My cheeks burn instantly. I'm not used to boys noticing things like that about me. I get noticed for being tough, for throwing hard, for being Eric Winter's daughter, and walking the line between good and bad, often venturing beyond it. I do not get noticed for being beautiful.
"Thanks," I say, my teeth nibbling at my bottom lip while my fingers play with the zipper at the top of my bag.
When I glance back at Kyle, he holds my gaze for a beat and rubs his hand over his mouth and chin, finally nodding slowly, returning his focus back to the road. He keeps it there for the next hour and a half, and we all let the music and Conner's bad jokes fill in the empty space all the way to Pismo Beach.
We pull up next to Wes's truck, and I can't help but start searching for him the moment my feet hit the sand. I walk with the Marley boys and Layla to the fire pit about a hundred yards away from the waterline. Kyle brought an old blanket, and I help him stretch it out so we have a place to leave all of our things. My attention is constantly elsewhere though. I'm searching.
I don't find Wes, but I do find Taryn and TK, and I can't help but feel the sting of my best girlfriend ditching me to come here. I walk up to her and before TK can warn her, I cover her eyes with my hands.
"Guess who?" I say, doing my best to put on a flowery, girly voice full of pep and cheer.
"Joss, I can read right through whatever accent you think that is. Besides, your fingers always feel different," she says, stepping out of my hold. I pull my hands in front of me and look them over, a little ashamed of the calluses and short nails with dirt underneath.
"So were you going to tell me you went to the bonfire after it was all over? Or were you just going to hope it never came up?" I'm standing with my hand on my hip when McKenna walks by, pausing to talk to one of her friends near me, her pose exactly the same. I let my arm fall free and shift my stance accordingly.
"I'm just as pissed that I'm here as you are. Believe me," she says, kicking her feet free of her sneakers and holding them between us to dump out the sand. Her eyes flit to mine as she purses her lips. "My parents cancelled their getaway. They decided they wanted to spend their anniversary at home instead, having movie night with me … and my new fella."
I can't help but laugh, and she rolls her eyes at me when I do, stomping over to the blanket we brought and dropping her shoes on the corner next to mine. "We were about to … you know … when my parents came barreling through the door with movies and steaks and plans. I snuck TK out through the garage door and when my parents told me their plan, I apologized and said I'd already told TK I'd come to the beach with him."
"Aw, that's sweet they wanted to spend their special day with you, though," I say, my smile tight and holding back the floodgate of laughter.
"Yeah, great. Now I'm a bad daughter and I'm sexually frustrated," she says, folding her arms and huffing. She frowns until TK moves his arms around her and kisses at her neck from behind.
"This beach plan ain't so bad," he says, his eyes moving to me with a quick wink.
"Yeah, I guess not," she giggles, turning into him until their lips lock and I'm forgotten.
I excuse myself quickly and walk over to where Kyle and Conner are standing with Levi. My stomach tightens because Wes isn't with his brothers. It means he's somewhere else-with someone else. And it doesn't take me long to spot him.
Wes isn't standing next to her, but he's close enough that she occasionally reaches forward while she talks, touching his arm and kicking at his legs as she laughs. He doesn't seem interested, honestly. But he also doesn't seem to move.
One of McKenna's friends drives one of those giant Jeeps, and they've pulled it partially into the sand from the parking lot. I've seen people get busted for doing that before, but I have a feeling, with my luck, nobody will be patrolling by foot here tonight. And even if they were, I bet McKenna would bat her lashes and manage to worm her way out of any ticket or trouble for her friend.
The Jeep has a big speaker in the back, and that's what's sending the music over our growing crowd. The bonfire isn't really lit yet, but the spots near it are already getting taken up by blankets and towels as people claim their space. I hope McKenna's towel catches on fire when they finally light it.
I'm not being bashful about my stare, and when Wes looks my direction, I don't move, instead raising my hand to the side and offering a stiff wave with my eyebrows high. Wes sets his cup down on the back of the Jeep and says something to McKenna, which causes her to turn and glare at me as he walks my direction. My stomach both sinks and beats with my heart's rhythm at the same time.
"Hey," he says, glancing back at McKenna, whose eyes are locked on us like lasers. I lean sideways beyond his profile to make eye contact with her and hold my hand out in an overly-enthusiastic wave. Her brow lowers as she picks up his discarded cup and begins to follow in his footsteps toward us.
"Your date's a little pissed off that you abandoned her," I say. When he bunches his forehead at me, I nod over his shoulder so he can see McKenna's angry stomp in our direction.
"She's not my date," he chuckles.
I start to smile and breathe deep, but it's cut short when McKenna steps up to his side and slides her arm through his, handing him his cup.
"You forgot your drink, babe," she says.
Wes quirks an eyebrow at her, but takes the cup from her hand. "Uh, thanks," he says, glancing up at me. I'm waiting with my smug grin, sorry to be right.
"Hey, Joss!" Levi yells, and I turn to give him my full attention. He's holding a bat in his hand and a giant mushball in the other. "Whataya say? Quick game?"
"Hells yeah!" I say, ditching Wes and the bitch he says isn't his date.
Taryn and I are the only girls who decide to join the game, and I insist we play on the same team. Levi gets mad when Kyle picks me first, so to protest, he convinces Wes to join his team. With teams of six settled, we toss a coin to see who hits first, and Levi wins. I offer to pitch, because it's mushball, and there isn't much to it other than tossing it underhand near the batter. Kyle's fast, and we need him to catch and field the ball-he knows he can throw it to me at home plate.
I aim as Levi steps up next to the folded towel we use for our plate, and he hits the first pitch I throw. The heavy ball doesn't go as far as a normal one, but Kyle still has to dive to make the catch.
"Keep that up, and I'll tell coach you're good at that shit. He'll have your ass in center," Levi taunts. Kyle runs his hand under his chin lightly, giving Levi the finger.
Wes steps up next, and I do my best to ignore the way he's looking at me. I throw three pitches and he lets them all go by, so before I throw the fourth, I walk up to him and hold the ball out for him to examine.
"Those are all hittable. Don't be a prick," I say.
"I'm not being a prick," he says, letting the bat drop to his shoulder as his head tilts down to meet my eyes.
"Then hit the damn ball," I say, challenging him.
"You're standing too close," he says.
"Fuck that. I'm standing just fine. Now swing," I say, spinning around and walking back to the line in the sand.
Wes sighs, then drops the end of his bat against the towel.
"Pitch it with an arc so I can hit it over you," he says.
"Screw you. You don't get to call your own pitch," I say, throwing the ball flat and level. He lets it sail by him, and Taryn catches it then tosses it back to me.
"I don't want to hit you, Joss," he says, the bat once again slumped on his shoulder.
"If you hit me, I'll catch it," I say.
Several long seconds pass as we stare at each other in this standoff of the sexes. I'm making it about that. But I know it's also about more than that. Wes legitimately doesn't want to hurt me. I'm getting ready to step into my windup, even though he isn't ready, and I'm going to lob one in with an arc, just like he requested, when McKenna actually cheers for him.
"Come on, Wes baby. You can do this!"
Baby.
I rear back and heave the mushball toward Taryn, another flat pitch. Wes shakes his head as it passes.
"If we had an umpire, you'd have struck out looking," I say, clapping my hands in request of the ball. Taryn tosses it back to me, and I repeat the same pitch.
"Steeee-rike!" I shout. I'm almost pleased when Wes sighs, his chest falling with his disappointment in my behavior.
"Come on, Joss. Do you want me to pitch? Just give him what he wants!" Kyle shouts from several feet behind me.
I refuse though, and I pitch another ball exactly the same way. Wes lets four more pass-but every time, I see his muscles flexing more, his bat lowering, his body weight shifting and getting ready. I'm pissing him off, and I like it.