“No. I don’t think you sounded mean enough. Fuck Amanda. Fuck Bryson. Fuck them both.”
“Yeah, fuck them.” He nods, a smirk on his face. “So, I can assume you don’t want Bryson back, right?”
“No. I blocked his number and everywhere on social media,” I admit.
His brows lift and I swear for a moment he looks like he’s relishing this news. “Really?”
“Yeah, he’s doing too much. Never thought something like that would make me cringe, but it does.”
Daniel presses his lips together to muffle his laugh, but it still slips out. “I’m so proud of you. I should do that too.” He fishes his phone out of his pocket, goes to her contact, blocks her number, then goes through all his socials and does the same.
Wow.
“I thought you were here with someone,” I admit and cringe a second later. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought it up.
He stares at me, confused. “Who would I be here with?”
I twist my ring. “I was at Salty Rims and overheard a conversation about…” Why did I bring this up? I proceed to quickly tell him and attempt to hide my mortification because he knows I was eavesdropping if I heard that much.
Sex doesn’t bother me. I have no qualms about it, but it’s talking about it to a guy who I’ve been dreaming about and getting off to that makes this weird.
“I told you I wouldn’t bring anyone here and I meant that. I’ve also just not been in the mood. Even if I was, they’re not who—I’m just not in the mood.”
I tuck my hair behind my ear. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“About sex?”
“No, but if you want to, we can. I meant about the sand in your eye.”
All the humor drains from his face. “Not really. It was just sand.”
Sucking in a breath, I wipe my palms on my thighs and stand. “Get up,” I demand. “Now.”
Daniel doesn’t hesitate to do as I say, just stares at me, bemused. “What are we going to do?” The sun is setting behind him, casting a glow around him like a halo.
“You don’t like talking about yourself and neither do I, but you need someone and while I’m no therapist, I’m here.”
“It’s okay. I’m fine. I promise.” He smiles.
I shake my head, anxiously fisting my hands at my sides. “I was homeschooled all my life and I think that’s why I’m socially awkward and can’t make friends. And Mom told me having them would hinder my focus on swimming. Take your hoodie off.”
He gapes at me, voicing a disbelieving quiet, “What?”
“I gave a little about me; now you take something off. You give me a little something, I’ll take something off. I don’t interrupt or ask questions and neither will you. Deal?” My heart careens and my palms sweat. Scary alarms blare in my head, warning me to not share any more, but I want to help him open up.
Hesitantly, he strips off his hoodie and drops it on the grass. “Okay, deal.”
35
DANIEL
“I don’t thinkyou’re socially awkward.”
“You met me at my worst, so I don’t think you have a clear judgment of who I am.” She folds her arms against her chest as if she were self-conscious. “But I’m done sharing; it’s your turn.”
It threw me off when she shared a tidbit about herself without me having to goad her or beg for a crumb of her life. But that’s not what continues to spike my anxiety, rising it to levels it hasn’t been in a while.
I don’t like talking about myself, especially talking about Adrian. Not because I don’t want to talk about my brother and all the good he did in his short life, but I become a mess. I struggle to come back from it, and usually it’ll take days before I feel like I’m not drowning.
