TRIVIA NIGHT HAS BEEN A tradition since last year. It’s hosted by a bar on the beach every Tuesday night. Trivia Taco Tuesday is my favorite day of the entire week. Mostly because I can get my favorite tacos for half the price, and who doesn’t love tacos?
Brit and I already have a table by the window, looking out toward the ocean while we wait for the rest of our party. A plate of half-eaten fries sits between us.
Usually, she and I get to the bar a half hour early to have a little best friend bonding time.
I spin the straw around my cup, stirring my soda, as I watch Brit pick nervously at the napkin-wrapped silverware. Her camera sits to her side.
Pushing my drink away, I wave my hand in her face. “If you don’t stop that, there’s going to be hamster bedding on the table.”
Brit blinks before looking down at her shredded mess. “Oops.”
“Yeah, oops.” I smirk. “Want to tell me what’s going on with you?”
“I invited Dez.”
“Ah.” A sound, not even a word, is all I can think to say for a moment.
As far as I know, they hooked up at the party and then went to the movies. She never told me if anything happened after.
Her phone vibrates on the table and she grabs it, clutching it in her hand. “We’ve hooked up a few times since the party and he wanted to hang out tonight so I invited him.”
“You’ve hooked up more than at the party?” I repeat her words as they swim around my head. When she nods, I make a noise, earning me a few looks from other patrons. Their looks go ignored as I lean across the table. “How come you didn’t tell me?” My body is so far over the table that my butt isn’t in my chair anymore. Using my foot, I try to hook around the leg of the chair and end up losing my balance, falling on my ass. “This is what happens when you keep things from your best friend,” I grumble. “They get hurt.”
“You’re crazy,” she tells me, laughing and flicking a fry my way once I’m back in my chair. “But he texted me two days after the movies to come over and I did and, well, things happened…”
I blink, giving her a bland look as my excitement instantly melts from my face. “Seriously? That’s all you’re going to tell me? I feel cheated.”
“Yeah?” Brit leans back in her chair, arms crossed. “Now you know how I feel about finding out you’ve been hanging out with Sebastian.”
“There’s a big difference between platonically hanging out with a hot guy and getting serviced by his dick.”
Brit spews out the soda she’s drinking, a mist of liquid spraying in front of her, layering the table and my shirt in a mixture of cola and saliva. She doubles over, clutching her stomach as she howls with laughter.
After the shock of getting an unwanted shower, I join in and we’re both laughing until our stomachs tighten and tears paint our faces.
“I can’t believe you just said that.” She pauses. “No, wait. It’s you that I’m talking to. Of course you would say something like that.”
I grin, throwing a soggy, gross fry at her. “Now I’m covered in your spit and drink. Fuck you, Brit.” I stand up but give her a sharp look. “When I get back, I need details. All the details.”
“Where are you going?” she asks before I can walk away.
“To change.” My trunk is always full of clothes. Somewhere along the way, my car turned into a portable closet. Which is really handy for scenarios involving your best friend spitting on you.
Popping the trunk, I shuffle through the mound of clothes, looking for a shirt.
Maybe it’s more like a moving closet floor. Articles of clothing are unfolded and thrown about.
Finding a shirt, I back away, slamming the hatchback closed, and am walking back to the bar when I hear my name being called.
I spy a familiar looking green truck and feel myself smiling at the figure approaching. His hair is shaggy and damp, looking relaxed in khaki cargo shorts and a dark green shirt. A pair of sunglasses hang around his neck. He looks good.
He looks really good.
But Bash always looks good.
For a moment, he distracts me enough to forget my shirt is sticking to my chest and that the white fabric is stained and sheer.
Bash draws close enough to hear me squeak in alarm.
“Stop!” And he does. Freezes mid-step, raising an eyebrow. “Sorry, but my shirt is wet and you can totally see through it.”
The grin that stretches across his face can only be described as shit-eating. The fucker. He steps closer, engulfing me in his scent of natural man, detergent, and shower gel. “More reason to come closer.”
“Bash,” I warn, holding my dry shirt between us. He might see my scars.
“Emery.” He steps into my personal bubble. I want to retreat but my legs have stopped working. He dips his head down, angling our faces close together. “Hi.”
“Hi,” I whisper. “You came.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t?”
Honestly, a part of me didn’t think he would. The small, pessimistic side of my brain wouldn’t let me.
I’ve been bailed on by guys before. A lot, actually.
So, my wariness in guys wanting to hang out with me is just a natural reaction. And yeah, Bash has hung out with me before. Every morning, in fact, but this feels different. This is different.
Like our friendship is developing and evolving into something more.
I squeak out an, “I don’t know.” Then quickly add, “I’mgladyoudidthough!” My words come out so fast, they blur together.
Bash levels a look my way, sees my internal panic, and turns me around so I’m facing the bar. He’s giving me my means to escape.
Before I can walk away, he leans in close. Warm breath tickles the spot behind my ear. “I’ll see you inside.”
Bash has Brit laughing at something as I walk toward them wearing the clean shirt. The dirty one is tucked into my bag.
Sliding back into my seat, the seat right beside Bash, he turns his body toward mine. “Where have you been hiding her?”
I groan, not even wanting to know what these two were talking about. “I haven’t. Dez’s dick has been entertaining her.”
“Emery!” Brit says, her cheeks going red, but she’s laughing. “My friend has no filter. What she means to say is that I’ve been busy.”
I laugh, biting my cheek to refrain from adding on. See! I do have a filter! I just choose to ignore it.
The waitress comes over, asking Bash for his order. After ordering a beer, she lingers, flirting with him across my head.
A strange feeling rises in my stomach. One I try to ignore until her blatant flirting becomes too much. Glaring up at her, I snap, “I’ll have a rum runner.”
“Aren’t you a little young, hon?” Her eyes don’t leave Bash’s as she talks to me. Almost as if she is trying to get him to join her in her attempts to make me feel inferior.
Too bad for her, I’m not easily scared.
Smiling with more venom than honey, I hand her my fake I.D.
The I.D. is as legit as it gets. Florida license, my birthday just three years before, same address as my house, and a picture of me. The only difference is the back. Which the waitress doesn’t even look at before she passes it back with a huff.
I take it with a swell of triumph.
With one last look of longing at Bash, who isn’t even trying to fight a smile, the waitress walks away, her steps are a little too forceful as she goes.
She’s barely out of earshot before Brit starts cackling. “I really hope you’re not going to drink that.”
“She’s probably going to spit in it or something,” I say as I look over my shoulder towards the bar. “I did really want a drink though.”
Chuckling, Bash throws his arm around the back of my seat. I shift, feeling the heat of his arm. “She’s going to hate our table now.”
“No, she’s going to hate me now.” When I look up at him, his brown eyes crinkle at the corners. “She’s still going to love you.”
“She doesn’t love me.”
“Don’t be dense.” I poke his chest. “Girls here keep glancing at you with heart eyes. It’s like some love at first sight cliché.”
He lowers his head, coming closer to my ear. I shiver as his breath hits my neck, as his words roll across his tongue. “I think the word you’re looking for is lust. They want to fuck me, Em.”
I try to pull away from him as something uncomfortable settles into my stomach. But Bash doesn’t let me. His arm tightens around my chair as he pulls it to him. He won’t let me escape. “But I don’t want to fuck them. I wouldn’t be here if I did.”
I stare at the condensation ring my soda has left on the table, eyes dazed, and at a loss for words. Nothing runs through my brain except uuuhhh and mmmhmmm. Really, I don’t know what to say to that. There is nothing coming to me.
Not even a sarcastic, deflecting comment.
I have nothing.
For the second time tonight, I am speechless. This never happens.
Brit clears her throat, looking up from her phone. “If you two are done, I’d like to get back to not feeling like a third wheel.”
“You’re not a third wheel. We’re a tricycle,” I tease.
“No,” Brit disagrees, shaking her head. “The three of us aren’t a tricycle. No offense.” She looks at Bash and he shrugs, waving her off. “You, me, and Nori are the tricycle.”
My phone vibrates on the table. Checking the screen, I laugh. “Say her name, and she hears.”
Nori’s texting to say that she’s on her way, but doesn’t know if she’s going to stay until ten, when trivia ends. She just got back from a diving competition earlier today and she’s going back to the pool tomorrow at six in the morning.
No rest for the determined is what she always says when someone tells her to take a day off.
Nori has plans, plans that involve the Olympics and gold medals. She’s had her eyes set on that podium since she was a little girl.
The Lawson girls are pretty dedicated to their sports.
I’m in the middle of sending my reply when our waitress comes back, placing our drinks on the table. I give her a smile, much nicer than the last one. She doesn’t return it. Nor does she look at Bash before walking away.
As I’m reaching for the glass, hands knock mine away.
“What the hell?” I say to Bash, who’s ignoring my glare and reaching across me, picking up my glass instead of his beer.
I grow even more confused as he stands up, walking back toward the bar. I turn to Brit. “What the hell was that?”
“I don’t know.” Brit shrugs. “Maybe he’s offended by pink.”
I give her a look, seriously doubting that the color of my drink offends him.
She shrugs again. “I don’t know, Emery. I’ve lived with men my entire life and I still don’t understand how their minds work.”
“The same can be said for women as well,” a deep, gravelly voice says as he sits on the other side of Brit.
I grin as she shoots her brother a look. Oh, this is going to be good.
I don’t say anything, just sitting back to enjoy the bickering that is about to happen.
“And who asked you to chime in? Not me.”
“It’s not like you’re talking in a soundproof box between you and Emery. Therefore, I can join.”
“Excuse me? Did you just say therefore? Since when do you know words that have more than six letters?”
He flips her off, not bothering to give her a response.
Brit can verbally spar with her brother for hours, but Geer usually stops it after a few volleys.
Bash comes back, placing my drink in front of me again.
I scrunch my eyebrows at it. “Was this a weird game of bar tag? Was I supposed to chase you to be able to drink it?”
“No.” Bash bends down and kisses the top of my head before sitting down. “Saw the waitress spit in it so I got you a new one.”
“That stuff actually happens? Spitting in drinks?” Brit asks.
My mind is too busy reeling from his lips touching my head to focus on their conversation. Warm lava settles in my stomach from the action. Where did that come from? When can it happen again? Do I trust myself not to run away before it does?
Pushing these thoughts into the avoidance cave for now, I pick up my drink, taking a sip that is spit-free. “Thank you,” I mouth to him before my world goes black.
“Guess who?” a voice asks, in a faux, high-pitched volume.
Long, calloused fingers cover my eyes, blindfolding me in darkness. Reaching a hand up, I pull on their arm hair.
With a yelp, the hands drop away and I can see again. Cursing sounds from behind me and I don’t even have to turn around to see who it is. Throwing my arm back, I elbow him in his side. “Fucking asshole, what is this? Second grade?”
Xavier snickers as he sits next to Geer. Geer, who is fisting his phone, checking the screen every fifteen seconds and mouthing something to himself.
“Nothing wrong with getting in touch with your youth,” Xavier says. He dude-nods to Geer and Bash. Geer responds right away, but Bash takes a few extra seconds. I stiffen, worrying tension will ruin the night.
I don’t relax until Bash nods, taking a pull of his beer after.
“Xavier!” Brit jumps out her chair to give him a hug. They’ve been friends almost as long as he and I have. “Where’s your sister?” Brit asks when she pulls away.
“With her boy,” he says with a mocking tone. He can’t stand the guy Sienna is dating and makes his feelings clear about him with every chance he gets. “Where’s Anora?”
“Nori is right here,” the girl in question replies as she slides into the empty seat next to Bash. Which also happens to be across from Xavier. She juts her thumb at me. “I don’t even let my cousin call me by my full name so stop calling me that. Please?”
Nori’s as sweet as overly sugared sweet tea. She hates drama and conflict, would rather be submissive in friendships, not loud or talkative. Except when she’s with us.
But even then, she tries to stop arguments before they happen. I asked her why she acts the way she does with her other friends and she reminds me that she’s still in high school. A senior, but she doesn’t want to spend it as a loner.
Better to be alone in a group of people than by yourself.
Her words still break my heart and I want to get up and wrap my arms around her. She’s the closest thing I have to a sister and I will protect her at all costs.
We all watch as Xavier concedes to her request, at least for tonight, with a nod. He reaches across the table and taps her nose. “And what has you looking like you’re two seconds away from passing out?”
Peering closer at my cousin, I notice she does look like she’s about to flop down on the table. Her skin looks pale and she has deep, dark circles under her eyes.
As Xavier and I study her, she covers her mouth as she lets out a long yawn and rubs her eyes. “Insomnia and my diving schedule aren’t getting along.”
“You told me you were sleeping better.”
Words I think, words I want to say, but can’t because Xavier beats me to it. I scrunch my face as I look between my cousin and friend. Mouthing to Brit, they talk?
She shrugs, mouthing back, I don’t know.
Oblivious to anything else going on, Nori looks at Xavier. Shyness clouds her face. “I was, but I’ve been traveling and when I travel I can’t take my stand of Himalayan Salt Crystals.”
I groan.
Xavier looks confused.
And Bash is staring at Nori like he’s found a kindred spirit.
“What?” Nori gives me a look. “They work.”
“What the hell are himmabablyn crystals?” Xavier asks, growing more confused. His features pinch and a frown lines his face.
Laughs chorus around the table, making Xavier even more lost. Nori giggles one more time before explaining, “They’re these rocks that essentially act as an air purifier and help with a bunch of sleeping issues like insomnia, sleep apnea, and snoring. They’re magical and I love them.”
Xavier doesn’t look convinced, but neither was I when Nori first told me that. Another thing about my cousin is that she really loves her crystals. “I’m calling bullshit.”
“Nah, man,” Bash says. “It’s true. I have really bad insomnia but a year ago, I got them and it helps. I left them when I came down here and have really noticed the difference.”
“No, Bash,” I groan as I dramatically drop my head on his shoulder before pulling away just as quickly. “Not you too.”
He chuckles as Nori explains, “She thinks I’m crazy over my crystals since I tell everyone about them. Now she probably thinks you’re going to do the same.”
“They’re amazing, I get it,” I deadpan. “I just don’t need to constantly hear about it.”
At some point during the crystal debate, I look over and notice Brit’s chair is empty. When did she get up?
I’m a crappy best friend for only noticing when she comes back with two pads of paper and a pen in her hand. Uncapping the pen, she asks, “What’s our team name?”
“Save a tree, eat a beaver.” Xavier holds out his fist to bump with Bash. Who declines.
Smart man.
“No, funny boy. Nice try though.” Nori pulls out her phone. “Hold on.” Typing away on it, she looks up and asks, “How about The Trivia Troupe?”
“You can do better than that.” Brit reaches for Nori’s phone, but my cousin leans away.
“Les Quizerables?”
“No,” Geer contributes before glaring at his phone.
Nori looks offended. “It’s a fantastic musical. You should be honored to carry the trivia equivalent name.”
“It’s also a book I had to suffer though in high school.” He growls. The normal tone of Geer. “So, no.”
“So surly tonight,” Nori tries to tease, but the corners of her mouth dip a little. I frown.
Something else is going on that she’s not sharing.
Xavier catches my eye, looking as worried as I do. I’ll stress about him later.
“Hey, Nor?” I call, leaning a little toward Bash in the process.
My call goes ignored by her, but not Bash. He turns more of his body to me, brushing the hair out of my face in the process. A small smile forms as I whisper, “Hey.”
“Hey, Firecracker.” He gives a small smile back.
“I’m really glad you came.”
Surfing might be the secret I keep from half the people present at the table, but I don’t want to keep Bash a secret. I want to share him with my friends, introduce him to the weirdos that are us, and maybe help him not feel so lonely. Because even if he doesn’t say it, I know he feels it.
“You said that already.” Gah, can his smile be any hotter?
“Some of these are seriously disturbing.” Nori’s voice pulls us out of our soundproof bubble, something I didn’t realize happened until the steady hum of conversations around us fills the room again. “Like this one.” She reads it aloud and we all cringe.
“Fucking sickos,” Xavier spits.
“Ew.” Brit looks sick.
“Just no.” I am horrified.
“Just pick a name, damn it,” Geer snaps, glaring at Nori. She shrinks back from Geer.
What is going on?
Geer can be an asshole, but he’s never been so snappy and rude like this. Especially to Nori.
“Lay off, Jackson,” Xavier warns. “She suggested one that you shot down. So don’t fucking get snippy unless you want to pick the damn name.”
Nori leans a little more into the table at his words, but her phone screen is black and sitting on the table.
Brit’s glaring at her brother, shoving the pads of paper in front of him. “Congrats. You get the honor, asshole. Better pick a good one.”
He takes the pen from her, mumbling something under his breath—curse words I’m sure—as he scribbles something on the trivia sheets. “There.”
Taking the paper back, Brit smiles. “Periodic Table Dancers.”
We all laugh.
“My mom would be so proud.”
“So, Bash.” Brit’s suddenly serious. Her fingers make a bridge for her chin to rest on as her elbows are propped on the table. “What were your best subjects in school?”
I’m about to interrupt, telling her that he didn’t go to school after he was on the track to go pro. But I stop myself.
1.) Because it’s really creepy I know that—damn the teenage gossip magazines I read when I was younger.
2.) Bash puts his hand on my knee as he leans back in his chair.
“History and science,” he says.
“Hmm.” Brit taps her ring clad pointer finger on her chin. “I think we can use you.”
“Glad I’ve been deemed worthy.”
“You’re only worthy if you contribute,” Nori explains before pointing with her index and middle finger to Xavier. “If you don’t, then you’re like this one. A pretty face but nothing else.”
“I always knew you were attracted to me, Anora.” Well, not calling her by her full name lasted about twenty minutes. We should have placed bets. He leans over the table. “But you know if you really want me, you just have to ask.”
“Hey!” I get out of my seat, leaning over Bash before I realize what’s happening. Snapping my fingers in Xavier’s face, he blinks up at me. “Stop fucking being weird with my cousin. She’s seventeen. In case you weren’t aware of the law, that’s considered a minor. And since you’re twenty-two, that means it’s illegal.”
With his hands around my waist, Bash directs me back to my chair. I sit down stiffly.
Watching Xavier.
“Actually, Em. I’m well aware of the law here since I have dual citizenship and in the state of Florida it’s legal to be with a minor up to a seven year age difference.”
“How the hell do you know that?” Geer snaps, not looking up from his phone.
Okay, seriously. People think I’m dependent on my cell phone. I don’t have anything on Geer. I haven’t even touched mine since Nori sat down.
Despite Geer’s rude behavior, I have to agree. We all look at him, waiting for an answer, but he shrugs. “I like to be informed on all the laws.”
“That’s creepy.” Brit scrunches her face.
“He’s lying,” Nori tells us, rolling her eyes. “I told him.”
“I don’t even want to know why,” I mumble and Bash chuckles.