“After graduation, spend time with your families, and don’t rush. Because we’ll be meeting on Rodeo Beach at midnight, and we will be partying until the sun rises!” Liam punctuated his announcement by throwing an elated fist into the air, spurring the crowd into an upheaval of roaring applause.
The senior girls sitting directly in front of me werealready tittering about what they all planned to wear for the night out. The boys to my right boasted about the alcohol they planned to snatch from their dad’s personal coolers and sneak to the beach.
And that there is the difference between men and women, ladies and gentlemen…
Trey and Liam proceeded with the rest of the rally program: a game of musical chairs made up of a few chosen faculty and students, followed by a dance routine put together by the cheer team. The cherry on top of the whole thing was the football team tackling their head coach, Coach Matthews, and slamming his face with a coconut cream pie.
Soon after that, to my delight, the rally was concluded, and everyone was excused to go home. I picked up my bag, said a quick goodbye to Hannah, then clomped down the bleachers, all while contemplating my plan of action for getting home unnoticed.
Option one: I could beat the boys to the Jeep and pretend to not exist in the back seat. Option two: I wait to see if they forgot about me entirely, allowing me to walk home alone. Thus, robbing me of the opportunity to humiliate myself in front of Trey again.
As I processed my options and concentrated on the steps down off the bleachers, I failed to notice the looming danger ahead. When I made it to the hardwood of the gym floor, a possessive, rough hand found its place at the small of my back.
Startled, but unfortunately, expectant of who I’d find, my gaze shot up to meet with the dark eyes of Clayton Thomas. The overpowering scent of too much aftershave singed my nose hairs as I gaped at the boy.
“Hey, Mason,” Clayton said, smirking at my alarmed reaction.
My body instantaneously tensed and froze. I hated the reaction my body gave him. The paralyzing instincts that glued my joints still.
“Can I help you?” I tried to bite out. I glanced sideways at the surrounding crowd of students, but the gathering was too thick and noisy for anyone to notice my unmistakable discomfort.
Clayton Thomas. Your generic, not all too original bully. A boy who felt he could get away with anything because of his daddy’s deep pockets. Pockets that offered up large sum donations to the school anytime Clayton found himself in a pickle with higher-ups.
The first time Clayton harassed me was behind the building at the end of junior year. I was scared, frozen then too, my only weapon being to glare at him with absolute disdain.
Thankfully, he didn’t get past grabbing a handful of my rear before a group of prying eyes came around the corner, scaring him off. I never saw who witnessed the situation. Humiliated, I hightailed it out of there almost immediately after Clayton.
The jerk hadn’t bothered me since then. He slid me an unwelcome wink here and there in the halls, making sure I knew he hadn’t forgotten about me, but he hadn’t been near as assertive or vocal. Which left me antsy and unnerved, wondering when he would strike next—until now.
His hand remained on my back with the delusional feeling of slime and snake scales against my skin. “I wanted to see if you’d be going to the bonfire after graduation. I’d love to see you there. Maybe we could hangout, and talk?”
He leaned in too close for comfort, but I didn’t move, didn’t push him away. I gripped the shoulder strap of my bag, knuckles white.
Clayton drew in closer, beginning to whisper something in my ear, but he halted abruptly. From the one hand still on my back, I could sense his body stiffen.
I peered up, tracking his gaze to—Trey. Clumped between a thick clutter of students, Trey’s piercing greenglare hit its mark. I’d never seen Trey look so intense.
The flexing hand on my back had me returning to Clayton. He had a fleeting look of fear, then frustration, before he slanted me a lazy grin that made me want to outright gag.
“See you around, Mason.” Then he was gone, and with him left the ice that coated my joints. I spun back to where Trey had been, but he was engrossed in conversation again. Like nothing between the three of us had occurred.
My heart kick-started with the deep inhale of fresh, untainted air I sucked into my depleted lungs. Without wasting a second more, I opted for option one. I beat the large ensemble of students out to the parking lot and waited in the unlocked Jeep for Liam and Trey.
Almost forty-five minutes later, the boys dragged themselves free of the cheerleaders and joined me in the car. I kept my head down, refusing to acknowledge either boy, hoping to keep any and all attention off myself.
Except, as we started on the road home, I swear I could feel Trey’s eyes on me. Like a sizzling awareness warming my skin. When we pulled up to the house, I exited the vehicle, this time, thank God, a lot more gracefully, and started up the driveway.
Before I could reach the front door, Liam finally brought me back into existence. “May, let mom know I went to the beach with Trey to surf. Thanks!”
I opened my mouth to reply, but the Jeep was already peeling down the road.
3 Stephanie Mason
Maybelle
My family's home was a humble spot. It had a cute red door with a white and black wood sign painted withMasonin bold letters atop the door frame.
I often thought it was a perfect sign to let anyone who might come lurking know exactly where we lived.
