Me: I know. I miss you.
Dad: Miss you, baby girl. I’ll come get you when I get back to the States.
Me: Deal.
That’s the last I heard from him—a week ago. My eyes well with tears, and I blink rapidly, keeping them at bay.
“You okay?”
I look over to see Trixie staring at me with a worried frown on her face, and I smile.
“Yeah, just missing my dad,” I say honestly, not wanting to hide how I’m feeling anymore.
“Are you pretty close with him?” She sits up, tucking a strand of short blonde hair behind her ear while swinging her legs over the side of her lounge chair, and she leans forward.
I take a sip of my drink that I forgot about, licking my lips at how tasty it is. There might be nothing better than a fruity drink on a mega yacht.
“Yeah, I am. But lately, we haven’t talked much.”
“I don’t talk to my parents much either,” she says.
A rare insight into her family life. I’m not sure she’s ever brought them up to me.
I take another drink as I look at her. “Why not?” I ask.
I watch as a cloud passes over her face. It goes from open and smiling to frowning with dark shadows in her eyes.
“It’s a long story, but we don’t exactly see eye to eye on most things.”
“That’s how I was with my mom, but now that we have lived apart for a while, I think we might be getting somewhere with our relationship. She’s coming to see me on Thursday.”
“That’s nice,” Trixie says, but I don’t feel like she’s invested in the conversation anymore.
I nod and finish my drink in one long gulp.
“This is really good,” I say, holding up my empty glass. “I wonder what it is.”
“If I had to guess, I’d say something alcoholic,” Trixie says, taking off her cover-up and lying back down.
“I don’t taste any alcohol,” I say, frowning.
“That’s how they get you,” she says, smiling and tipping her drink back. “But I’m not mad about it. I’m letting loose today.”
“Same, girl. Same.” I take a deep breath. I reach down, grip the hem of my cover-up, and pull it over my head, fully ready to take advantage of the sun.
We lie there for about twenty minutes, soaking in the rays, before a dark shadow falls across me, making me open my eyes. A guy is standing there, one I don’t recognize. He’s tall, filled out, and wearing a signature smirk that these prep-school boys have down to a T.
“Yes?” I ask when he doesn’t say anything for a while.
“You wouldn’t happen to be amazing at beer pong, would you?” His smirk widens into a grin as I put my hand up, shielding my eyes from the sun.
“I’m actually not,” I say. “But I can pretend to be if you need a partner?”
I feel almost giddy inside at the attention. Or maybe it’s the alcohol. I hear Trixie shift next to me before the sound of her gasp reaches my ears.
“Connor?” she says, sitting up.
I watch the smirk melt off the guy’s face as he notices who she is.
“Trixie?”
“What are you doing here?” she asks, her eyes darting around.
Something about her almost seems panicked, and I don’t know why.
“We were invited.”
“We? Is he here?”
Connor scratches the back of his head, looking uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Yeah, he is. But don’t worry, Trix; you probably won’t see him.”
“That makes me feel tons better,” she deadpans with a groan. “I’m going to the bathroom.”
She stands, and I grab her wrist before she can walk away.
“Excuse us, Connor. I need a quick word here,” I say, standing and walking with her. “What’s going on?” I ask once we are far enough away.
Trixie’s back is to Connor, but I can see him staring at us. Trixie fidgets with the string on her bikini, not looking at me.
“It’s fine, Landry. Connor is a good guy. You should go play beer pong with him.”
“No, it’s not okay. Something is wrong, and I want you to spill.”
“Connor attends Heywood Prep. I have a history with another guy who goes there, and I don’t want to see him right now.” She glances over her shoulder to see Connor still standing there.
“Does this have something to do with what happened with Bodhi?”
She nods, and I worry my bottom lip. This isn’t adding up.
“Why would they invite him then?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “But I’m not sure I like it. It’s either a power play between the two schools. Or something is going down.”
I shudder at the ominous tone of her voice.
Connor walks over to us, hands held out as if he’s coming in peace, and I nod my head in his direction, letting Trixie know.
“Where is he?” she asks as soon as he’s standing beside us.
“Saw him go in one of the downstairs rooms. I don’t think he will be out anytime soon.” He shifts from foot to foot. “Come on. Let’s go play and get your mind off of it.”
He smiles brightly again, and I look at Trixie.
“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” I tell her. I won’t abandon my only friend over a boy.
She squares her shoulders and looks at me. “No, let’s go have some fun. I won’t let him bring me down.”
“That’s the spirit,” I say and look to Connor. “We are in.”
I grin, and he wraps an arm around each of our waists, leading us down the back stairs to the lower deck.
The vibe down here is more party than relaxing. There are four tables set up, an entire tournament going with lots of shouting and laughter. I almost feel normal again as I take my place by Connor, Trixie standing at the side of the table to cheer us on.
“Who are we playing against?” I ask.
Connor looks toward the board, where a bracket is set up, squinting to see who we are paired against. With a groan, he turns back to me. “Fuck, we are playing Corbin and Brock.”
My stomach drops, and my smile disappears.
Connor notices and bumps my shoulder with his. “Everything okay?”
I paste a smile back on and bump his shoulder back. “Peachy,” I say, and he chuckles.
“We probably won’t win, but who knows? Sometimes, the underdogs come out on top.”
“Very rarely, Connor. But I like your way of thinking,” I say with a laugh. I turn around and lean my butt against the table as I look at him. “So, you must not know.”
“Know what?” He crosses his arms as he looks at me.
I can’t help but notice he’s everything Corbin isn’t. Almost as if I found the light to his dark. His brown eyes stay on me as I cock my head and plant my hands on the table.
“Who I am,” I say, and he laughs.
“Actually, no. I haven’t even asked your name.”
“Landry,” I say, holding my hand out, and he grasps it in his palm, warm and large, pulling me in close.
“Nice to meet you, Landry,” he whispers.
I feel goose bumps break out along my skin as I catch green eyes staring at me over his shoulder.