Dedicated to Flower because she's an amazing friend, writer, and also gave me the sweetest dedication (: Check out her stories guys!

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Eighteen

          “Come on,” I giggle as I race down towards the water. Evan struggles behind me, only moving from my tugging on his hand. I trip as we near the water, almost doing a face plant before he grabs my waist and straightens me.

            “Bam, let’s go back.” He doesn’t sound the least bit happy.

            “Evan,” I whine, turning around to face him. My chin is tilted up and my mouth is pointed down as I beg him. “Please, please, please come swimming with me!”

            “Bam, you’re drunk.”

            “You’re drunk,” I snap.

            Evan rolls his eyes and pries his fingers from mine. “Wow, great comeback, Bam.”

            I fold my arms across my chest. “Fine, if you won’t come swimming with me, I’ll go on my own.”

            I storm off towards the water and hear him sigh from behind me. A grin plasters itself to my face as my bare feet tip toe in the cool water. I hug my sides as I wade in, briefly turning around to see if my plan worked.

            Evan’s facing the opposite way, pulling his shirt over his head. My expression grows blank as I stare, watching him throw it on the ground and tie his dark shorts a little tighter. When he starts to turn around I quickly spin back to the water, feeling my cheeks flush.

            I start to go in further, not waiting for him. I start to wonder what happened to Hadley as the water wets the bottom of my sweater.

            “Where’s Hadley?” I ask to no one in particular.

            I get no answer.

            I look down to see my sweater turning a darker shade of pink and stare at in shock. “It’s going to bleed,” I slur. “The colour is going to come out!”

            “Bam,” Evan says through clenched teeth. Like I am, he’s hugging his sides, obviously cold. I hadn’t realized that the water was this bad before, but now I feel like its freezing and my sweater is absorbing all of the cold.

            “My sweater is going to bleed,” I repeat.

            Evan sighs again, this time quieter than the repetitive sound that’s been leaving his mouth ever since I started to talk to him. “Then take it off,” he says simply. “You can bring it back to shore.”

            I life my arms up, watching as the water pours out from the seams. The fabric sags downward, making me feel heavier than usual. I feel like the sweater is going to drown me, as if it’s weighing me down; pulling me underneath the water.

            “I don’t want to get out of the water,” I state. I pull at the drooping fabric, feeling Evan’s eyes on me the entire time.

            “It’s cold,” he replies. When I don’t look up, he wades over to me and reaches out his hand with his palm facing upwards. “Then hand it to me. I’ll take it to shore.”

            Without thinking, I grab the ends of the fabric and pull the sweater up, up, up and over my head. It’s a struggle to get the sopping thing out of my face and mess of hair, but once it’s gone I’m able to wipe the water out of my eyes and see again.

            I giggle as my hair plasters against my forehead and I brush it away. Extending my arm, I hand over my sweater to Evan, landing the fabric perfectly in his palm. However, I don’t let go. He doesn’t grab onto it, like he should. He’s just staring down at my arm, not even realizing I’m waiting for him to take my pullover.

            “Why aren’t you-“

            I stop myself midsentence and stare down at my arm.

            Oh.

            My face turns a shade of red but not from embarrassment. Fear and anxiety washes over my quicker than the waves do and before I know it, I’m grabbing my sweater back and tearing away from Evan’s wide, shocked eyes.

            I screwed up really bad.

            Every part of me that was feeling buzzed before has now sobered up completely. I can fear the onset of tears coming fast now, without even the accomplice of bad thoughts. Instead all I can think in my head is that Evan knows.

            He knows he knows he knows.

            “Bam!” he calls from behind me, no longer stunned.

            He has just begun moving now, creating splashes as he struggles to fight his way through the water towards me. I start to reach the shore quicker than I thought and before I know it I’m running towards it, my legs kicking up water all around me.

            “Bam, please!”

            I keep running, doing my best to make it to my bag as quickly as I can. I pump my arms, push my legs, but everything feels too far away, as if I’m not moving at all. Despite feeling mentally sober, still my eyes deceive me.

            My stomach lurches as I bend over to get my bag and for a moment I grab my hair, intertwining my fingers in the locks. I feel like I’m going to throw up. Whether it be from what just happened or the drinking, I don’t know. I label it as both.

            When the feeling subsides slightly I reach inside to take out Evan’s sweater and drop it on one of the rocks. Inside I don’t have another sweater and with mine a soaked, tangled mess I don’t have time to put it on and get away from Evan at the same time.

            He still calls for me as I pick up my beach bag and throw it over my shoulder before taking off in a sprint. I bump into Hadley only a few feet away, her shocked eyes meeting mine. I hide the inside of my arms and mumble an excuse about feeling sick. It’s not entirely a lie.

            He knows.

            I hear his voice as he races me on the beach, desperately trying to catch up to me. I don’t want to turn around – don’t want to face him. And more than anything, I don’t want to explain. I screwed up worse than I ever have in my life and now I’ve ruined something that was – and could have been – good.

            I don’t know my way off the beach but all I want to do is get away from the party, the people, Evan, the truth; everything.

            My body collides with the sand and I land half on my purse. Music starts to play from my unplugged iPod, creating an eerie sound as I push myself to my feet. I risk a glance behind me for I begin running again and see that Evan and the bonfire are nowhere in sight. I’m completely alone, but still I jog towards what I think is the pavement of a road.

            When I reach the dark ground I double over, placing my hands on my knees as I gasp for air. My throat is hoarse from the running and crying, but as I wipe my eyes and cheeks with the back of my palm, I don’t stop running.

            I take turns down faintly familiar roads and somehow find my way to Highview. I look left and right, trying to remember the way home but I’m stuck. The only way I can remember is the small, dirt road where the crazy yard guy who also is the man who hit me with the truck lives. Still not completely sober, a mess of emotions and also exhausted, this seems like I’m walking in to a trap. I take a step towards the road and stop.

            “What am I doing?” I ask breathlessly.

            I shake my head and run my hand along my face, trying to calm down. My heart beats in my chest so loud that I can hear it in my ears and feel the movement in my chest, as if it’s trying to break free from my bones.

            I start walking slowly down the road to the left, feeling all of the muscles in my body ache. As much as I want to continue sprinting home – or at least trying to – I can’t. More than anything I want to stop moving, to stop continuing, to just sit down and stay there forever.

            I sink onto a grassy patch on the side of the road that belongs to whoever owns the cottage behind me. All the house lights are off in the neighbourhood, everyone long gone for bed. Only a streetlight sits at the end of the road, creating an illuminated circle around it. It doesn’t reach even close to me and I know it’s not smart to be in the darkness, but I can’t seem to find the will to move.

            Slowly, I let my head fall into my hands and my hands into my knees. Sobs begin to rock my body without warning and soon I’m crying as hard as I did that night after Cade’s funeral. I cannot believe what my life’s become. I cannot believe that Cade is really dead and never coming back. How could this happen? How could someone I loved the most – the person I was the closest to be torn from me in an instant?

            How could he have died?

            A headache quickly accompanies my crying but I don’t stop. Somehow, I can’t. The tears are coming out against my will and I wonder why this keeps happening, why I’ve gotten so upset since coming to Mermaid. Before, at home, I was fine. I was numb, never being happy and never being sad. But now I’m both and I don’t like it.

            “Well, what do we have here,” somebody slurs.

            I keep my head down and do not dare look up. They can’t know I’m here because it’s too dark out, and maybe if I ignore them, they’ll go away. It’s probably somebody who followed me from the party, but I don’t recognize the voice as a teenagers.

            The person nudges me with the boot and I almost topple over.

            I lift my head, feeling my hurt turn into anger. I’m seething as I look up at the man with my arms still folded around my knees. I recognize him now and fear settles itself into my stomach, though I do not dare let it show.

            “Get the hell away from me,” I snap at Craig.

            He’s towering over me now, trying to seem intimidating or else he’s too wasted to stand without teetering. Slowly he goes back and forth, back and forth, looking both very ticked off but also smug, like he has some kind of power over me.          

            “What do we have here,” he repeats, grinning with his messed up teeth. His breathe reeks of alcohol worse than mine and I move my head backwards, cringing at the smell.

            “We have a girl who’s going to call the cops if you do not get the hell away from me.” I narrow my eyes at him as my hands clench into fists. I want to punch him.

            “Come here.” He grabs my upper arm with a grip so tight that I yelp. Before I can scream or protest or even try to run away, he’s yanking me roughly to my feet, twisting my skin and causing new tears to spring to my eyes.

            “Let go of me!” I try to fight him but he doesn’t loosen his grip.

            He twists my arm until I’m inches from his face, choking on his putrid breath. He’s grinning, but it’s not happy. The smile is full of anger and the smug fact that he caught me with my guard down.

            “I hear you’re filing charges against me,” he says through clenched teeth.

            I try to get away but his fingers only tighten. “It’s not me, it’s my parents!”

            He laughs darkly and I wince at the sudden breath in my face. “You little bitch. Do you know what they will do to me if you win this? They will throw me in jail.” He shoves me closer to him and I smack into his thick chest. “You were in the middle of the road when I came around the corner.”

            I look at him with shock. “What?”

            “You were in the middle of the road,” he repeats. “I didn’t have time to stop because you were right there when I came around the corner.”

            I glare at him and try to back away, but again my attempt fails. “No!”

            His grin quickly changes into a scowl. He moves me closer to his face and for a moment I’m terrified that our noses are going to touch. “Repeat it after me, Alabama Reed. I was in the middle of the road. It is my fault.”

            The fact that he knows my name makes my face pale. I want to object, want to fight him but between being not quite sober and also exhausted, I don’t have any will. I have to give in, but not entirely. I don’t have to tell the police what he wants me to. I can simply say I will and then tell them also how he harassed me. Then I will never have to see crazy yard guy Craig Lee ever in my life again.

            “I was in the middle of the road,” I mimic, “It is my fault.”

            He smiles slightly. “You’re a smart girl, Alabama Reed. But I’m smarter.” He moves his grip on my arm higher up and spins me around until I’m facing the road and not his ugly, pudgy face. A quiet scream leaves my lips as he pushes my arm up towards my back, sending pain shooting through the bones all the way to my shoulder and collarbone. He’s going to break my arm.

            “Stop,” I cry. “Please!”

            He leans forward until I can feel his warm breath in my ear. “If you do not tell the police and your parents what I told you, I will find you. And you do not want to know what will happen when I find you, Alabama Reed.”

            I wish he would stop saying my name, like I’m some person he’s been hunting after his entire life. I wish he would let go of my arm and let me go. But more than anything I wish that this night had never happened.

            “Do you understand?”

            I feel breathless against the pain.

            Craig pushes my arm up slightly higher behind me.

            “Do you understand?” he yells.

            “Y-yes!” I’m full on crying from the pain now, so scared he’s going to break my arm.

            “Good,” he replies, however he doesn’t let me go just yet. “Because if you tell-“

            The sound of an oncoming car stops Craig in the middle of his threat. Instead of bolting and leaving me here crying like I expect him to, he freezes, as if he’s stunned. Headlights circle the bend up ahead by the streetlight and the high beams blanket us in bright, white light. I’m blinded and can’t see. As the car starts to slow, Craig senses he’s screwed and lets me go. As he takes off towards the opposite direction I fall onto my bare knees, letting the rocks and sand scrape them as I cradle my shoulder. I thought for sure it was going to be broken, however it hurts so much that I know it was almost ready to snap.

            The car screeches to a halt on the other side of the road but I can’t see whose inside from the light. The exterior is white and for a moment, I vaguely recognize the vehicle before somebody gets out of the driver’s side door.

            “Bam,” Evan gasps, slamming the door and jogging over to me. His blurry face comes into view past my tears as he crouches down in front of me, looking my body over. “Are you okay?”

            I can’t find the words. Today has been such a horrible day starting out with Cade’s mom, then Evan finding out my secret, Craig harassing me and now Evan finding me. I would say it’s been the worst day of my life but then I would be lying. I can think of two days that will always be worse than this.

            “I saw Craig,” he says, his voice harsher. “Did he hurt you? Bam, if he did anything to you, I’m taking you home and going after him, I swear to God.”

            I shake my head and let go of my arm. The pain is starting to subside but it might just be from the alcohol that remains in my stomach and blood stream.

            “I’m okay,” I say quietly.

            Evan helps me to my shaky feet and walks me over to his Jeep. Like a gentleman he opens my passenger door and even takes it upon himself to buckle me in. Once he closes the door with a thump I wrap my arms around myself and take a deep breath. I do not want to cry in front of Evan.

            “Do you want to phone the police?” he asks softly.

            I shake my head and tell him that Craig threatened me. Evan swears under his breath.

            “Do you want to go home?”

            I repeat my movement and turn to look out my window. The last place I want to go his home while not sober, crying and just a general mess. My hovering mother will have a fit and probably handcuff herself to me for the rest of our lives.

            “I can take you to my house,” he says. I look over him and see that he’s watching me with worried eyes. His hands don’t touch the wheel but instead stay limply in his lap. The Jeep isn’t on but the lights still blanket the street. “My mom won’t mind. Do you want to do that? We can figure out what to do tomorrow and tonight we can just hang around and rest. There’s movies, but we don’t have to watch them unless-“

            When I realize he’s rambling because he’s upset I interrupt him. “That sounds great.” I try a smile and Evan nods, relaxing a little.

            He starts up the Jeep.