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“I, uh…” I don’t know how to finish that sentence, though. So, I just turn my back on them and zip my fly, fumble to do up my belt as fast as possible, then lean down and peer into the back seat of my car. Sure enough, my hoodie is there, my T-shirt bunched up inside it like I whipped them both off in a hurry. I open the back door, grab the hoodie and pull it on, while behind me I hear Dale apologizing to their friends.
And the whole time, I’m wracking my brain, trying to remember who I was with tonight. What we were doing.
Although, yeah, it’s pretty damn obvious what we were doing.
Shit.
I hate this.
I. Hate. It.
And I’m so goddamn sick of dealing with these fucking memory blackouts. I want so badly to just jump back in the Jeep and take off. Get the hell away from this awkward situation. And my parents and the blowout I know will be happening as soon as their friends leave.
Of course, I don’t though. I turn and face them instead, feeling like the biggest douchebag on the planet. Like the total man-whore I am, honestly. Not exactly something I wanted to advertise to my parents.
In front of their gathering of friends.
In my damn driveway.
I rub the back of my neck as I make my way over, not meeting either of my parents’ gazes. I extend my hand to the guy closest to me. “Hey. I’m Seb. Good to meet you.”
The guy looks down at my hand and hesitates for a second. And I cringe inwardly, because yeah, I get it. Of course he’s not thrilled to shake my hand when it’s pretty obvious what I just finished doing.
He does take it, though. He introduces himself and then his wife. I shake the other couple’s hands, and then excuse myself, telling them I have homework I need to finish.
Not a lie. I always have homework I need to finish. I’m not saying I usually do it—but it’s still not a lie.
“Wait for us in the kitchen, Seb,” Dale says, just as I’m turning my back. “We need to have a talk.”
And it kills me to hear the disappointment in his voice. And I mean, yeah, I disappoint them a lot with all the stunts I pull; the trouble I get into at school and stuff. But never anything like this. And not in front of their friends; looking like the kind of guy who has no morals at all. Who doesn’t even bother to put his shirt back on, or do up his pants for chrissakes, after coming home from a quickie in some parking lot or wherever the hell I just came from.
I’ve been embarrassed about my behavior before, but never ashamed. Tonight, I am so ashamed, I can’t even find it in myself to make a joke about it.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Caroline
I’mstillonahigh from my outing last night with Sebastian, feeling ridiculously euphoric about going out with someone who I think might actually consider me a friend. And even sort of “hanging out” with some other people, too (because, yes, I am qualifying that brief encounter with the girls on the boardwalk as a hangout). And I didn’t make a complete fool of myself, I don’t think. When I texted Sebastian last night, he said he had fun. I’m taking that as a sign that I wasn’t a complete loser.
Still, there is a voice in the back of my head telling me I’m a fool for suddenly buying into the kinds of things I’ve claimed for years are shallow and juvenile—doing a one-eighty just because I’ve suddenly been granted access. Having one fun night, and making one friend, doesn’t mean everything else is going to be any different. Or that he isn’t going to turn on me at some point, too.
It’s funny, though; my brain can warn me of all this, but my heart is still stuck at that table at Scoopies, shoveling nachos in my mouth, debating the scariest amusement park rides, and laughing about weird marshmallow facts.
I’m a little nervous about seeing him at school today, even though I’m pretty confident he won’t treat me any differently. He never did last week. I am definitely nervous about how people are going to react to me being in that Instagram photo Lisa took on the boardwalk, since I’m pretty sure I only managed to hide half of my face. I’m fully prepared for people to make fun of me. Or make condescending comments, at least. Okay, not fully prepared—but definitely expecting it.
In the end, I’m mostly saved by news that came out last night about this guy who was kidnapped years ago as a kid, who was recently found and is coming back to live with his family here in Sandy Haven next month. It’s pretty much all people are talking about; everybody flipping out because he’s going to be coming to school at SH Prep. So, the random appearance of Fish Girl in someone’s Insta selfie barely registers on anyone’s radar.
I do get a few snarky comments about it. But maybe only four, and they’re only what I would label a Category Two on the “hurt and humiliation” scale. And when I cross paths with the girls from the boardwalk, only one of them ignores me. But… one of them says hi to me in calculus. And Lisa actually calls out “never go to space without your bag of marshmallows!” when she passes me in the hallway with a bunch of her friends. I’m so stunned I barely stumble out a friendly one-sentence response.
Sebastian seems genuinely excited to see me in science. He sits at that same table in front of mine and turns around a couple of times before the bell rings to talk with me in between conversations with the usual crowd hanging out at his table.
It’s weird. When Sebastian’s talking to me, I’m more excited about the fact that he seems to see me as a friend now, than stressed about people’s reaction to him conversing with me. Being invisible doesn’t seem as important when I feel noticed in a positive way. Even if it’s just by one person.
I like the way Sebastian’s attention makes me feel.
After class, Scarlett Thiels stays behind and approaches me as I’m zipping up my backpack. I knew today was too easy to be my life.
I brace myself for an onslaught, glancing around to see if there are any others with her. But she’s alone.
