Dawn by McKayla Box

Chapter 6

Shanna Becker smiles at me, but it’s the way a lion might smile at something it’s about to eat. Her blond hair is a little longer, her red T-shirt a little tighter, and her denim skirt a little shorter, but that expression on her face tells me she’s still the same bitch she’s always been.

“I thought you’d be smart enough to stay home tonight,” Shanna says.

“And miss seeing you?” I say. “Never. This is such a treat for me. Like always.”

“I’m sure it is,” she says, flipping her hair with a shake of her head. “Actually, I thought you would’ve been back in Sunset a lot sooner. Figured all of those classes with the big words at Santa Barbara would’ve been too much for you.”

“I’ve got a nice dictionary,” I tell her. “I’m managing just fine.”

She makes a face like she just swallowed something sour.

“Are we gonna do this again?” I ask.

“Do what, exactly?” she snarls.

I gesture with my cup. “This. This whole you hate me thing for whatever your reasons are, then you harass me and try to fuck with me and it ends up backfiring on you?” I smile at her. “I mean, you’re on probation, right?”

I, in fact, know that she’s on probation for all of the shitty things she did to me my senior year. She’s truly lucky she’s not in jail. But having her freely roam the streets and being able to remind her that she’s on probation might actually be more fun.

“Fuck you,” she growls.

“No thanks,” I tell her. “Do I really occupy that much space in your head? That the first thing you think of when you come home for break is me?” I raise an eyebrow. “Maybe I should be flattered.”

Her cheeks flush pink and I can see them even in the dark. “Don’t be. The only thought I give you is thinking about how I can fuck up your life the way you fucked up mine.”

I laugh. “I think you are either already super drunk or college has warped your head. Because, as usual, you’ve got it all wrong and backwards.”

“I don’t have anything backwards,” she snaps. “You went whining to everyone about last year and my parents had to pay a fortune for attorneys and now I’m on probation. All because of you.”

“All because of what you did,” I say pointedly. “Get that part right. All because of what you did to me.”

She glares at me. A year ago, I was intimidated by her. I didn’t want to be, but I was. She’d pretended to be my friend, but she just wanted to mess with the new girl. And when Trevor and I got together, that just set her off and she focused her year entirely on trying to ruin my life. She got close, but it backfired on her. So, a year ago? Yeah, I would’ve been terrified of this conversation, standing alone with her on the beach.

But now?

It just seems so stupid.

“Whatever,” she says, which is pretty much the most Shanna answer she can give me. “I’m putting you on notice. I haven’t forgotten what you put me through. And I don’t plan on forgetting. You’ll pay.”

It’s the logic of a crazy person, so there’s no point in arguing with her or trying to be reasonable. It’s utterly pointless.

“You do you, Shanna,” I say. “Do whatever makes you feel better. I don’t give a shit what you do. But good to know I live rent free in your head.”

She squints and me and brushes the hair from her face, like she’s studying me. Everything about her just screams nasty.

I stare back at her.

A small, ugly smile creeps across her lips. “By the way, where’s Trevor?”

I hate hearing his name come out of her mouth. “He’ll be here.”

“I thought he’d be attached to you the second you got home,” she says. “Or maybe things have changed in that world.”

“Nothing’s changed,” I tell her. “You wish.”

“You sure about that?” she says, arching a perfectly plucked brow. “I’ve already been home for a week. I’ve seen some things.”

I know that she’s just trying to get under my skin, but I hate that she can. “You haven’t seen shit.”

“No?” she asks, raising both eyebrows now. “Interesting.”

“I’m not wasting my night with you,” I tell her. “Or my break. Have a great night.”

I go to walk past her and she grabs my arm. I shake loose of her grip.

She laughs. “You don’t know, do you?”

“Don’t know what?”

She laughs again and shakes her head. “Oh, this is so great.” She feigns innocence. “Oh, nothing. You’ll find out soon enough, I’m sure.”

I want to ask her what she means because the way she says it?

She’s not just messing with me.

She means it.

She’s telling the truth. About something.

But I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of asking her about it, so I just turn and head back to my friends.