Dawn by McKayla Box

Chapter 33

Trevor points at the pier. “Remember that?”

We’re sitting on our boards in the ocean. We grabbed burritos on the way, ate them in his truck, and then drove down to the beach. We have the water to ourselves because the waves aren’t that great, but it’s nice to be sitting out in the ocean with him.

I smile. “How could I forget?”

“You were so scared the first time,” he says, laughing. “Your knees were shaking.”

“They were not.”

His smile is infectious. “Like a fucking earthquake.”

I splash him. “Well, you were being an asshole. A huge asshole. And I just thought you were trying to scare me.”

He pushes his wet hair away from his face. “I was never trying to scare you. I was just trying to make sure you liked me.”

“By scaring the shit out of me?”

“You could’ve turned and ran back to the beach,” he says. “I wouldn’t have stopped you. But you stayed. You wanted to jump with me. Admit it.”

I look at the pier. “Yeah. I did.” I look at him. “But why me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why did you pick me?” I ask. “You could’ve had any girl in the school. And you could’ve convinced any one of them to go up there with you. So why me?”

He thinks. “That first day on the beach.”

“What first day?”

“First day I saw you,” he says. “We came up to you on the beach and we didn’t recognize you. We thought you were hot and so we wanted to see who you were.”

“So you came up to me and acted like assholes?”

He laughs. “Yeah, well, it’s kind of our thing, isn’t it? I didn’t think I was being so much of an asshole as I was just flirting with you.”

“You were definitely being an asshole.”

He laughs again and shovels some water over his board. “Yeah, but I got your attention, didn’t I?”

I smile. He definitely had.

“But you didn’t take our shit,” he says. “You gave it right back. You didn’t care who I was or who Jake or Brett was. And you weren’t scared.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” I say.

“Okay. You hid it well if you were scared,” he says. “That was…kind of different. And hot. And I knew right then. I wanted to get to know you.”

“You wanted to fuck me.”

“Well, sure. But it was more than that. Because I knew you weren’t going to just go for that.” He smiles. “I just knew. And when you jumped with me, I knew that was it. I probably didn’t show it and I know things got fucked up for awhile, but I knew that was it for me. There was no one else I was interested in. Just you.”

This should be an absolutely perfect moment. Just me and him out on the water, talking about how all of this started. He’s straddling his board, looking like the ocean god he is, no wetsuit in the cold water, with the blue eyes and the concrete chest and the six-pack of abs and those strong, beautiful arms, and he’s just fucking perfect.

Except I can’t shake what’s going on from my mind.

I want this to be perfect.

But it’s not.

“Trevor,” I say. “I want you to stop.”

He raises an eyebrow. “You want me to stop telling you why I love you? That’s definitely a mood.”

“I want you to stop whatever you’re doing with Brett,” I tell him.

His smile dims. “I can’t do that, Pres. You know that. We’ve been over this.”

“You absolutely can,” I tell him. “You can go to the police or you can talk to your dad or do a million other things. But this right here? This moment, talking about how we met and all of that? This should be perfect. This should be everything I ever wanted. But I’m scared shitless for you guys and I want you to stop.”

He reaches over and takes my hand. “You don’t need to be scared. Everything is cool.”

“But it’s not,” I tell him, my voice breaking. “Don’t lie to me. Even if I don’t know what’s going on, things aren’t cool. You made that much clear.”

“We’ll be done soon,” he promises. “And then everything can be perfect.”

“Be done now,” I tell him. “Please. Just be done now.”

He looks over his shoulder toward the horizon. “Wave coming.” He slides onto his stomach and paddles forward, in front of the wave. I stay sitting on my board and rise up and over it. I see him pop up and ride it toward the shore. I shake my head, lay down on my board, and paddle in behind him.

He's off his board and on his feet when I reach him. He’s unstrapping the leash from his ankle and he shoves the board toward the shore. He puts his hands on his hips and squints into the late-day sun.

“He’s my best friend,” he says. “He got himself in trouble and he needs help getting himself out. I’m not going to bail on him. You wouldn’t bail on Bridget or Gina or Maddie. You wouldn’t, and you know it. So I’m not bailing on Brett. I’m sorry you’re scared. I don’t know what else I can say other than you have to trust me that everything is okay. But you can’t ask me to walk away from him.” He shakes his head. “You can’t ask me to do that.”

He's right, of course. I wouldn’t bail on the girls if they were in trouble and needed help. And I don’t know how far I’d go to help them, but I know it would be pretty far. It might be limitless. And I know that’s how he feels about Brett. They’re like brothers, even more so now with Jake gone. So as much as I hate what he’s telling me, I understand why he’s saying it. And I understand his reasoning. I don’t like it, but I understand. So I can’t ask him to quit on Brett. That’s not fair because he wouldn’t ask me to do that with my friends.

“Okay,” I say, unstrapping the leash from my ankle. “I won’t ask.”

“But you’re mad.”

“I don’t know what I am,” I tell him honestly. “I’m scared. I’m sad. Maybe a little mad, yeah. I don’t like this, Trevor. And I don’t like being kept in the dark. That makes it worse. Do you get that?”

He steps through the water and puts his arms around me. Even after just getting out of the icy Pacific, his body is warm and I can feel it through my wetsuit. I let him pull me in.

“Trust me,” he says. “I know I keep saying that. But just trust me and we’ll get through this and we’ll be okay. Then things can be perfect. Just like you said.”

I wrap my arms around him and stare at the sun out on the horizon, high above the ocean.

I really hope he’s right.