When I think back to last night, I can't stop smiling.

Wren took me to get ice cream, even though we were shivering, and completely drenched. We found an undercover spot and stayed there for hours. Talking, kissing, and talking some more.

I stand at the end of the driveway, the searing sun beating down on me. I drag my hand across my brow, sweeping away the sweat that had gathered. Wren materialises at the end of the street. He strolls toward me in a pair of black board shorts and a towel over his shoulder.

"Hey," he greets with his cute smile and pretty eyes.

I can't stop staring at his lips. I want him to kiss me again.

"Hey," I smile.

I instantly reach for my wrist and mentally curse when my finger brushes the bare skin. No sleeves, again. I'm in a flowy dress that sits at the base of my throat, covering everything that I need it to. Underneath, I'm in my red bikini. The thought of stripping at the beach almost made me vomit this morning, but I forced myself to stop thinking about it. Wren has seen the scars. It doesn't matter. I don't have to answer any questions I don't want to.

"You okay?"

"Hmm?"

"You look like you're thinking hard over there," he says to me, his hand wrapping itself with mine. "This isn't about last night, is it?"

"I've been non-stop thinking about last night," I admit with a sheepish grin.

"Me too."

"Who's going to be at the beach?" I ask.

"Jay, and my two other mates, Connor and Keagan, and Keagan's girlfriend, Sherrie."

"Are they cool?"

"The coolest," he assures me with a sarcastic grin.

It's hot, I'm sweating, and my breathing is heavy. I hope he doesn't notice. My fingers twitch and I scratch the inside of my wrist.

"Don't do that."

"What?" I ask too quickly.

He pulls my fingers away, holding them firmly in his. "You don't have to be nervous or anxious about anything."

"Easier said than done." I hate that there is a bite to my voice.

"I know," he murmurs softly. "Sorry. I didn't mean it like that."

I blow out a breath. "This is hugely out of my comfort zone."

"You're doing great."

"Can you distract me?" I half-groan, my head swimming with thoughts, telling me to make an excuse to leave, and how I wish the ground would swallow me up.

"Gladly," says Wren, before his mouth is on mine.

I melt into him. Wren's hands find my waist and hold onto it tightly. I press into him, looping my arms around his neck. My towel slips off my shoulder. I tilt my head back and the kiss deepens. His tongue is warm and wet and slippery. He kisses down my jaw and onto my neck.

My insides coil and uncoil. I pull his face to mine and kiss him again.

We kiss for a long time and whatever I was worrying about before vanishes from my mind. His tongue possessively strokes mine and I groan into him.

"As much as I love this," he eventually pants. "We are going to be very late."

I blink back to reality. I sort of forget where we are and what we are doing. I shake my head.

"Right. Yeah. Beach."

He laughs. "Come on."

We arrive shortly after, and I'm desperate to get into the water and escape the heat. The sand burns my feet and I try not to show the pain on my face. We join the small group that is perched underneath a colourful umbrella with an esky beside them.

"Everyone, this is Addison. Addison, this is everyone," Wren lethargically waves a hand to the group.

"You owe me ten bucks," one of the guys says.

"Shit," the other one mutters, looking sour as he reaches into his wallet.

Noticing my curious gaze, the tall boy with sun-streaked hair grins. "We bet you weren't real, considering Wren has never given two shits about anyone else but himself before."

Wren hurls a stubby cooler at his friend, who shields himself just in time. He laughs, offering him a vulgar gesture.

"I'm Jay, by the way. The only name you need to remember."

"Fuck off," the girl scoffs, getting to her feet and brushing away sand from her amazingly long, tanned legs. "Hi. I'm Sherrie."

"Nice to meet you," I smile and try to look like a normal person.

One of the other boys tries to stand, and the other pushes his head down. "Connor. How do ya' do?"

"Ass," the other one mutters and rubs his head. "Keagan."

"Hi," I say shyly.

"I'm so excited to have another girl here!" Sherrie exclaims with a smile, before reaching into the esky and retrieving a coke. She has a giant rose tattoo stretched over her upper thigh.

I am being extremely awkward. I hate myself.

"Come for a swim with me," Wren says, dropping his towel.

My hands knock together as I remove my dress. Sherrie's eyes glance to my scars. Then the others do. Keagan and Conner exchange a glance. I feel the world shrinking around me. They realise I'm different. Weird. They're not going to like me.

Wren's hand curls around mine, and he tugs me towards the water.

In–one, two, three, out–one, two, three.

By the time the water laps over my toes, my heart is starting to beat normally again. The blurriness in my vision has faded.

The water feels like ice as we push deeper into the water. I leap on top of Wren and he stumbles and laughs, pulling me so that my legs are wrapped around him. He kisses me and it's wet and salty.

"You are so pretty, Addison," he tells me with a smile. "You have no idea."

I blush as red as my swimmers. I don't understand. Pale, plain, freckles, dull eyes.

"Do you realise that every time I give you a compliment, you look like I just ran over your foot with a car?" he chuckles.

I try to relax, but it doesn't work. I smile, though, hugging myself tighter to him.

"Incoming!" a voice bellows before Wren and I are tackled, falling over in a tangle of limbs in the water. I gulp in a mouthful of water and emerge, spluttering, my hair sticking to me unattractively.

Wren roars at Connor, before slamming into him. The two start wrestling and splashing, each trying to shove the other under the water. Sherrie and Keagan appear shortly after, shaking their heads.

"Boys," Sherrie rolls her eyes. "Love your swimmers, by the way!"

"Thanks," I smile. I want to compliment her back, but the words get stuck in my throat.

I notice her eyes on my scars and I sink lower into the water, hoping I'm covered. I shiver, from the cold, maybe, but mainly from nerves.

Sherrie and I retire back to the sand sometime later, while the boys continue to tackle each other and jump waves. We sprawl out on the towels in the sun.

"It's so weird to see Wren with a girl," Sherrie shakes her head. "Seriously. So. Weird."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

I don't know what else to say.

"What's with the scars?" she asks. "They're pretty gnarly."

I swallow. My head is light. My knees wobble together and I straighten my legs.

My tongue is too dry. I can't speak. I close my eyes and screaming fills my head.

"Um. Okay." Sherrie says when I don't answer. "Personal. Got it."

"Sorry," I choke out.

"It's my bad."

I feel her eyes on me. My chest is heaving. I'm sweating again.

"You live around here?" she asks.

"I did. About ten minutes from here."

"Where do you live now?"

"Downright High."

"Oh," says Sherrie with a pitying expression. "That sucks."

"You?"

"Just around the corner. My father has a mansion that overlooks the water."

"Really?"

"Fuck no," she laughs, tossing her raven-black hair over her shoulders. "I live in a shack. A dump, rather, on Compton Avenue."

Compton Avenue is a notorious street for gangs, drug dealers, and thieves. Eileen has warned me many times to never go near there. I went to a house party there about six months ago and I think I accidentally smoked crystal meth because I blacked out for almost forty-two hours and woke up mid-conversation with an old, homeless man in someone's basement. It was possibly the most terrifying night of my life. What I recall of it, anyway.

The boys return to us, and Connor shakes his hair, sending water droplets soaring in our directions. I flinch at the feel of them and Sherrie kicks out at him, spraying sand up his legs.

Wren collapses half on me, half on my towel, his wet body slick against mine.

"Hi."

"Hi," I say.

"I'm hungry."

"Me too."

"Let's go get burgers?" he suggests.

"Sure."

"Hey, where's my invite?" Connor protests. "I'm hungry, too."

"When are you not hungry?" Jay rolls his eyes. I forgot about Jay for a moment. He hadn't been in the water; he must have been lying underneath the umbrella. He's rolling a cigarette, using the esky as a tabletop.

They share the cigarette and I for once don't feel like one, before towelling off and heading up to the car park. Jay and Keagan have their cars, so we split into two groups to drive to the restaurant. I feel more at ease now that I'm re-dressed. I hug my towel around me as extra security.

"Mustn't be many good-looking roosters at the school if you've ended up with this ugly mug," Jay throws his thumb over his shoulder toward Wren.

I almost want to point out that Wren is the far most attractive boy of the group, but I know he is only joking.

"Come off it," Wren scoffs.

"You like tequila, Addison?"

"Sure," I answer.

"We're going to get along just fine," he nods at me, pulling into a run-down car park. He parks in a spot that clearly says 'no parking'.

The restaurant is stuffy and hot when we enter. We find a booth at the back and my skin sticks to the leather seats uncomfortably.

I peer down at the menu. Wren's hand finds my thigh and I relax a little at his touch.

The others join us, sliding into the booth, making it a little jammed. They're loud and obnoxious, but I like them.

"In case you get sick of this lug," Connor curves his hand around his mouth and leans close to me. "I'm single."

Wren hurtles a coaster at him, smacking him in the eye.

"Ow," he complains.

I laugh. "Thanks, Connor. I'll keep that in mind."

"Hey!" Wren protests.

Wren is much more easy-going with these friends over the ones back at school. It's nice to see him relaxed and enjoying himself.

The bell above the entrance chimes and the group fall noticeably silent. I peer around at them and look at what their gaze is directed at. An officer strolls inside, surveying the small restaurant.

"Fuck," I hear Wren sigh. He quickly hunkers down in his seat, but it's too late. The officer smirks when he sees the group. He meanders toward us, spit flying from his mouth as he chews gum, his hands resting on his belt.

"Wren."

There's a deep scowl on Wren's face as his icy eyes flicker to the man who is towering over us.

The smaller officer beside him hands something to him, and the first officer waves it.

"This yours, mate?"

My heart trips inside my chest. The beanie.

"No." Wren doesn't even look at it.

The man smiles. It's not a pleasant smile. "You sure? I'm quite positive I've seen you in it."

It has a white, distinguishable crown, which looks like it is shaped like a 'W' when worn the way Wren wears it. It's definitely Wren's beanie from last night.

"Never seen it before."

"Right," the officer nods. "Belong to any of you?" His eyes move around the group. Everyone shakes their heads. His eyes land on me and he tilts his head. "You're new."

I swallow. My ears are ringing. I'm sweating again.

"It's not mine. It's not anyone's here. We've answered your questions," Wren bites out, clearly struggling to keep a lid on his self-control.

The man's smile widens. "Okay. Sure. I'll leave you alone." He leans his weight onto the table and it creaks beneath him. "For now." His eyes find mine again. "You look damn familiar, girl."

I can't breathe.

"Thought you were leaving?" Wren growls.

The officer straightens, his eyes sweeping the group once more before he nods.

"Give your mother my best, would you?"

I hear something snap. I glance down to see the plastic coaster in Wren's hands now split down the middle. His knuckles are white as he grips it. The man smiles somehow even bigger before he nods to the other officer and they exit the restaurant.

"What a prick," Sherrie shakes her head, the corners of her lips tugged down.

"Who is he?" I whisper.

"One of the boyfriends," Wren lets out a sharp breath and snaps the other two halves that he is holding. He flattens his hands onto the tables to stop them from shaking.

"It's okay," I say to him, placing my palm on his thigh. "He's gone now."

"That was your beanie though, yeah?" Jay questions. "Where did he find it?"

"In a place it shouldn't have been found."

Jay tsks his tongue and takes a long drink. "You need to be careful when you've got a watchdog."

"I need a cigarette," Wren mutters, pushing from the booth and striding outside.

I leave him be. I'm too shaky to stand. Police officers are a huge trigger for me. They found me. Carried me from the house. Tested my body. Asked me questions. My stomach twists as I think about it all. I push it back in my mind. In–one, two, three, out–one, two, three.

My phone rings and I see Constance's name across the screen. I silence it. I'll call her back when I'm home.

A minute later, a text comes through.

Constance: We need to talk.

My stomach sinks.

Shit.

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Thoughts? :)