Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83520 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 278(@300wpm)
Then, I lift the camera to my face and adjust the lens until the water and the land is just visible on the horizon and press the shutter button. When a few seagulls soar overhead, I tip the camera upward and lock on them in the viewfinder. The water is such an intense blue. As it laps at the side of the boat, I can’t help but wonder how deep it is.
It's beautiful but fathomless.
Goosebumps prickle along my arms and I retreat a cautious step, not wanting to get too close to the edge. Ridiculous as it sounds, I never learned how to swim. Even standing near the deep end of the pool at school makes me uneasy.
As I stare out over the endless stretch of waves, my head grows dizzy and nausea blooms in the pit of my belly. I press a hand to my lower abdomen to stifle the growing sickness.
It doesn’t work.
Maybe it would be best to sit down again. When I was settled at Austin’s feet, I didn’t feel any of this. Probably because I was too focused on him and the way he was touching me.
I release a slow breath and head back to where I left the camera bag. As I pass Aubrey, she lifts the container of water to her lips and takes a swig.
“You’re such a loser,” Sloane says. “Don’t you want something a little stronger than that?”
The blonde tips a bottle of beer to her lips and takes a long drink, draining nearly a third of it.
“You know I need to focus on my grades.”
“Community college, here you come,” Sloane snickers.
Aubrey glares at her so-called bestie.
A strange sense of déjà vu hits me as I pause and frown, the words circling madly in my head. Aubrey and I are barely friends. I can’t remember the last time we actually engaged in a conversation and yet, I could swear she told me this. With narrowed eyes, I rack my brain, trying to figure it out. The answer is there, just within reach, but I can’t quite seem to grasp it.
“You partied too much and now you have to get your grades up or you won’t get into college,” I whisper. It’s a little freaky to hear the words echo in my head and yet be unable to recall where and when I heard them.
Fear flashes across Aubrey’s pretty face before it’s quickly masked behind a scowl.
Sloane tilts her head and eyes me as if I’m a circus oddity. “You’re so weird. What? Are you spying on her now?”
I blink and concentrate on the memory, trying to tease it free. “No, she told me,” I mutter, annoyed with myself for not being able to recall exactly when it happened.
The strange thing is that I can almost see the words coming out of her mouth. An image of Aubrey in her cheerleading uniform flickers in my brain. The last time she wore that was…
I straighten to my full height. “The night of Kingsley’s party.”
I remember.
Well…a snippet at least.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. We never even saw each other.” She smirks. “I heard you were blackout drunk and got it on with Jasper. Maybe you’re delusional.” Her expression fills with faux sympathy. “That’s so sad. You should probably get some help.”
No.
She’s wrong.
I shake my head and take a tentative step in her direction. “That’s not true. I barely drink, and we did have a conversation.” I squeeze my eyes tightly shut and try to conjure up the image again, searching my memories for more details. “We talked inside the house.”
It was…in the kitchen. The music had been pumping, reverberating in my ears. I’d just wanted to return to Austin. During the past week, no matter how much I thought about it, the only thing I could remember was sitting outside by the firepit.
We’d kissed.
Jasper had been lurking in the shadows.
And then…
It all fades to black. As if the memories have been wiped clean.
Only now do I realize I spoke with Aubrey. At least for a few minutes in the house. What took place afterward is anyone’s guess. I focus on our conversation from that night. Most of it is still a blur. What sticks out in my brain is that she needed to lay off the drinking and get her grades up.
With a shake of her head, she glances away. There’s a tightness to her jaw as her voice turns snappish. “Sorry, that never happened. I would remember if we talked.”
My brow furrows. “Are you sure?” It seems like such an insignificant thing. And yet, I need her to acknowledge it.
I’m so damn sure about it.
“Maybe Aubrey’s right and you need some serious help,” Sloane says with a laugh before swinging away and bailing on the conversation.
Disappointment floods through me.
Is she right?