Dawn by McKayla Box

Chapter 14

Ipace around the house for ten minutes, my heart still racing, the anger still burning inside of me, and then decide I need air. If I know Trevor, his next step if he really wants to talk to me and I won’t answer the phone will be to show up at the front door.

Fuck that.

I grab my keys and wallet – but not my phone – and head to my car. I half expect to find Trevor in the driveway already, but he’s not.

And I’m not sure how I feel about that.

I hate all of this.

This isn’t what I wanted to come home to.

I wanted this break to be a chance for us to catch up and reconnect and maybe make some plans for the future. Not marriage or babies or anything like that, but just to look at what the next couple of years might look like for both of us. But now, I feel like I’m in quicksand and I can’t get out of it and I might be heading back to school after a really shitty break.

I’m still hungry because I barely ate any of my burrito at lunch with the girls, so I head to The Hut, our go-to place in high school. The lot is half-empty when I pull in and I’m relieved. I’m used to it being packed at lunch time, but it’s later than that, so it’s a random crowd of people. I go inside, order my burger, fries, and drink, then take my food to one of the picnic tables outside once it’s ready. Because I’m still upset, I’m not sure I’ll actually be able to eat, but once I sit down and unwrap the burger, I devour it in just a couple of bites.

The taste of the food stirs up the nostalgia in my head. I remember coming here for the first time with the girls for lunch. I remember Derek being a complete asshole, hitting on me. And I remember Trevor roaring into the parking lot, Jake and Brett with him, and walking in like he owned the place. He stared down Derek, and he made it clear that day that he was interested in me. He was cocky and so full of himself and I wanted to hate him.

But I didn’t.

I knew it right then that I didn’t hate him.

I just didn’t know I’d end up falling in love with him.

I shake my head and pull some of the fries from the bag and wash them down with the soda. I glance across the parking lot and see a truck pull in.

Brett’s truck.

I stiffen.

It parks and this time, Brett actually gets out of it.

Or a version of Brett, I guess.

His dark hair is a little longer than when I last saw him. He’s always had a little stubble on his face, but now he’s got close to a full beard. His normally broad shoulders seem smaller. All of him seems smaller, actually. He’s always been nearly as big as Trevor, larger than life. Tall, built like a surfer. But now, from across the lot, it’s almost as if he’s shrunk.

He disappears inside and I sit there, unsure what to do. Any other time, I would’ve walked across the lot to talk to him without even thinking. He and I have always been cool. But now everything feels weird, and I feel caught in this sort of purgatory and I don’t know what to do. He’s Trevor’s best friend. No one knows him better.

Not even me.

My stomach tightens and the fries don’t look so great now. I gather up everything into the bag, finish the soda, and drop all of my trash in the can next to the table. I hesitate for just a second, then make my way across the lot toward Brett’s truck.

When he comes out, he’s got his drink in one hand, a bag of food in the other, and his phone is in that same hand. He’s trying to read it and hold onto the bag at the same time. He doesn’t see me standing next to the truck until he reaches for his door and then he stops cold, startled.

“Presley,” he says. “Hey.”

I hold up a hand. “Hey.”

We both stand there for a few seconds without saying anything. There are dark circles under his eyes and he’s definitely thinner. It wasn’t a mirage from across the parking lot.

“I, uh…yeah,” he says. “Trevor said you were back from school. How is it? School, I mean.”

“It’s good,” I say. “How have you been?”

He shrugs and forces a smile. “You know. The same.”

“Yeah?”

He shrugs again.

I have a million things I want to ask him but I force myself to not start drilling him with questions.

“You weren’t at the bonfire last night,” I say. “We thought you’d be there.”

He sets the food and drink in the bed of the truck and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah. I was gonna, but had some stuff going on and it got late and I was tired, so…yeah. Just didn’t make it.” He glances at me, then past me. “How was it?”

“The same,” I tell him. “People drinking and catching up. The usual.”

He nods. “Right. Cool.”

We stand there in silence for a minute, the only sound the hum of traffic from the road.

I can’t take it anymore.

“Brett,” I say.

He raises an eyebrow.

“What the fuck is going on?” I ask.

He blinks and his brows furrow. “What?”

“What is going on?” I repeat. “You look like hell. Trevor is lying to me about I don’t know what. And I’m pretty sure you’re lying about last night.”

“Whoa,” he says, his eyes widening. “Where’s this coming from?”

I take a deep breath and hold it for a second. I don’t want to explode here in the parking lot, but I also am not looking to be gaslit for the second time in a couple of hours.

I exhale slowly.

“Brett,” I say, choosing my words carefully. “I saw Trevor in your truck this morning, meeting some chick in the parking lot at the beach. He gave her an envelope. I went to his house and saw another girl in his bedroom, half-dressed. We spent a couple hours together last night, but…he’s basically been avoiding me since I got home. I could probably make the case that he’s been avoiding me for longer than that. I know he quit working for his dad and when I asked him about it, he said he was helping you out with some stuff. So where this is all coming from is that I know something is going on, but you guys are trying to make me feel fucking stupid about it.” I take another deep breath, then exhale. “And you do look like shit. I’m sorry, but you do. So. What the hell is going on?”

He looks away and rubs at his chin for a few seconds, squinting into the sunlight.

“Are you alright?” I ask. “Because you don’t look like you’re alright.”

He bites his bottom lip for a moment, then looks at me. “I don’t know anything about the girl at his house, but I know he wouldn’t cheat on you. So, whatever that is, it’s not what you think.”

I scoff. “Hard to think otherwise at this point.”

“Maybe,” he says. “But he wouldn’t do that. I don’t know who she is or what she was doing there and you can believe me or not. I don’t give a shit. But I don’t know anything about her.”

He sounds like he means it.

But that’s only half the problem.

“What about the chick in the parking lot at the beach?” I ask. “What about the way you look?”

He runs a hand through his hair, tiny lines forming at the corners of his eyes. “Look, Presley, I don’t want to get in the middle of whatever the deal is with you and Trev. That’s not my place.” He pauses and cuts his eyes in my direction. “But you wanna stay out of this.”

“How can I stay out of something when I don’t even know what it is?” I ask, rolling my eyes.

He picks up his food and drink from the bed of the truck. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. Trevor will, too. We’re…taking care of things. I’ll talk to him.”

“You’ll talk to him,” I say. “About what? What are you going to talk to him about?”

He pulls open the door to the truck. “Just…I’ll talk to him, okay? Things are just kind of fucked up right now, but we’re getting it figured out. And it has nothing to do with you.”

“It has nothing to do with me?” I repeat incredulously. “Are you serious?” I step around him and push the door closed. “You won’t even talk to me. You’re giving me this line of bullshit and you won’t even look at me.”

“You gotta move,” he says. “I need to go.”

“No. Not until you talk to me.”

“I need to go, Presley.”

“No.”

He whirls around, his entire face now a mask of anger. “I have to go! Get the fuck out of my way!”

I haven’t been this afraid of him since the first day he and Trevor and Jake came up to me on the beach when I first moved to Sunset. I take a step back, shocked by how pissed off he is.

He must recognize it, too, because something flashes through his expression and his face softens. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just…I gotta go.” He pulls the door open and pauses before he gets in. “I’m sorry.”

Then he slides in behind the wheel, yanks the door closed, and I watch him drive away.