Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

ELIJAH

Spotting a shark's tooth half-covered by sand, I wash it off in the surf and hand it to Julien. In his open palm, the sun's sizzling rays glint off its glossy, dark surface, the black color caused by permineralization. A cool word I learned in my AP Environmental Science class in high school that I took in lieu of AP Chemistry. Marshall was in that class. No thank you.

"Good enough for the jar?" Julien asks.

During our first vacation together on Topsail, he gave me a large mason jar to store my beach finds. I fill it with shells of all shapes, beach glass, stones smoothed over time by the waves, sand dollars, and brightly colored coquinas. My favorite is a huge extinct giant white shark's tooth I stumbled across after a thunderstorm passed through. Those are the best times to look.

"It's a keeper," I reply and pocket it.

Hand in hand, we continue our stroll along the shoreline. The foamy edges of dissipating breakers roll over my bare toes before retreating into the ocean. It's a constant ebb and flow as the waves slowly creep up the shallow incline of the beach toward high tide.

"How are we on time?" I ask.

We'll need to head back to campus soon, so Julien won't be late to practice.

Lifting our joined hands, he checks his watch. "We'll need to get going in a half hour or so. You look hot."

I catch the smirk on his handsome face at the same time I do the hidden meaning, but it's too late. Gravity escapes me when I'm bodily lifted and carried into the crashing waves. The salt stings the sunburn on my neck that no amount of high SPF sunscreen could prevent. Julien calls me a human lobster. I don't tan like he and the guys do. An hour in the sun turns me into the equivalent of a Craisin.

When we get far enough out, I hook my legs around his waist, anchoring to him, and lean all the way back, letting the incoming swells rhythmically bob me up and down in the water.

Not being serious, I say, "We need a waterbed."

Julien braces my back as I float. "Hell no, but a California king would be good."

Shadows pass over my closed eyelids, probably a flock of gulls scoping the beach for easy pickings. I hope one doesn't decide to take a shit. I still refuse to eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches after a bird crapped all over mine when Dad and I were camping a few years ago. And for some bizarre reason, thinking about bird shit makes me think about April's phone call.

"I forgot to tell you. I'm not going to Durham on Sunday. April called to warn me that Beverly is going to be there. Told me not to come."

When he doesn't say anything, I engage my core and hinge upright. The gray of his irises reflects the greenish tint of the water, turning them a pale pastel tradewinds color.

"When did April call you?"

Wary of his tone, I carefully reply, "A couple of days ago."

His eyes narrow. "And you're just telling me this now?"

Sensing I'm in trouble but not completely certain, water sluices down my back when I shrug. "David said I should go anyw?—"

Dark-brown brows form a deep scowl. "You told David but forgot to tell me?"

Shit. I am in trouble.

I unhook my legs and drop them to the sandy bottom, bouncing on my toes as each swell passes. Raking my hair away from my face, I look toward the beach, then back at Julien.

"I honestly forgot," I lamely reply, not helping to dig myself out of the hole I unknowingly created.

My phone call with April happened to come up when I was at David's. We talked. I felt better. Shelved it away in that mental bookcase of things I prefer to forget. I didn't think about it again until just now.

"It's not a big deal," I state, hoping to smooth things over.

Julien hates my mother, probably more than he hates Marshall, and he really, really hates Marshall.

Julien stares at me for a beat.

"Let me ask you this? How did you feel when April said Beverly was coming and for you not to come?"

Angry that the expectation of her mere presence was fucking up my plans to see my stepsister.

"Pissed," I answer.

"Exactly. You were upset."

"Okay," I hedge when I fail to get whatever message he's trying to subliminally convey.

"And you went to David."

"No, I didn't. We were talking about this weekend, and I mentioned that I'd be in town after all. He had asked me if I wanted to…" I shut the hell up and don't finish that sentence.

I'm not stupid enough to tell him that David wanted to take me out to dinner as a thank you. Not now, anyway. Later.

Julien lowers into the water until all I can see is the top of his head. Popping back up, he shakes out his hair.

"Beverly is a hot button for you."

I slowly nod because she is. I've gotten very good at compartmentalizing things when it comes to her. I had to. In order to move on with my life, I had to lock away the child I used to be to become the man I want to be.

"Christ, Elijah. Do you not get it?"

"Not really."

He sighs, a hint of exasperation coming through. "I want to make you smile when you're sad. When you're struggling, I want to hold you and promise you that everything is going to be okay. I want to kiss away your tears and be the light that guides you when you're lost. I'm here for you. Always. And yet, you talk to David about the stuff that matters. Or Fallon. Or Jay. Not me. Why have you been shutting me out lately?"

Have I been doing that? I'm about to disagree, tell him that he's wrong, but I don't when I realize he's right.

"I'm sorry."

At the sound of distant shouts, Julien shields his eyes with the flat of his hand, looking to where Jayson and Ryder had been tossing a frisbee back and forth.

"Is that?" Like the clouds splitting open to reveal a magnificent blue sky, a smile blooms across his face.

He suddenly takes off, cutting through the water with purposeful strokes, heading straight for the blonde standing with Jayson and Ryder.

Liz.

I didn't know she was coming. Julien didn't say anything. Maybe the guys invited her.

Kicking my feet, I follow Julien at a more leisurely pace, pondering his words. I never intended to shut him out, but perhaps I haven't been as open as I should be. Deep down, I think I just don't want to disappoint him. I want to keep the negatives out of our relationship and only focus on the good. But that's its own illusion. A false nirvana. Like the proverbial ostrich sticking its head in the sand.

When I get to shore, I make a beeline for where we dropped our stuff, grab my thin hoodie out of my bag, and slip it over my head. The sand is warm beneath my bare feet as I approach the group. Obviously excited to see her, the guys talk over one another in fast succession, and I can tell from her stiff posture and wide eyes that she's overwhelmed by it.

I catch Liz's gaze, her eyes flickering briefly with a mixture of uncertainty, desperation, and something else I can't quite place. There's a vulnerability in her that draws me in, stirring a sense of empathy.

Julien reaches for me and pulls me to his side, his arm loosely draped around my waist.

"Look who found us."

"Hey, Liz," I say, hoping to put her at ease with a smile.

"Hey, Elijah." She returns my smile.

Liz was always beautiful. Her smile, her sweet personality, the way she could light up a room just by being in it. With everything that's happened to her, I hope she never loses those aspects of her personality. Without Liz, her love and support, Julien and I wouldn't be together, and it makes me ashamed of the jealousy I felt last year when Julien was grieving her. He wasn't the only one complicit in our almost breakup. We both screwed up and made mistakes.

"It's good to see you," I tell her.

She shifts her feet, digging her pink-painted toes into the sand. "After listening to y'all talk about the beach the other day, I decided to do some adventuring and see what all the fuss was about. Saw Ryder and Jayson when I got here, so thought I'd say hi."

"Did you finally get everything unpacked?" I ask, attempting to keep the conversation light.

"I did," she replies, her gaze drifting to Ryder when he asks, "Are we still on for Sunday?"

"What's happening Sunday?" Jayson asks.

"Taking her to the track."

Liz's smile turns blinding. "I can't wait. It sounds like a lot of fun."

Jay doesn't share her excitement. He pulls Ryder to one side and murmurs something we can't hear.

Ryder replies with, "It'll be fine."

"She has a head injury."

"Jesus, Jay, chill."

Liz transfers her attention to Ryder again, her eyes lingering on him for a moment longer than necessary before glancing away. Oh, shit. I know that look.

Julien clears his throat. "Classes start Monday. Excited?"

She slides her hands into the back pockets of her frayed jean shorts. "I am. You?"

"Not really. I don't want the summer to end."

The tension dissipates as we settle into easy conversation about classes and Julien's upcoming soccer match; however, it's how often Liz keeps looking at Ryder that piques my interest.

Checking his watch again, Julien gently bumps my hip, a subtle gesture that says to get going. "Lunch tomorrow?" he asks Liz.

Seemingly more relaxed, she replies, "I'd like that."

He leans in for a hug. "Good. I'll make your favorite."

"What's my favorite?" she asks.

"You'll find out tomorrow."

Gathering our stuff, Julien and I head to the beach access where we parked my car behind Jayson's truck.

"Did you see that?"

I don't have to tell him what that is. Julien knows what I'm referring to.

He glances over at his brother, his mouth set in a thin line of concern. "I did."