“Don’t do that!” I yell at Asher, who has nearly given me a fucking heart attack sneaking up on me.
“Sorry.” He blushes before noticing the tear on my face. “Are you okay?” he asks, lifting his hand up.
I quickly swipe away the tear and scowl at him. “What are you doing here?” I snap, standing up off my rock.
“I seen you climbing and wondered what was over here.” He shrugs. “Is this your secret spot?” he asks, looking around when I just huff in response.
“Yes. Tell anyone, especially Hayes, about it, and I will castrate you,” I warn.
“Got it.” His face pales at my words, and his hands unconsciously go to his junk. “It’s nice here,” he comments, walking into the cave.
“Yeah. Not many people know about it,” I tell him, following him inside the small space and sitting on the still-wet sand.
“You come here a lot?”
“Yeah,” I sigh, pulling my legs up to my chest. “It’s a good place to think,” I whisper.
“I had this place back home. It was on the outskirts of the city. A small wooded area with a stream. I used to go there,” he whispers. “That’s what I thought I’d miss most about home,” he adds, but more to himself.
“What do you miss the most?” I find myself asking. Oh God, what if he says his girlfriend? I bet he has a girlfriend back home, and I’ve become the other woman!
“The weed,” he answers before slapping his hand over his mouth like he wasn’t meant to say that.
“You smoke weed?” I ask, trying to hold back my laugh.
“I used to. Not since we moved,” he mumbles, looking out at the water.
“Well, why didn’t you just say?” I giggle, reaching for my bag. I pull out a pre-rolled joint and lighter and pass them over.
“You smoke?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Everyone does,” I snort, rolling my eyes.
“You don’t fit into the stoner stereotype,” he comments, placing the joint between his lips and lighting it.
“I’m not a stoner. I just smoke every now and then.” I shrug, taking the joint out of his lips and placing it between my own.
“What stereotype do you fit in?” he asks as I try to blow a ring but fail.
“Huh?” I ask, taking another puff.
“Cheerleader, cute nerdy girl, or stoner?” He smirks, repeating Hayes’s words from yesterday.
“Cheerleader.” I smirk when his face drops into a state of utter shock.
“You’re a cheerleader?” Asher asks, raising his eyebrows and looking me up and down.
“I am,” I giggle.
“But cheerleaders are always bitchy!”
“This isn’t a movie,” I laugh, throwing my head back.
“But at my old school, they were the worst,” he tries to argue.
“Not here. We’re all pretty normal. There aren’t really cliques here,” I offer.
“There’s not?” He frowns.
“Nope. No bitchy head cheerleader, no bad boy.” I shake my head before pursing my lips. “Although the captain of the football team is the stereotypical meathead man-whore,” I add.
“Hayes?” he chuckles.
“Hayes,” I agree.
“What stereotype did you fall into?” I ask, stubbing out the butt and placing it into the tin in my bag.
“Guess.” He smirks, waggling his eyebrows up and down.
“Slutty jock?” I ask after pretending to think about it.
“Nope.”
“Asshole jock?”
“Nope.”
“Nerdy jock?”
“Nope.”
“I give up!” I exclaim, throwing my arms up.
“Bad boy,” he whispers so close to my face I can feel his breath.
“No way!” I deadpan, looking him over. “You have no tattoos or piercings! Where’s your leather jacket?” I question, calling him out on his bullshit.
“See here.” He points to his eyebrow.
I lean in and see two holes that used to hold a bar.
“And here.” He points to his lip. “It’s too hot for my jacket,” he adds, sticking his tongue out only to show he still has a bar through it. How drunk was I last night that I didn’t even notice it?
“Tattoos?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
He turns away from me, showing me his back.
In the middle of his shoulder blades is a black and gray deer skull. There are four small flowers connected by a vine on the left antler. On the right, there’s nothing.
I can’t help but trace my fingers over the vine and flowers, completely mesmerized. I feel Asher’s body shiver under my touch and quickly pull my hand away.
“Any more?” I whisper when he turns around.
“This,” he whispers back, holding up his left wrist. There are three small tattoos right above where his hand meets his arm.
A peace sign, a yin-yang, and a compass.
“What are they for?” I ask, tracing my finger over each one lightly.
“That’s a story for another time,” he whispers, bringing his hand away from my touch.
“Want to go for a swim?” I ask, looking up at him with a smile.
Asher and I spend most of the day swimming at my secret spot. We only get out because both of our stomachs are rumbling and he says he might actually die if he doesn’t eat something.
We climb over the rocks in record time but then walk slowly toward my house, him carrying both of our shirts and my bag. Well, he wrapped my bag in the shirts, but still.
“Mom’s not home,” I groan as my house comes into view.
“Does that matter?” he asks, giving me a sideways look.
“She makes the best sandwiches,” I groan, throwing my head back.
“I’m sure you can make one,” he laughs.
“No. If it wasn’t for Mom or Hayes, I’d starve to death,” I pout.
Well, I wouldn’t. I can make cereal and toast.
“Let’s just go to the Diner,” I sigh, leading the way up to my house, where the back door is open.
“Be very, very quiet,” I whisper before sneaking inside with Asher following closely behind.
“Why do we have to be quiet?” he whispers.
“If Hayes hears us, he’ll want to come,” I answer, going into the kitchen.
I jump at the sight of my brother, who is leaning against the counter with his arms crossed and a disapproving face.
“You two weren’t about to do what I think you were doing,” he states with no emotion in his voice.
“What? Pfft. No.” I stumble out.
“Seriously, Hazel?” he sighs, running his hand down his face, his lips turning up into a small smile. “Asher, what do you have to say for yourself?” he snaps, making Asher take a step closer to me.
He totally isn’t a bad boy. “Ahh…,” he draws out, scratching the back of his head.
“Stop being mean,” I laugh and shove Hayes out of the way so I can get some money out of the drawer.
Once he’s out of the way, I see his bong on the bench, which he was actually trying to hide, not block me from the drawer.
“I can’t believe you were trying to sneak out to lunch without me,” he fake pouts.
“You’re still not coming,” I sing-song, walking past him and grabbing my bag and top from Asher. I slide the money into the bag before pulling my shirt back on, now that I’m completely dry.
“Aw, come on. It’s like two, and I haven’t eaten,” Hayes whines like a child.
“You can come, man,” Asher laughs and earns himself a glare from me.
“Come on then,” I huff.
“You guys go ahead. I’ll catch up.” Hayes locks his eyes with me, and we have one of our silent twin conversations that freaks everyone out.
“No fucking way,” Hayes exclaims out loud before he starts laughing. “You smoke weed, dude?” he asks Asher, still laughing.
“Uh, yeah,” he says, looking between Hayes and me.
“Why didn’t you say?” Hayes keeps laughing and leads the way out the back door.
At the Diner—yes, that’s the name of the local diner—Hayes makes sure to slide into the seat next to me, making sure Asher has to sit across from us. I send him a look, letting him know we’ll be talking about this later, to which he just pulls a face.
“What’d you two do all day?” Hayes asks, looking between us.
“Well, Asher told me all his deep dark secrets, then we swam.” I roll my eyes looking around for my favorite waitress, Monica.
When I spot her, she’s busy refilling a tourist drink. As if she can feel my eyes on her, her head snaps up, and she quickly rushes over to our booth.
“Thank god you’re here! I need girl talk ASAP. Cameron asked me over to his house tonight, right?” she rambles, not even stopping as she fills up three glasses of lemonade for us.
“I was like, is there a party? And he’s like, no babe, it’s just you and me. I want to make it up to you for vomiting. Do you think he’s going to tell me he loves me?”
“Take a breath, string bean,” Hayes laughs, and she slaps him upside the head. She’s always hated that nickname. But she’s super tall and skinny, so it’s fitting.
“Baze,” I warn with a sigh. “You know my thoughts on love,” I begin, leaning over my idiot brother. “You’ve been hanging out for what, four days? It’s too soon for love,” I tell her pointedly.
“You always say that. What about you, new guy?” she asks, sighing at me.
“I agree with Hazel,” he mutters, looking behind her and narrowing his eyes.
“Great, now we have two heartless people in this town,” she grumbles, making Hayes burst out in laughter. He actually clutches his sides, and tears stream down his face.
“Wasn’t even that funny,” I mumble. “Honestly, it sounds like he just wants his dick sucked,” I say louder to Monica.
“Ugh. You give one guy one lousy blow job, and now that’s all boys ever want you for,” she huffs, throwing her hands in the air.
“By the way, where the fuck are your shoes? I can’t believe you two,” she asks, shaking her head with a ghost of a smile on her lips.
“We live on the beach. Shoes are only for school and football,” Hayes scoffs, rolling his eyes. Monica always pesters us about our shoes, but she only does it to annoy Hayes.
“Monica! Back to work!” her mom and the owner of the Diner, Sarah, yells from behind the counter.
“I’m taking their order!” she yells back, rolling her eyes so only we could see. “What would you like?” she asks but only directs the question to Asher.
“Cheeseburger and fries,” he orders, not taking his eyes off whatever he was glaring at behind Monica.
“What are you looking at?” Hayes asks, craning his neck to see whatever Asher was looking at. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look as well.
“My brothers.” He nods toward two younger teenage boys sitting at a table not far from us.
“What’s their names?” Hayes asks with a glint in his eyes.
“Please don’t,” I groan at the same time Asher answers.
“Yo! Benji! Chase!”
