Prologue

Rory steppedonto the back porch and slid the screen door closed before scanning the crowd. She found Jay leaning against the railing, watching as he took a pull of his beer.

She brushed her fingers through her thick, mahogany hair and approached him, her stomach doing somersaults at the sight of the smile that curled up his left cheek as he looked out in the distance.

She slowed to a stop. "Hey, have you seen Melanie? I can't find her anywhere."

Jay finally glanced over at her, his expression sly and half-dazed from wherever he'd just pulled his thoughts from. "Nah, been a little distracted."

Rory raised an eyebrow in his direction and leaned against the wooden railing next to him, purposely brushing her forearm against his. "Oh yeah? With what?"

Jay ticked his head toward the lawn, motioning toward a group of girls talking animatedly in a circle, swaying on their feet as they took swigs from a plastic green cup.

Her stomach clenched at the sight of them. She hastily shifted her gaze in Jay's direction, noticing that he was back to watching them with a smirk, like he was on the prowl.

She sighed audibly. "Let me guess," she started. "The blonde one, tall, wearing a shift dress that was probably meant to be a tank top."

"It's working for her," Jay said, his voice thick and devious.

"Typical," she mumbled.

Jay turned, eyes wide. "Come again?"

Crap, she thought to herself. She must have said it louder than she intended, and now Jay was staring at her with that expression he always got when he was raring for a fight. His lips were pinched together in a tight line. The toffee color in his eyes completely disappeared as his pupils dilated, leaving them jet-black, almost onyx, as he stared straight at her.

Usually, when she saw Jay like this, she would try to brush it off with a joke, watching his pupils return to their normal size as he barked out a laugh. With the two of them, it was always teasing and joking and sword fighting with cotton candy–colored spoons at Scoops By The Sea, the ice cream shop they both worked at during their summers in Haverport.

But right now, she didn't have the energy to fake it. She was angry at him.

Rory squared her shoulders in his direction, facing him full-on, and crossed her arms. "You just have a type, that's all."

"Is that wrong?" he snipped at her.

"It's unoriginal," she bit back, cocking her hip.

Jay took the last pull of his beer, balancing the empty bottle on the railing without looking back at her. "What does that mean?"

"Your interests just fit the stereotype perfectly," she responded, the words flying out of her. She was two drinks in at this point, her filter completely gone. And she didn't care. "Tall, blonde, thin, typically in some kind of skimpy outfit that shows off a sizeable rack."

"Things you clearly don't have," he responded with an icy tone.

She froze.

"Finally, been looking for you guys everywhere."

Tyler, their friend and Scoops coworker, approached the two of them from behind, a plastic water bottle clutched in his hand. "Ry, have you had any water yet? Found this in the fridge, miraculously unopened."

She hardly registered what he'd said, her eyes still focused on Jay, who was now glaring at her.

Tyler slowed. "Yo…is everything good?"

"Apologize," Rory whispered.

"Ry, what's going on—"

"Apologize," she repeated. "You have no right commenting on my body."

"Yet you have every right to comment on someone else's?" Jay hissed back, a small speck of spit flying from his mouth as he pointed to the crowd of girls completely oblivious to the scene taking place on the porch. Not like it was anything interesting compared to the rowdy party around them, the blaring music echoing off the river beyond the house.

"I was just stating a fact," she said tightly.

"And I was too," Jay said, emphasizing the last word. "You're clearly just jealous because you look absolutely nothing like them."

"Hey, this is getting out of hand," Tyler said coolly, reaching his free hand to gently grab Rory's wrist, his face sternly on Jay. "You've both been drinking—you're saying things you don't mean."

"Oh, I mean it," Jay said.

"I hate you," Rory said curtly.

"Only because I speak the truth."

Without thinking, she jerked her hand away from Tyler's grasp and lunged at Jay, slapping the same left cheek that held a coy smirk just minutes before.

She was seething—the ringing in her ears overpowering whatever Jay was now screaming at her, muffled only by Tyler, who now stood between the two of them. He barked something in Jay's direction before snatching her hand and pulling hard. Her vision was blurry from the tears pooling in her eyes as he led her down the porch steps and around the house.

Tyler wrapped an arm tightly around her waist and lifted her up into the passenger seat of his Jeep, slamming the car door next to her. He hopped in on the other side, shoving the water bottle right at Rory's chest. "Drink that. Now."

She silently obeyed as Tyler switched on the ignition and pulled out at lightning speed, climbing back up the road they came from just an hour earlier. She remained silent as he turned onto Main Street and drove past Scoops and Grampy's and sleepy late-night moviegoers stepping out of Haverport Cinemas.

Moments later, they rolled through the main entrance of the Misty Bay beach community. Tyler turned the car down Chestnut Road, then pulled into the driveway of his house and killed the ignition. Rory didn't say anything as she twisted the empty water bottle in her hand, the popping and cracking sound of the plastic satisfying her need to squeeze and break something.

"He didn't mean it," Tyler said as if reading her mind.

"Yes, he did," she whispered. "And he's right; I'm nothing like them."

Tyler twisted in his seat, now facing her. "So what? Why do you care so much? What's the—"

But then he stopped. She watched as understanding shifted his expression. His eyebrows furrowed with this new truth.

"He's an idiot," Tyler said, loud enough that she was almost worried they would wake his parents, his voice carrying from the open car window to his house in front of him. Her own was right next door, but it wasn't like it mattered much for her—her mom probably wasn't even home. "Why do you bother with him? He's an asshole to literally everyone."

"Not always to me," she responded, her words coming out short and tight. She was trying not to cry in front of him again.

"And what? He's nice to you five percent of the time, and it's worth the rest of the time he's a complete shithead? You don't deserve that, Ry."

Her nostrils flared. "Why do you care so much about what I deserve, huh?"

Tyler rubbed his hand over his face and let out an exhale before continuing. "Because…because I do."

She huffed. "You don't see me chewing into you about the girls you like."

Tyler lifted his arms in frustration. "What girls? There are none!"

"Yeah right," Rory said, opening the passenger door. "Do yourself a favor and stay out of my personal life, 'kay? Because you're not invited."

"Oh, so the whole ‘best friends forever' thing was all bullshit to you then?"

Rory threw the bottle at him, but the action had no effect on Tyler as it lightly bounced off his broad shoulder.

"Best friends are supportive," Rory spewed. "And right now, you're just being a dick."