I straddled it, shoved off, and let the wheels take me away from marbled columns and perfect teeth and boys with biting mouths and eyes that lingered too long.
I survived.
Barely.
By the time I got home, I was out of my uniform in under thirty seconds.
It was still hot—early September, but Rhode Island was holding onto summer like a grudge. I pulled on a pair of frayed denim shorts and a plain white T-shirt, tied up at the waist. Sandals. No makeup. Just salty breeze and skin still pink from the sun.
I didn’t tell Aunt Susan where I was going. She knew the look—needed air, needed the ocean, neededaway.
I’d texted Shani to meet me at the cove.
She didn’t reply, but I didn’t think twice. I needed to breathe. Needed to stop replaying Leo’s words on a loop in my head like some cursed track.
You’re not really my type.
Whatever.
The path to the beach was familiar now. Down the cracked sidewalk, past the cottage with the tomato vines, across the wooden footbridge that creaked with every step.
The sand welcomed me like it always did—warm, grainy, familiar.
What didn’t?
The volleyball net.
The shirtless boys.
The high-pitched laughter.
Theyachtanchored offshore, shining like some trust fund trophy.
I paused at the edge of the dunes, sunglasses already sliding down my nose. Music thumped low from a portable speaker. Sparkling water bottles in one cooler, White Claws in another. Someone was taking slow-mo video of Leo spiking a volleyball like it was a GQ shoot.
Of course.
Of course it washim.
Leo Holt.
Tristan.
Xavier.
The whole damn varsity wolfpack.
And their accessories.
Girls draped in triangle bikinis and fake lashes. Glossy mouths and blinding veneers. One wore a pearl anklet that probably cost more than my aunt’s car. They were sprawled across towels and driftwood like they belonged to the sand itself.
And then they saw me.
A few of them looked over, thenreallylooked. One leaned toward another and whispered. Laughter followed. Sharp and practiced.
“Someone get lost?” one of them asked, loud enough for me to hear.
The brunette in the pink halter smiled without warmth. “I didn’t realize townie trash was allowed this close to the yacht.”
