CHAPTER 16
It turns out the beach club is at the actual beach. As in sand and seashells and big waves crashing every few seconds against the dock we’re all seated on. But this beach is private, part of the exclusive beach club that everyone except Miles and me seems to be members of.
If I had known the location beforehand, I’m not sure I would have left the house. Luckily, I’m too busy keeping an eye on Dominic, waiting for him to text someone about their meet-up location, to be freaked about the ocean. If only I had actually heard where this meeting location is… Behind something. That’s all I know.
When we got here, a waiter in dress pants and a bow tie served us fruity martinis and appetizers on the club’s dining patio.
I’ve done the country-club scene many times before but never as myself. Country-club jobs were a favorite of my dad’s. The cons didn’t involve much creativity, in my opinion. We were usually new in town, having just opened a new branch of our fictional family company, and looking for someone to sponsor our membership to the country club so that Daddy’s golf game wouldn’t suffer. Of course we always came with the highest recommendations from our previous country club. We made friends; we wined and dined. We came up with a way to get one of those rich, unsuspecting families to hand us a bunch of money. After that, we bolted, taking our fake company and new money with us.
“Is anyone going to fill me in on this tradition of yours?” I hear Miles say from a ways down the dock.
I look over, and he’s got a hand on Justice’s shoulder, then he leans in to her and whispers something right in her ear. A shiver runs up my spine just imagining being in her place.
God, I’m as bad as her and Chantel.
Speaking of Chantel… The second we drifted from the club’s patio to the beach, she and Jacob decided public make-out sessions in the sand were a turn-on, and now we’re all forced to keep our eyes away from their spot. Which is why we ended up on the dock—easier to keep our backs to them. I’m hoping they get some sand in hard-to-reach places.
Bret plops down beside me, his pants carefully rolled up. He’s got two drinks in his hands. “What do you think?”
“Of what?” I accept the drink from him but set it beside me. I’ve had enough already. “The rich kids’ club? It’s tolerable.”
“You’re funny.” He laughs and takes a gulp of his drink. “I mean the plan. Are you game?”
“Game for what?” I glance down at the beginning of the dock, checking to make sure Dominic is still there. When is he meeting this secret person?
Bret puts both hands on my shoulders, turning me out toward the water. He leans close and points a finger out at a lighthouse in the water. “Every year, on the last night of beach season, Justice, Chantel, Dominic, Jacob, and I swim out to that island.”
“To the lighthouse?” My stomach knots. “In the dark? The sign says no swimming after six p.m.”
“Scared of sharks?” Bret asks, leaning in again.
I am now. Among other things.
Behind me, Justice stands. She makes a big show of helping Miles to his feet. Dominic joins them, and the three of them remove their shoes and outer layers of clothing. Chantel and Jacob abandon their make-out spot and head onto the dock. I glance back at the twinkling lights on the beach club’s patio. Surely someone will see us and put a stop to this, right?
I slide back from the edge of the dock. I don’t know if I can watch. I turn my back to the water, but the sound of splashing from five people jumping in together is just as bad as seeing it. They’re all laughing. Loud as hell. Making no effort to keep this a secret activity. Maybe they’re too rich to get in trouble?
“I think I’ll stay up here, keep my hair dry,” I tell Bret. “Yell if you need anything.”
He laughs but doesn’t move to strip down like everyone else. Instead he slides closer to me. Like close close. “Maybe I’ll sit it out this year.”
Before I can get myself into the mind-set of a girl who wants Bret Thomas in her personal space, his lips are hovering over mine. I panic. A voice inside my head shouts, No no no. My heart thuds against my rib cage. Suddenly the ocean doesn’t look so scary.
“On second thought…” I take a step back from him and kick off my shoes. I turn. Run. And then I jump.
Off the end of the dock. Into the ocean.
The water isn’t as cold as I expected, but it tastes terrible. My head emerges, and I spit out a mouthful of salty water and tread. See? I can do this. I am doing this. I’m swimming. In the ocean.
Above me, on the dock, Bret is shaking his head like I’m crazy. “You forgot about your clothes!”
Right. That explains the drenched cotton weighing me down. The others are quite a ways ahead. Bret quickly strips down and plunges in.
“Beckett!” he shouts once his head surfaces. “Your ass is dead.”
A wave crashes over my face, and I fight to tread properly and keep my head above the water. The dock already seems far away. Shouldn’t the waves pull me back toward it?
“Not a chance,” Miles yells back. “In fact, I’m gonna float here like a lazy ass and let you catch up.”
Another wave, bigger this time, smacks me right in the face. Water shoots up my nose and I inhale, trying to get air, but more water charges into my lungs. I cough and try to turn my back to the waves.
“Ellie, get over here!” Justice says.
I can barely make out her bobbing head.
Relax, Ellie. Don’t fight the water. Go with it.
That was the first thing Aidan taught me once he figured out I couldn’t swim. I can’t swim. Yes, you can, you idiot. Even in the dark, the curve of an oncoming wave is distinct, and it’s obvious before it hits me that this one is turning rough.
My whole head goes under, my body tumbling. The world tilts itself, blurring the lines between up and down. Relax. You’re okay.
My lungs scream for a breath. Where is the surface? I try to open my eyes and see my way out, but the water stings so badly and everything is dark.
This is my arm and I’m putting it exactly where I want it. These are my legs and they’re kicking me back up above the water.
But none of that is happening, and in the panic, the only thing I can visualize is my body fighting the water last spring, in the apartment pool. And then Aidan’s hands grasping my shirt, bringing me up out of the water. But this isn’t a pool. It’s a giant ocean that goes on for thousands of miles. And I’m drowning in it.