Chapter 10

ten

JUST GIRLY THINGS

D ays turn into weeks and before I know it, it’s the last day of the first semester.

I slam my locker door shut after my last final and jump when Becca is standing there with a giant grin on her face. She shrieks, wrapping her arms around me and jumping in place. “It’s winter break!”

Laughter spills from me freely as I wrap my arms around her waist and we walk down the hall together. Things had been weird between us but all of that is in the past now. She felt awful about how awkward and uncomfortable the date with Jeremy was, and she blew up on Cam when I told her some of the creepy lines he had said to me.

Ever since then, things have gone pretty much back to normal. Her and Cam are still inseparable, but neither one of them brings up Jeremy anymore. He also hasn’t tried to reach out to me again. He was blowing up my phone for a few days after that disastrous date, but Becca must have put a stop to it.

“We’re going out tonight, right?” she asks, her excitement to have a few weeks off from school infecting my own.

My family always goes on a family vacation, but we don’t leave for two days, meaning tonight I am totally free for some much needed best friend time. “Of course we are,” I agree. I’m sure she’s going to want to go out and do something crazy, but after how much studying I had to do to push through these finals, I’m ready to cut loose a little. I’ve earned it.

“Oh, we’re going to have so much fun! It’s been too long since we had a girls’ night out.” We wave to a couple of people in the hallway as we exit the building and head to the student parking lot.

“Girls’ night? Cam isn’t coming?”

She shakes her head, a growing smile on her face. “Girls only,” she declares. “Well, he might be our dd. But we need some girl time, don’t you think?”

Cam never bothers me. Sure, sometimes they get a little too physical in my presence, but for the most part it’s okay. She never ignores me for him or anything like that. But a girls’ night really does sound like a good time. It’s been too long since we’ve done anything like that.

“Megan and Chelsea are also going to go out with us,” she continues. “With the three of us, there’s no way we won’t get your V-card snatched up.”

My face heats as I hiss at her to lower her voice. “You are far too invested in my sex life,” I tell her, shaking my head, but she’s unfazed, her brown eyes glimmering with amusement.

“What are best friends for?”

“I don’t think you’re meant to be a pimp,” I quip, making her scoff. Though I struggle to meet her eyes.

She doesn’t respond to it, forging ahead with her plans. “The girls and I will meet at your place at seven to get ready? I found a new bar that doesn’t check IDs.”

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I slip it out to see Xander’s nickname on the screen and I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. At first, I questioned why he was texting me every morning just to talk, but I liked it too much to object to it. After all, friends text each other, right?

Becca huffs at my side. “Is that your new bestie again?”

I roll my eyes at her dramatics. I still haven’t told her about Xander or my crush. I like it being my little secret. She wouldn’t understand. She’d either push me to do something about it, or to forget about him completely. And I don’t want to do either of those things. I like how things are now.

“It’s the group chat with my brothers and their friends,” I lie. “Up to their usual antics.”

Some of her attitude drops as she laughs. “They are always being ridiculous,” she agrees. “So seven?”

“Perfect,” I answer, giving her a quick hug. “I’ll see you then.”

She winks at me before turning toward her car. “I’m picking out your outfit tonight,” she calls over her shoulder in a promise that sounds a whole lot more like a threat.

“Whatever you say, fairy godmother,” I tease, heading to the safety of my own car to open Xander’s message.

It’s a picture of him laying shirtless in bed, a satisfied smirk tugging the corner of his lips up as he looks down at the little black ball of fur curled up on his chest, otherwise known as Karma. Thank god I didn’t open this in front of Becca because my face is heating over how good he looks. Because of course I can count every single one of his well-defined abs. He had to be flexing to take this, I just know it. Asshole.

Hot asshole.

I draw my eyes away from how stupidly hot he looks and finally notice the message he sent with it.

Xander: Even demons can’t resist me foreve r

Arrogant asshole.

Emery: Are you sure you should be proud about attracting demons?

We don’t send each other pictures very often, but maybe I’ll send him a selfie of me after Becca gets me all dressed up. Would it make him sweat the way he just made me? I’m sure I can figure out an excuse, something…friendly to say. Maybe not a selfie, but I’ll figure it out.

I have another message from Colby asking what I’m packing for the trip and another wave of excitement grips me. It’s the first time she’s ever come with us, but I’m so excited to have another girl. I’m already planning all the ways we can ruffle Zac and Wilder’s feathers while we’re there. Mostly by claiming her as mine now.

I send her a copy of the list I have in my notes for when I pack tomorrow, along with some pictures of the outfits I know I’ll be wearing so she can get an idea for the vibe we always have at the beach house so she doesn’t stress. We are all about casual and relaxed when we’re on the island. I plan on spending barely a moment out of my bathing suit once we’re there.

The temperatures have dipped over the last few weeks and I already miss the warmth of the sun and the heat on my skin. We haven’t had any snow yet, but it’s only a matter of time. Our mountains are covered in white and soon enough so will our streets.

My phone begins to ring as I pull out of the parking lot and turn towards home. I hit the answer button on my steering wheel with a smile. “How did I know it was you? ”

“How did I know you would be driving?” Xander asks in his deep, rumbling voice that hits me all the way to my core.

“Because I leave school at exactly the same time every day?” I taunt. “You really couldn’t wait a couple more minutes for me to get home and respond to you?”

He huffs and a disgruntled meow announces Karma’s presence and her displeasure of being moved. “All the guys are at training and I’m bored.”

“Where’s Torryn?”

Xander settled right into life at Westbrook like I knew he would. He’s always been like that, so confident in himself and able to find his place wherever he goes. I’ve always admired that about him, maybe envied it as well. Even four years later this town still doesn’t feel like home. I have Becca, and sure the other girls are sweet enough, but they’ve always felt more like Becca’s friends than mine. Like they keep their guards up around me and only accept me because Becca did first.

There are a couple people from the newspaper I get along well enough with, but not like what Xander and my brothers have found. They’re all people I know I’ll hug at graduation, maybe text for a few months after we go our separate ways, but soon enough I’ll only ever think of them when I see them on social media. By this time next year I won’t talk to most of the people I see on a daily basis.

It makes me sad I never found my people here, but almost desperate to find out about my early application cause it feels just out of my reach at Westbrook. Like I could be a part of what they’re all building.

“She’s tutoring,” Xander answers, still having her schedule memorized. “Isla went to the library with her to study for finals.”

I pull into our driveway and roll up my windows to avoid the dirt from the gravel getting on the inside of my car. “And you? Why don’t you study?”

“The perks of doing everything all online, brat,” he teases. “I am free and clear, dreaming about warm sand and the waves that are calling my name.” My phone beeps as I put my car in park and gather my stuff to go in the house. I roll my eyes but accept his Facetime request as I walk into the house.

“Your dad home yet?”

I shake my head. “Sometime tomorrow,” I answer. He’s always had to travel a lot for his job, so it’s not like I’m not accustomed to being alone but the pout on Xander’s face is enough to make me laugh. “You’d think you’d be used to this by now.”

He sits up and I can’t help the way my eyes dip to check out his broad chest and well defined muscles. I have to swallow and look away quickly before I get caught ogling. Thankfully, he doesn’t notice. “I didn’t realize how often you’re alone in that house,” he grumbles.

I wave him off, still not able to look directly at the screen. I’d love to be desensitized to how attractive Xander is, but it’s like ever since I first noticed, I can’t stop noticing now. It’s slowly driving me insane in the very sweetest way possible.

“Tate was here last night, Zac the night before,” I explain. Both of my brothers always make an effort to stay here on weeks where my dad is gone for longer than a night or two.

He stretches his hands above his head and I bite my lip watching the way all his muscles go taut. I swear he has to be doing this on purpose. “Fine,” he sighs as he relaxes, falling back into his bed. “I’ll let it go. How did the calculus final go?”

I make it to my bedroom, dumping my backpack and all the stuff I cleared out of my locker on the chair in front of my desk. I’ll clean it later, crashing into bed instead and falling into conversation with Xander about my last final today.

He makes me laugh as he tells me stories about him and Tate that I had never heard before. And he makes me smile and my stomach do somersaults every time he proves how much he listens to me when I talk. How much he cares about the things I have to say. Time slips away faster than it has a right too when I’m talking to him like this.

My stomach growls and he grins when he hears it, but doesn’t call me out on it as I finally roll out of bed. I haven’t gotten any of the things I was supposed to get done when I got home, preferring to just listen to him talk.

“You’re bad for my productivity, Alexander Channing.”

He drops his mouth open in mock offense. “I’ve done nothing.”

“That’s the problem,” I grumble. “Neither have I.”

He waves me off as I pull leftover pasta out of the fridge and warm it up in the microwave. “You have plenty of time to pack, stop being a worry wart.”

“I’m going out tonight and we have the game tomorrow night,” I point out.

Xander sits up straight, holding the phone closer to his face. “You’re going out tonight? With who? Where?”

I arch a brow at him while I pull my pasta out of the microwave and he glares at it when he sees it. “Oh lord, you’re carb loading so you can drink more and not get sick.”

“What?” I ask in amused disbelief. “I’m eating pasta because I had pasta in the fridge, freak.”

He looks at his chest, pretending to pick something off it like he didn’t just totally overreact. “So where are we going?”

“I’m going out with Becca, and the where is none of your business,” I say around a mouthful of food.

“Thought we were friends,” he whines.

I scoff. “And let you show up with my brothers? Not in a million years. ”

He flips me off. “We haven’t done that in ages.”

Because I haven’t given them a reason to, but I won’t say that aloud. The last thing I want to do is call attention to the lack of a dating life I have when I finally have the freedom to have one. It’ll only beg the question I can never answer honestly.

A door opens and slams shut, followed by raised voices from his end of the phone. “The guys home?” I ask and he nods, getting out of bed. “I’ll let you go,” I say, getting ready to hang up. I still need to shower and clean my room up before the girls get here.

“You’ll text me, right?” he asks, hesitating to hang up.

“Of course,” I agree with a sigh. “I might be slow responding once the girls get here.”

He shakes his head. “Nah, don’t worry about that, Em. Have fun tonight. Just make sure to text me when you’re back home safely. Deal?”

“Deal,” I promise and he hangs up just as his bedroom door flies open and I see a large body diving on top of him while he curses out Beau.

My phone hits the counter with a clatter as I drop it and focus on eating my pasta, picking through the mail I picked up. Another day, still no letter about early applications. I sigh, tossing everything down. It would have been fun to have something to celebrate tonight.

Drinking isn’t something I’ve done often. The one time I have actually been drunk, I made stupid decisions. Haven’t really been interested in getting wasted again since. But today was the last day of our last first semester of high school.

Only one more set of finals between us and the finish line now.

One last winter break.

The whole reason I was upset with my brothers was about them robbing me of these high school experiences. And something about tonight feels like the night to enjoy the freedom I gained.

“Stop moving,” Becca snaps as the curling wand brushes against the nape of my neck again.

“Then stop burning me,” I cry back. She’s already been at this for forty minutes and I would have been done by now if she would have let me do my own hair. But no. What Becca meant by a girls’ night was actually playing with a life-sized Brarbie, except that Barbie is me.

She finally steps back, brushing her fingers through the curls to separate them and have them lay the way she wants them too. “Okay, perfect,” she beams. “Now, look.”

I open my eyes and turn to the mirror, thankful hair was the last thing we chose to do because my patience fled me over an hour ago. My reflection stares back at me, and I have to admit she absolutely killed the look. Becca knows me well enough to know how I like to do my makeup and she executed it perfectly, if a little darker than what I would wear on a normal day to school.

She chose a lighter pink blush but was more heavy handed with it, giving my cheekbones a lift but a more exaggerated innocent look rather than the natural look I normally go for. She emphasized my round eyes to make them look even more doe-eyed. And somehow my lips look bigger, the color not a true red, but something deeper that makes them look like I’ve been biting them. My hair falls around my shoulders in messy waves rather than perfect curls.

“What do you think?” she asks.

I smile, the changes she made really do all come together for a perfect going out look without making me feel like a different person. “You killed it.”

She squeals, brushing her fingers through my hair again. “I wanted you to have that perfect just fucked looked.”

I snort at her description, but I can’t say she’s wrong. Megan and Chelsea are quick to agree with her assessment. “We are so getting you laid tonight,” Chelsea adds.

Becca pointedly looks away from me so she doesn’t catch my death glare. She already knows how I feel about it, but it hasn’t stopped her or the others. I almost wish my brothers were coming tonight. At the very least, Torryn, Isla, and Colby. I know I would have a blast with them without having to worry about how many boys’ numbers I got. But that’s all the three of them seem to want to talk about. Setting challenges for me, giving me tips on how to draw guys’ attention.

The only guy’s attention I want won’t be there tonight.

All that’s left to do now is to get dressed, but as Becca made me swear to let her have control tonight, I haven’t made any plans for what I could wear.

Megan and Chelsea got dressed while Becca was finishing my hair. Megan is in a dark blue jean set with a top that almost looks like a bikini, wide legged jeans that hang off her narrow hips and a cropped jacket to complete the look. She looks better than I’ve ever looked in my life, but casual next to Chelsea in her red dress that has slits to her hip bones on both sides. She looks ready for a night out somewhere far more exciting than our little town. Becca is dressed somewhere in the middle of both them, wearing all black which isn’t her usual look. But the black leather skirt and lace corset top looks good on her.

“Alright, Becca. What outfit are you thinking? ”

I would be more nervous, but I know I don’t own anything even close to the outfits they’re all wearing.

She gives me a guilty smile and my confidence is suddenly nowhere to be found. “I may have bought you an outfit.”

“Oh lord, what did you do?”

She pulls out another outfit from her bag and it looks like a bunch of white lace. She holds up the skirt for me to see and my mouth parts open in disbelief. It's a white lace mini skirt with a slit so wide in the middle of the thigh it can barely be called a slit and more like a cut out.

“My whole vagina is going to fall out of that thing,” I argue. There’s no way she’s going to get me in that thing. Absolutely no way.

She drops it in her lap, putting her hands up to placate me. “Okay, okay, I hear you. But look how cute the top would be with it.” The top she holds up is the same white lace material but even less of it somehow. It has spaghetti straps and a tie in the center between my breasts before flaring open to show most of my midriff in a cut that reminds me of butterfly wings.

“So vagina and tits out,” I say dryly. It is very cute, I’ll give Becca that. But I do not have the confidence for an outfit that shows us off so much. I’d be scared to move all night.

“That’s one way to get laid,” Megan jokes and I can’t help but laugh with her. But I still refuse.

Becca must read my answer in my face because she narrows her eyes on my face. I cross my arms in front of my chest and get ready to stand my ground about this. It’s not like the three of them can forcibly put me into the outfit.

“Just the top?” she attempts.

I consider it before agreeing, eyeing the top she is still holding up against her body and comparing it to the other outfits of the girls. “With jeans?” I push, but I know she’s not going to go for it. She stays silent and I can see her filing through her knowledge of my wardrobe, trying to find a better option. I huff a sigh. “My jean skirt?”

“Yes!” she immediately concedes.

It feels like a fair enough compromise so I don't argue any further. The skirt at least covers my entire butt and vagina. I won’t be having to tug it down every few seconds to keep from mooning innocent bystanders. I’m pretty sure I have some cute little boots to wear with it too. It’s a shame Colby isn’t here for me to borrow a pair of her boots. She’s got all the cutest pairs.

Becca digs through my underwear drawer because there are no lines between best friends and tosses me the skimpiest, barely there underwear I own.

“I hope you waxed,” she laughs and I roll my eyes, not bothering to give her an answer.

I do have a weakness for cute underwear and I own probably too many, but I would never wear the g-string with a skirt. Preferring a little more coverage when it’s really the only thing between my vagina and the rest of the world. But it’s a fight not worth having since no one else is going to be aware of what’s under the skirt.

I get dressed quickly, and don’t even mess up my hair since the shirt ties in the front and doesn’t have to go over my head.

We spend longer than probably necessary taking pictures, opening a bottle of tequila while we do. The girls may tease me about hauling my camera around everywhere I go, but I am always the official photographer for anything we do. Each girl takes a turn until I snap several photos that show off their outfits, makeup, and overall vibe that will look amazing when they post them.

As much as I adore being behind the lens, it’s not my favorite to be in front of it. But we do take a few photos as a group and I hesitate trying to figure out the best way to send one to Xander. I shouldn’t push that invisible boundary between us, but who wants to be a good girl all the time? I just can’t come off too strong, but it would be a waste to look this good and him not see it.

I could post something on my social media. Is it wrong to want to post something solely for him though?

Why not both?

The shot I took with Megan warms me, giving me the courage to take a quick selfie and send it to him before I have a chance to doubt it. It’s slightly blurry, one eye closed in a wink, my tongue sticking out, and showing a hint of outfit. Nothing about it screams asking for attention or any kind of expectation. It could be easily written off as a picture you send to a friend.

Probably.

I type out a message to follow it real quick and then close out of our message thread so I don’t dwell on it. We climb into Becca’s car, who hasn’t had anything to drink yet. During the car ride over, I edit a few of the pictures we took, one group shot of us all laughing, Megan tilting the bottle of tequila to my lips–that one is going on close friends only, where my brothers and dad won’t be able to see it–a group selfie, and one Megan took of me when I wasn’t looking. I post all three to my stories, and it may be mostly because I’m hoping Xander watches them and realizes I’m no longer the little girl he once knew.

Would it change anything between us?

Probably not, but a girl can’t help but be at least a little bit delusional when it comes to her crush. It’s our right after all.

I mean, is it even a girls’ night if you’re not posting for all of social media to see when you’re really only hoping that one person views it?

I don’t think so.