LAUREN
“Drop the spoon and back away from the Häagen-Dazs.”
I licked what was left of the double chocolate chunk from the spoon clutched in my hand.
“I’m serious, Lo. Ice cream for breakfast can only mean one thing.” Emerson raised a pointed eyebrow at me while she waited for my defense.
But I didn’t have one. It was exactly what Em had been warning me about for years: Guys were dogs.
And it wasn’t like I hadn’t believed her, but I guess I’d always held out hope, too—that somewhere out there was the exception to the rule. You know, that one perfect guy who would prove her wrong—prove me wrong—by sweeping me off my feet and showing everyone he was different. Special.
What on earth had made me think Will might be that guy?
Clearly, I’d been smoking crack, because he’d turned out to be just as bad as the rest of them. Worse even.
I can’t believe I almost . . .
I stopped myself. It wasn’t like anything had actually happened between us. I hadn’t almost let him do anything.
I’d made a simple mistake and I needed to stop beating myself up over it. Everyone was entitled to a lapse in judgment now and then. End of story.
So what was wrong with me, then, that I hadn’t stopped thinking about Will for the entire time I’d been cloistered inside my not-so-beachside bungalow? Why couldn’t I get him off my mind? Why, whenever I drifted off to sleep, did I dream of him, and whenever the pizza guy knocked on the door did I foolishly hope that maybe, this time, it might be—please let it be—Will, coming, not to drop off the money he’d promised to pay me back, but to beg my forgiveness?
Because the jerk was drop-dead gorgeous, that’s why. And because I’d let him touch my lady parts and light a fire no one else had ever lit before. Because I was stupid, just like all those guys who’d sat on the other side of their computer screens, dropping just a few more bucks to get a peek at my boobs or to watch me touch myself. Because I’d made the mistake of letting my guard down.
Because I was human, that’s why.
Ugh!
I put the cover back on the carton and tossed the spoon in the sink. “There—happy?” I asked.
“Not till you get your ass dressed, and maybe run a comb through that rat’s nest of yours. You dragged me all the way to California, and now I’m takin’ you to the beach.”
I sighed. “Fine. Whatever.”
But Em was right again, just like she had been about the whole guys are dogs thing. The beach would be good. I’d been inside the house for the past three days, living on nothing but ice cream and pizza delivery. Given half a chance, my best friend was actually prone to moments of brilliance.
I was done with all this feeling-sorry-for-myself crap. Will could go screw himself as far as I was concerned. I didn’t move here to get my panties in a wad over some guy; I came to prove that I was capable of living my own life. That my dreams were just as important as my parents’ dreams.
Except, I had no idea what those dreams were anymore.
Even before Will had up and quit on me, I’d been having doubts about myself.
Swimming wasn’t just scary, it was hard. And from day one it had been obvious I wasn’t exactly a natural. So what did that mean? Had I made a terrible mistake moving here in the first place?
Emerson had only come because of me, but that didn’t mean she didn’t love it here.
So maybe swimming wasn’t my thing. Big deal. I never thought I’d say this, but maybe I needed to be more like Em and look on the bright side of things—I was in California, after all. Maybe I could find something else to make me want to stay.
I brushed my teeth, pulled my hair into a ponytail, and slipped into my bikini—the Lola Bang one, because even though Will didn’t want to see me in it, that didn’t mean it wasn’t completely killer on me.
When I came back out, Em was grinning at me. “There’s the girl I know and love.” She hooked her arm through mine. “Now, let’s go get you laid.”
“Or . . .” I offered as an alternative, because maybe our goals didn’t exactly align, but at least she was still looking out for me, “how ’bout we start small and work on our tans.”
“How is it possible that my best friend in the whole wide world is gonna die a virgin?” She led me outside. “You’re going to end up like my aunt—the crazy cat lady who posts cat pictures and cat memes on her Facebook page.”
“Nope. I’m allergic.”
She shrugged. “Still. You know what they say, if you don’t use it, you lose it.”
Already, I was feeling better. I cocked my head to the side, letting it fall against Em’s shoulder. “Nope. Not a real thing.”
“Pretty sure it is. It just . . . dries up. Shrivels into a black hole or something.”
I gave her a you’re crazy look. “If it shrivels up, how can it still be a hole?”
She just rolled her eyes. “Science, dummy. And trust me, you do not want to mess with science.”
When we reached the end of the road, our toes sank into the already hot sand. We stopped to stare at each other.
“I love you,” I told her.
“I know,” she said back. And then we took off racing toward the water like little girls until my legs ached and we both collapsed on our backs and made sand angels. Emerson told me all about Lucas and everything they’d done—which was pretty much everything.
Suddenly, it didn’t matter why I was here, because I was here with Emerson. And we had the entire summer until she had to leave me and I needed to decide what I would do next.