Dare

The tears were thick, choking her voice, and every synapse was shooting commands: Run. Stay. Hide. Scream.

 

Evan pushed the car into park, his face half-hidden in the darkened car. Brynna’s eyes ached when the dome light sprung on, black splotches marring her vision. She was vaguely aware of Lauren, Teddy, and Darcy talking in the backseat. But when her vision cleared, it was Evan she saw, head cocked, a serene smile on his face.

 

“You’re welcome,” he said quietly.

 

Terror exploded through Brynna. She fought to find her voice and was finally able to utter a meek, “Why?”

 

“Because you looked so freaked out today, B. I thought maybe a drive by the old stomping grounds would perk you up again. You know, if you had bad memories with an old boyfriend here, you can make some new ones with your awesome new friends.”

 

The smile on Evan’s face was wide, and Brynna wanted to believe him. “You don’t know—I mean, you just picked this beach?”

 

Evan shrugged. “It was close enough to Point Lobos that I figured you probably went here sometimes.” He turned and looked toward the ocean. “It’s so gorgeous. Don’t you love the beach?”

 

“I—I—”

 

The day that Brynna’s family had packed up the car and turned out of Point Lobos was the last time Brynna had seen the ocean. It was a speck in their rearview mirror, a churning gray reminder that Erica was dead, her body somewhere hidden, swallowed in its depths, and Brynna was alive. Crescent City was a full hour away from Point Lobos, but in California, the ocean was never that far away.

 

Brynna tried to inhale deeply like Dr. Rother told her, but her breath caught like a knife in her lung. She was smashed against the dashboard as Darcy, Lauren, and Teddy peeled out of the backseat. Both of the girls took off running, sand kicking up beneath their shoes.

 

“You coming?” Teddy asked, hand out.

 

“Move along, Teddy. B is mine on this one.”

 

Brynna’s head swung back and forth like she was watching a tennis match—Teddy still holding out a hand to her on one team, Evan, his hand on her knee, on the other.

 

Teddy shrugged. “All right, but if this guy tries to lay a hand on you, there’s going to be hell to pay.” His eyebrows were drawn, but there was humor in his voice.

 

“Noted,” Evan shouted as Teddy trotted off after the girls.

 

When Brynna and Evan were alone in the car, he turned to her, arms crossed in front of his chest, his lips in a thin line. “What’s up?”

 

Brynna sank back, her shoulder blades aching against the coils inside the car seat. “What are you talking about?”

 

Evan cocked a single brow and then rolled his eyes, clearly exasperated. “Come on, Bryn. It’s the beach,” he gestured absently. “Everyone loves the beach. And those who hate the beach love it at night. What’s your trauma?”

 

She was mid-shrug when Evan clapped a hand on her shoulder. “And don’t say nothing. And don’t say that what happened in your room before we left was also. I’m not your mother. You can talk to me.”

 

Brynna started to squirm, casting a short glance over her shoulder at the black, crashing waves beyond, then back to Evan’s face, open, waiting.

 

She swallowed.

 

She didn’t want to be that girl anymore.

 

It was her first day back at Lincoln. Everyone around her was grinning, hugging, still in flip-flops and cut-off shorts, their skin still glistening with summer tans—and they all went quiet when Brynna walked in the door. She had never done it alone before—headed through the double doors of the high school—without Erica at her side. They rode to school together, they shared clothes and everything else, but this one thing—the only thing—they didn’t share was glaring, eternal, and final.

 

Those who would look at her offered sympathetic smiles. Most just averted their eyes. But everybody talked.

 

Erica and Brynna used to be a part of the whispers. People were forever leaning in, cupping their hands, whispering darkest secrets, who kissed who, where the party was, to Erica and Brynna. And they would pass it on. But that day, no one whispered to Brynna. Everyone whispered about her.

 

“I heard she was jealous of Erica.”

 

“Steve says she knew about the riptide.”

 

“I heard she’s so upset, she hasn’t left her room since.”

 

“I feel like I should say something, but what do you say?”

 

“She really looks bad—but can you blame her?”

 

The whispers didn’t bother Brynna so much as the fact that she faced them all alone. She pretended not to hear, pretended like she didn’t care, but the only thing that rang through her head was: I should have been the one who died.

 

???

 

“Earth to Brynna!” Evan was snapping his fingers a half inch from her nose.

 

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