How can Griffin make me feel so good and so rotten at the same time? Why did he go back to Adara? Does she have something I don’t—other than bleached blonde hair and a cheerleader uniform?
Does she, like Mitzi Busch, offer something I haven’t?
When he said he didn’t know why he’d stayed with her so long, I’d believed him. When he told me about his mom’s oracle reading, I’d really thought we’d be together forever. I’d thought he was my one.
Had I really been such a fool?
With only a hint of a moon out tonight, I can barely see the path down to the dock. It’s only because I’ve climbed this path dozens of times that I make it to the bottom without stumbling. Usually I take a right, to the long stretch of perfect white beach that just screams for a run. But tonight the tide is really low and there’s a thin sliver of shore leading off to the left.
Without another thought, I head left. The strip of sand—still wet from a higher tide and solid beneath my Nikes—winds beneath the cliffs and the village perched overhead. It’s quiet and secluded—the beach isn’t usually bustling with activity after dark unless it’s bonfire night—and it’s a relief to know I won’t be running into anyone. Company is the last thing I’m looking for. As I hurdle a low rock outcropping, I think about my promise to Nola. She always gives people second chances. And third and fourth and fifth chances. So it’s not exactly a surprise that she wants me to give Griff a second opportunity to explain. I don’t want to—I feel like I’ve already given him tons of opportunities—but I can’t break a promise. Not to Nola.
I’m just wondering how to go about giving Griffin another chance to explain—do I go after him, or do I wait until he comes to me?—when I feel water slosh over my Nikes.
“What the—?”
I look down. The sliver of beach is two feet thinner than when I started out. I hope it just naturally narrows down as it goes. But a quick glance behind me reveals that the entire strip of beach is disappearing. About a hundred yards back, it’s completely gone. Which can only mean one thing.
“Rising tides,” I exclaim.
How could I have been so stupid? If the tide is low and I’m suddenly seeing a beach that’s never been there before, it’s probably because it’s not there during high tide. “Stupid, stupid, stupid.”
I have to decide quickly what to do, because it’s not like I can scale the cliffs if the tide comes in. Behind me, the beach is already underwater. My only choice is to press on and hope the beach opens up around the curve up ahead.
Kicking into a sprint, I try to calm my racing heart. Fear sends adrenaline pumping through my blood, and that’s only going to cloud my judgment.
I’ve never been a short-distance dasher, but I make the two hundred yards to the curve in the beach in record time.
My calves are on fire and my heart is racing out of control. I’ve never felt so keyed up.
As I speed around the rocks, I heave a huge gasp of relief. There’s a nice wide beach, deep enough to stick around for high tide. Some of it even looks familiar.
There’s a cluster of bushes along the cliff wall that I know I’ve seen before. I remember—it’s the beach where Griffin took me when we made up last fall. The last training session before the Cycladian Cup.
That’s when I know that one day I’ll thank Nola for making me give Griffin a second chance. The memory of how great it felt to know he cared about me, how great it felt to take his hand and know that nothing stood between us anymore. I want that again.
“What do you mean you didn’t tell her?” a muffled female voice demands.
I’m not sure what makes me do it—instinct, fear, or knowledge beyond my years—but I dive behind a big boulder. I hear the sound of footsteps on gravel and then silence. Whoever was talking must have just reached the beach.
“How could I?” an intimately familiar male voice replies.
Griffin.
“She still doesn’t trust me,” he says. “She thinks I’m cheating on her.”
“Oh, and not telling her what’s going on is definitely going to make that better.”
Is that Adara? I can’t see for sure. I dare a peek around the edge of the boulder and catch a glimpse of blonde. Her back is to me, so I can’t tell. But it has to be . . . right?
“I know that, Nicole,” he says.
Nicole?
Everything crashes to a stop. There’s no wind whistling through the trees. No waves crashing on the beach. No breath leaving my body.
“You can’t tell Phoebe,” he says. “If she knew what was going on, then she might . . .”
The rest of his sentence gets lost as the world rushes back to life around me. There’s a roaring in my ears that I can’t shake away. Then my hearing finally clears as he says, “I don’t want her to get hurt.”
Why does Nicole know the secret I’m not allowed to know? And why would whatever they’re doing wind up hurting me? It’s bad enough knowing Griffin has betrayed me with Adara. I expect that from her and should have known better about him. But Nicole? She is the closest thing I have to a best friend on this island.
How could they do this to me?
In that instant, my mind focuses entirely on one thing: getting away from this beach. Away from where I learned about this latest betrayal. Away, away, away.
Eyes closed, I feel a tingling spread over my skin.
When I blink open, I’m in my room.