear… of being locked away.
YouDeserveChainsChainChainsChains.