AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Jesus, Dec.” I mutter. “You’re an asshole.”
I push away from the rock I’ve been leaning against, to go see what she wants, so she doesn’t have to deal with the rest of these jerks. Her expression says she’s realizing what an epic mistake it was to approach our tribe of numb-skulls. And regardless of her reason for approaching us in the first place, she’s definitely regretting it now. Possibly contemplating making a run for it.
“Don’t be a dick.” I shake my head at Declan, brushing sand off my hands as I pass him. Now I’m the one Fish Girl is eyeing, like I’m some kind of feral predator. I reach her and she takes a step back. Up close, she looks a little older. Not like the doe-eyed Christmas-card kid I figured earlier. I was right about the innocent eyes and cute nose, though.
“Go get ’em, cowboy!” Scarr calls over to me and I flip her off, my back still turned.
I don’t need to be facing her for her to know the gesture is meant for her.
Fish Girl shrugs a backpack off her shoulder, her gaze darting past my right ear over to my douchebag friends a few feet away, who are still making lewd jokes and being first rate asshats. Her eyes lose a bit of that wide-eyed innocence with the scowl she shoots in their direction.
She looks back at me. “I have your phone,” she says, in a voice that is a lot less nervous than I expected it to be. And she pulls my iPhone out of the front pouch of her backpack.
My eyes narrow in confusion.
“What the…—How do you have my phone?” I am legitimately baffled. Not that this is an unusual feeling for me these days. But still, this situation is hella weird.
“You left it on my roof,” she explains, her voice soft but unwavering. And I keep staring back at her blankly.
And then it comes to me. The Britney McLaren screwup…
“Wait—you’re the girl with the jellyfish jammies!”
She nods, her expression weirdly neutral.
Except… maybe not completely. There’s an ember of some reaction flickering along the edges of her hazel eyes.
“Yup. That’s me,” she says, almost defensively, like she’s expecting me to say something more.
“Cool,” I grin. “Well, thanks for returning it. I thought I lost it.”
Technically, I guess I did.
“I tried to bring it to you at school today, but you weren’t there, so…” Her voice trails off.
“Yeah. Day One of a four-day suspension,” I explain, rolling my eyes.
Her expression tells me she already knew this and is not impressed. I’m pretty confident this is not the kind of girl who associates with students who get suspended. Or who lose their phones on random people’s rooftops.
Taking the phone from her outstretched hand, it doesn’t escape my attention how fast she pulls away when her thumb brushes against mine. Like she’s worried I might electrocute her with my touch or something.
I mean, I’m good with my hands… but notthatgood.
I glance at the screen, then slip the phone into my back pocket. When I look up, she’s already turned away, fast-walking like a blue-hair who just found out she got first pick from the prize table on bingo night.
“Hey!” I call, so I can thank her again, but she doesn’t even turn around. She’s already at the foot of the steps leading up the bank, through the trees. A few of the leaves have already started turning yellow, which means it’ll be just a few weeks ’til the whole forest along the stretch of road from here to the point becomes a canopy of blinding yellows and fiery oranges.
I watch as Fish Girl disappears up the bank, then I turn and make my way back to Scarr and the guys. At least now I won’t have to bring up the matter of a lost iPhone with my folks. Fish Girl may have just saved me from being put on full-on house arrest for every weekend from now until Christmas. Because full disclosure here: I’ve lost a total of three iPhones in the past seven months.
Yeah, I know. It’s a problem.
“We’re heading to Hooks!” Trevor calls, lobbing a wad of wet seaweed at me. “You in?”
The Rusty Hook Diner (Hooks to us locals) is a popular hangout spot for SH Prep kids and occasionally the Ocean Heights crew, too. It’s on Main street, but a little ways past the fancier restaurants and coffee shops and stuff. It’s the kind of place where you can go in wearing wet board shorts after a day at the beach, track sand in with your flip flops and not feel bad about it. Hell, sometimes Xave wanders in bare foot in the summer.
The seaweed Trevor threw lands with asplat!against my chest, then falls limply to the ground.
“You guys in or what?” Trev asks again.
