Chapter 28

CHAPTER28

TATE

We end up in San Clemente and walk around downtown for a little bit, peeking into the cute shops before we stop at a restaurant and have lunch. Both Scarlett and I are ravenous, ordering a bunch of seafood and sharing it between ourselves. Eventually we waddle out of the restaurant almost two hours later, the both of us groaning over how full we are.

It’s . . . fun, spending time with Scarlett. Especially after being so caught up in my own damn head the last few days. I know it hasn’t been fun for her. I’m stuck in that damn makeshift office pretending to get work done while she’s hanging out by the pool, bored out of her mind. Tiptoeing around the brooding security guys, who stand around and scowl wherever they are.

It sucks. The vibe at the house was bringing me down, even though I was mostly responsible for it.

A quick getaway was just what I needed.

After lunch we go to a nearby surf shop, and I buy a couple of large towels before we head to the beach. The sun is out and the wind is strong, bringing with it a slightly chilly ocean breeze. We try to lay both towels on the sand, but the wind keeps making one of them slip out of our fingers. We end up sitting close together on the one towel, Scarlett taking the other and draping it over herself like a throw blanket while we stare at the water, watching the waves roll in.

People are everywhere. Small families sitting on the beach, children digging up sand with their bright plastic shovel-and-pail sets. Plenty of laughter fills the air. The occasional frustrated cry from a child. Lots of couples out walking their dogs. An older gentleman with a shock of white hair and a bright-red sun visor sitting jauntily on his head approaches us with a metal detector, his movements slow and methodical.

“You ever find anything?” I ask the man as he scans the sand surrounding us.

“You’d be surprised by all the things I find,” he says rather cryptically, walking away.

Scarlett sends me a look once the man is out of earshot. “He must have a lot of patience.”

“If he’s helping people look for their valuables, I think he’s doing a great service,” I say softly, my gaze stuck on the old man as he walks farther and farther away from us.

Until I can’t see him at all.

We’re quiet for a long time, lost in our thoughts, and for the first time in days, I don’t mind being in my head. All the clutter and garbage and Roger’s insistent words leave my brain, clearing it completely, and I take a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

“This is nice,” Scarlett murmurs, her focus still on the ocean.

“Yeah, it is. I can’t remember the last time I felt like this.”

She turns toward me. “Like what?”

“Like my normal self,” I admit.

“I know how long it’s been. Since the day before my party,” she says.

She’s right. Everything turned upside down the moment that kiss was caught on camera. I haven’t been the same since.

“Do you miss it?” When I give her a confused look, she explains, “Feeling like your normal self.”

“Sort of. I don’t know. Things were pretty mundane in my life before this all blew up. I remember thinking a couple of months ago, ‘Is this it? Is this all I’ve got to give? Selling birthday greetings online for fifty bucks a pop?’” I kick off my slides and nudge my toes into the cold, wet sand. “I didn’t know what to do. I considered going to college, but for what? I didn’t like school. We were all still in high school when the band was first put together, but they had us doing classes after we finished our recording sessions, and I graduated when I was barely seventeen.”

“Do you regret missing out on a normal high school experience?”

“Hell no.” I make a face, thinking of my past high school life. “I wasn’t anybody special in high school. Definitely not a part of the popular crowd, so when I got this chance to actually be somebody, I took full advantage of it.”

I wasn’t a loser in high school, but I definitely wasn’t popular either, and deep down, I always wanted to be. The idea of fame, of being in the entertainment industry, whether through acting or singing or whatever, appealed to me ever since I was a little kid.

“I didn’t like high school either,” she admits, tracing her fingers through the sand. The hem of her dress keeps fluttering in the wind, exposing her slender thighs, and I remember how I grabbed her there earlier. As if I own her. She didn’t push me away either. “I was so glad when I finally graduated. I just wanted out of there.”

“Wasn’t that long ago,” I point out.

“A couple of months.” She shrugs, her gaze stuck on the sea. “Feels like a lifetime ago.”

I totally agree.

“Were you planning on going to college, or did I ruin that?” Pretty sure I didn’t ruin any college plans. I remember her telling me about the gap year she was planning on taking.

“You definitely didn’t ruin anything. I just—I don’t think I knew what I wanted to do. I still don’t. I sort of had the gap year planned with Rachel, but we hadn’t made any real concrete plans, you know what I mean? And my parents were insisting I go to college after I took that year off, but . . .” Her voice drifts and she wrinkles her nose. “I don’t know if I’ll go. That might not be for me.”

“What is for you then, Scarlett?” My tone is teasing, but I’m dead serious. I’d love to know what her future goals are.

I mean, she’s young. I get it. My future goals at eighteen went up in smoke. I blew them up with my shit behavior.

“I don’t know. Turn into a famous influencer and travel the world?” She shrugs. Giggles even, her cheeks turning pink. “That sounds ridiculous.”

“Not if it’s what you really want to do,” I say, nudging her shoulder with mine. “And nothing sounds ridiculous to me. I’m over here being given another chance, which just goes to show that anything is possible. Even if I do feel like I’m on the verge of fucking everything up.”

“You have a very self-defeating streak within you, Tate.” When I glance over at Scarlett, I find her already watching me, her brows lifted expectantly. “What? It’s true.”

“What exactly do you mean?” I readjust my feet, burrowing my toes deeper into the sand so I can’t even see them.

Kind of like how I bury my head in the sand sometimes and pretend I don’t see what’s really happening around me.

“You’ve been given this amazing opportunity to change your whole life for the better, to get a second chance, like you just said. You’re able to sing again and reach potentially millions of people with your words, and all you can do is stress about how much pressure this is and how you can’t come up with any lyrics for your songs.” She presses her lips together when she’s done, wincing when our gazes meet once again. “It’s true, Tate. Instead of looking at it like such a negative, you need to convince yourself this opportunity you have is a positive.”

What she’s saying is right, but it’s easier said than done.

“But how?” I stare out at the water once more, focusing on a fishing boat in the distance, watching as it bobs in the water. “I don’t think you understand the pressure I’m under, Scarlett.”

“I’m trying to. I can sort of relate to it.”

I glance over at her. “How?”

“I have to deal with my dad and mom’s fame day in and day out. And my dad wants me to be just like him, causing a scandal, or more like a big ruckus everywhere I go, and I’m not built like that.” She grabs a handful of sand and throws it aggressively, the sand scattering all over her feet. “I’ve lurked in the shadows of my parents and my family’s legacy my entire life. I finally get a chance to stand on my own two feet, and I’m still tied to someone. You.”

Guilt hits me like a sock to my stomach. “Is that such a bad thing?”

She shrugs. “It is what it is. And this is nothing against you. I understand what you’re doing and why you’re doing it. I just hate that I’m getting dragged along like I always do with someone else.”

I remain quiet, absorbing her words. She just wants to be her own person. Viewed for her own name and not her family’s. I get that. I do. I want to stand on my own two feet, instead of always being referred to as that drunk guy who used to sing with Five Car Pileup. I’m only known for the band, and I want to prove to people that I’m more than that. That I’m more than just a stupid teenager who made some dumbass mistakes on a public stage.

“I sound like a whiny baby,” she finally says, her voice quiet.

“No you don’t,” I immediately reassure her.

“And I made this all about me, when really this is about you.” She reaches out, her hand resting on my knee as she gives it a squeeze. I feel her touch to the depths of my soul—truthfully, the fucking depths of my balls. And I never want her to remove her hand from my leg again. “You can do it, Tate. You just need to believe in yourself.”

“It’s just really fucking hard sometimes, you know?” I admit, my voice low. I feel like I’m revealing a deep, dark secret, confessing my struggles. “But you’re right. I need to get over my shit and believe in myself.”

“I believe in you,” she says with an encouraging smile.

My heart cracks wide open for her. I don’t think anyone has ever said those actual words to me before.

I believe in you.

“I believe in you too.” I rest my hand over hers, skimming my thumb across her knuckles. “If you want to be a social media influencer and document your travels all over the world, you can fucking do it, Scar. Not like money is holding you back.”

“Yeah, well, my own mental state can hold me back sometimes.” She shakes her head. “But I need to let go of those negative thoughts just like you do and believe in myself too, right?”

“Right.”

We stare at each other, the sun casting golden beams of light across her face, and I lean in, giving in to my urges as usual, and brush her mouth with mine. She kisses me back, our lips clinging, parting.

A phone starts ringing.

“Damn it,” I mutter against her lips. “That’s my phone.”

Scarlett pulls away, flushing prettily. “Always interrupted.”

I glance at the screen, seeing it’s fucking Simon this time around, and I answer his call. “What’s up?”

“You left the house?” He sounds like an angry parent.

“I needed to clear my head.”

“Where are you now?”

“At the beach.”

“Well, you need to get back home and change. You’re going to a movie premiere tonight.”

“Tonight?” I sit up straighter, Scarlett’s hand falling away from my knee. “Like, tonight tonight?”

“Yes. I had some clothes sent over for you two to wear. Designer stuff on loan. You know the drill.” He yawns, like he’s bored. “Red carpet starts at eight, and movie kicks off at nine. I’ll have Steffi text you the details. Hope you’re not too far from the house.”

The line goes quiet, and I realize he ended the call, cursing under my breath when I note the time on my phone screen. “We need to get going.”

“Did I hear him correctly? We’re going to a movie premiere?”

“Yeah. Love the heads-up he gave us.”

I help Scarlett stand and shake off our towels before we fold them and put them in the giant straw bag she bought at the surf shop. We trudge our way up the beach toward the parking lot where the car awaits us, our steps slowed thanks to the heavy sand, and she doesn’t pull away when I grab hold of her hand.

Like we’re an actual couple.

“He said he had clothes sent to the house for us to wear tonight,” I tell her.

“I hope he sent options.” The worried look on her face says it all. She doesn’t trust Roger’s or Simon’s decisions, and I can’t blame her.

“I’m sure he did.” I open my text messages to see the details are already there for tonight’s premiere. “But we’ll need to race back to the house. Traffic is going to be hell.”

“As long as you don’t wreck the car, we should be good. We’ll have time, right?”

“Right.” I smile at her, marveling at how just hearing her voice, seeing that smile on her pretty face, eases my soul.

Yet it feels like everyone else in my life just makes it more difficult. I’m starting to realize that I depend on this girl.

More than I probably should.