× Horan

"This is my most prized possession," Lynn said, her arms outstretch to their full length.

I looked at the piece of junk in front of me. It was a yellow 1978 Wrangler Jeep and it was the most hideous thing I had ever seen. The exterior was clean and shiny; the black tarp was intact for the most part, except for a few wear and tears here and there. But it was so retro looking that it was just hard to gaze at without cringing.

"It was my dad's before he got his Dodge Durango," she continued as she ran her hand along the hood of the Jeep. "He gave it to me when I got my license when I was sixteen. I fell in love with it, even more now that he's gone."

I wanted to ask where her dad's Durango went, but I decided that wasn't very important at the moment.

"Is it even safe to drive?" I asked, stepping to the side and eyeing the rusted patches at the bottom edges. "It looks like a death trap."

"Perfectly safe," she confirmed, but from the way she was looking at me wasn't all that reassuring. "Been driving it for years. Hop in while I grab my surfboard."

I went to the passenger side door and opened it. I paused in place and eyed the car, a little confused, only to remember that I wasn't in London anymore and that the steering wheel on the opposite side of the car was completely normal.

From the other side of the garage, Lynn laughed. "The passenger seat is on the other side," she said with a stupid grin on her face. Then in a lower, mocking voice she added, "You're in California now. Things are different here."

She was quoting me from when I picked her up at the airport when she first arrived to London. She had done the same thing as I just did, and it kind of surprised me that she even remembered that. Then it surprised me even more that I remembered that.

I ignored her comment and walked to the other side and climbed in. The first thing I saw was the stick shift and my nerves heightened. Not only was this car old as dirt, but Lynn was going to be driving a stick shift? I should just do my prayers now.

The interior was shockingly nice, obviously updated for the times. The seats were a light gray fabric and the middle counsel was a black plastic. Out of curiosity, I opened the lid of the counsel and peeked inside as Lynn continued to gather her things and put it in the trunk. I saw old gum wrappers, a hand mirror, a dozen pens, mints, about five dollars in change, old movie tickets, and outdated melted chocolate kisses.

"Look out," Lynn said just as something large and white shoved through between the seats. It took me a second to realize it was a surfboard.

During breakfast that morning Lynn announced that she was going to the beach to meet up with her friends and that I didn't have a choice but to tag along. It was either that or stay inside all day with Lynn's grandma and risk her giving me another palm reading. I could explore the city on my own, but I actually kind of wanted to see the beach, and what better time to do that when Lynn was going to be wearing a swimsuit.

Lynn hopped into the driver seat and started the ignition. It took a couple of tries for it to stick, but Lynn didn't seem too worried about it. "It's been a long time since anyone drove it," she explained.

It made sense, but I still wasn't too happy that we were taking this shitty car when there was a perfectly good red PT Cruiser in the driveway.

Then we were on our way. I watched Lynn as she drove, making sure she was doing everything she was supposed to. Having Lynn be reckless on top of everything else was just going to send my anxieties over the edge.

What Lynn was wearing was rather distracting. She had come out of her room in a tiny little white two piece with only a cream knitted cardigan over the top, like that was going to do much skin covering. And I knew that it wasn't doing its job because I found myself looking at Lynn's tanned legs and up to her shoulder where the cardigan had slipped down. Her caramel hair was in beach waves and split down the middle in messy pigtails, loose strands sticking to her full lips as the wind blew through the rolled down windows.

Then I looked down at my own choice of clothing. Jean shorts and a white V-neck with the sleeves cuffed along with a pair of trainers. It was rather boring, but in my defense I didn't exactly pack to go to the beach. At least I wore my hair different. I didn't bother with the typical up-do and instead just let it fall naturally. It had begun to get long, so I was starting to regret that decision as some pieces fell into my eyes.

We continued our way down the roads of LA with all the windows down. I saw mountains in the distance surrounding the city, roads lined with palm trees and bordered by the Pacific Ocean. 7-Eleven's were on every corner and people wearing tank tops and shorts were milling around even though it was the middle of December. The sun was high and bright, reminding me why California never gets any snow.

Twenty minutes later we were out of the jeep and walking toward the beach. Lynn had her surfboard under her arm as she walked beside me. I carried her heavy drawstring UCLA bag that held all her equipment.

"Santa Monica Beach," Lynn said the second our bare feet touched the sand. With every step we took, the sand shifted underneath us, the fine grains giving me warmth from the sun's rays. "During the summer I practically lived here. My friends and I would kick around a soccer ball or have bonfires. More than once I woke up on the sand from a long night out."

The ocean waves rolled in white ripples, spreading themselves over the beach after they crash against the shore. Every hundred feet stood lifeguard stands, the guards either standing out front or sitting in a wooden chair, looking out at the ocean with watchful eyes. In the distance I could see the pier; a large roller-coaster and a Ferris wheel were the two biggest attractions that stood out through the fog.

"This heat is rare in December," Lynn spoke up, looking around to find a clear spot on the sand. "On average it's in the sixties, but not the lower eighties. That's spring weather here."

Lynn dropped her surfboard on the sand and crossed her arms, looking out at the ocean like lost memories were resurfacing. She seemed to glow under the hot rays, her skin resembled smooth honey. My self-control out the window, I reached toward her and brushed away a strand of hair from her face.

"It's hot because you're here," I teased.

"Ha-ha," she said sarcastically and took my hand away from her face, but not before I saw the trail of goosebumps up her neck and arms. "Hand me my bag, please," she said and reached out for the drawstring in my hands. I handed it to her as she sat down on the beach and dug through the contents.

I sat down beside her. "How come I never knew that you surfed?"

The first thing she took out looked like a white hockey puck, and then followed by an oddly shaped comb. "It never came up in conversation," she simply stated.

A pair of swim shorts, something that resembled a dog leash, and a black traction pad later, the bag was left with only snacks and water bottles inside.

"You seem to surf a lot," I said. "I'm sure it would have come up at some point."

Lynn grabbed the thing that resembled a hockey puck and started unwrapping it. "Like you said before, Niall, there's a lot you don't know about me."

"I'd like to change that."

She stopped what she was doing and stared at me. She opened her mouth to say something, but at the last second changed her mind and started rubbing the hockey puck thing against her board in a crisscross motion.

I quickly learned that the puck was actually a surf wax, just like the weird looking comb was for removing it once she was finished. The dog leash attaches to the board which then is Velcroed to Lynn's ankle so the surfboard doesn't float astray when she wipes out.

We sat there in silence as she continued to prep her board. A group of girls walked past in skimpy bikinis, eyeing Lynn suspiciously before smiling flirtatiously in my direction. I barely gave them a glance before they kept walking away. Kids ran around us, kicking up sand and giggling without a care in the world. The smell of sea salt and deep-fried food filled the air and distant screams from the rollercoaster was heard throughout the beach.

"Shit," Lynn said under her breath.

I looked over to find her staring out at the shore a few miles away. It was hard to pinpoint who exactly she was looking at because there were a lot of people walking around, but whoever it was, it made Lynn tense up beside me.

"What?" I asked, leaning in close to her. "Is it Bradley?"

Lynn shook her head. "No," she said slowly. "Do you remember Katie?"

"The girl who tripped you last year?" I asked.

Even as I said that, I instantly picked her out of all the people milling around the beach. I'd only seen her once in person at that unfortunate party my big mouth got me involved with a few months ago at a frat house, and a few times on the telly a year ago after the incident with Lynn, but there was no denying that scrawl on the girl's face.

"Who's with her?" I asked.

Lynn laughed darkly. "Her cousin."

The memory of Coach telling the team the story of Lynn and Katie surfaced in my mind. Everyone had heard of the story, it was on every sports news station for the longest time. The rumor was that Katie's relative was the referee and purposely didn't call the red card for Katie's benefit. Could that rumor be true, and was this the relative?

The two of us watched them closely, making their way further and further away down the beach.

"I'm going to the water," Lynn said as she stood up with her board. All her things were packed in her bag once again. I also noticed that she had on her swim shorts and had lost the cardigan. "Feel free to explore, just text me where you're at if you leave."

"What if I wanted to explore with you?" I asked.

She snorted. "You're on a beach with half naked women all around you. I really don't think you want to spend your time with me."

Before I could even respond, she was running away toward the water's edge, surfboard under her arm. I had no idea how she got the idea that I didn't want to spend time with her. I mean, I came to California with her, for fuck's sake. There might be attractive women in nothing but a swimsuit looking for a good time, but that's not why I went there.

I sighed and leaned back on my hands, digging my toes into the little pebbles as Lynn stepped into the water and slid onto her board, paddling out to the deep. To me the water looked calm, but Lynn seemed to find the waves just fine. She would be on top of a trend only to find herself in the middle of the loop of them, the waves spitting her out at the end. I was surprised, watching her out there on her board like she owned the waters. She was skilled, no doubt about that, and she seemed at home as the water took her away.

"Enjoying the show?" I heard someone say from behind me.

I looked over my shoulder to see two girls squinting through the sun's rays. One had long, dark brown hair and vibrant blue eyes where the other had medium, jet black hair and golden eyes. I instantly recalled them being Lynn's teammates, but I couldn't for the life of me remember their names.

"She's a fucking pro," the other one said, looking out over the ocean at Lynn. "I don't know a damn thing that girl can't do."

"Cook," the first girl said. "She can't cook to save a life. Have you tried her spaghetti? If you haven't then I'm warning you now: don't."

"Her omelets are to die for, though."

The girl with the brown hair took a seat beside me in the sand, pulling her tanned legs up to her chest. She was strikingly beautiful. She had perfect skin and a cute upturned nose that reminded me of a fairy. Her eyebrows were thick and neatly groomed and makeup done to perfection. It was clear she took pride her in appearance and it made me wonder what she was trying to prove.

"To be fair, neither can you," she said. "You can't even cook toast."

The first girl sat down on the other side of me. "First of all, you don't 'cook' toast, you toast it, obviously. And secondly, all the toasters that I use are always broken. So of course they burn."

"That's just an excuse."

"Like you're so much better at it."

Before they could continue their bickering back and forth, I cleared my throat rather loudly, making the two of them look over at me like they just remembered I was there.

"Can I help you?" I asked, not even bothering to hide my irritation.

The girl with the golden eyes had a floral sleeve tattoo and a silver septum piercing. "I don't think he remembers us, Macey," she said, not taking her eyes off me.

The other girl leaned in close. "I don't see how that's possible, Emily," she said with a slow grin forming on her plump lips. "We're hard to forget."

"I know who you are," I defended and sat back a little. Their presence together was a little intimidating. "I just find it frustrating that you would bicker while I'm sitting right here."

"Being needy isn't an attractive look, you know," Emily said.

"But apparently Lynn seems to like it on you," Macey added. "Going off everything you two did and all..."

I looked at both of them in turn. "You know that Lynn and I had sex?"

I knew from the moment those words left my mouth that I fucked up. First rule of getting information is to not give them the info you already have. And I just blew that.

"What!?" they said in unison, and then suddenly I had their full attention.

Clearly they didn't know everything that had happened in London, and I wondered how much they did know. But at that point, it was too late to go back because the truth was out and there wasn't any way to take back my words.

Lynn was going to kick my ass.

"Hold on," Macey said as she repositioned herself in the sand so she was looking at me straight on. "Back the fuck up, you two did what now?"

I debated if my best weapon was to stay silent or just walk away, and from the looks on their faces, I knew that staying silent wasn't going to get me anywhere and I was out numbered to even try to run away.

Macey sat forward. "I'm pretty sure I heard you wrong," she said. "Lynn would never have sex with someone knowing it would put her future at risk. Soccer is her everything, either you're lying or Lynn has lost her goddamn mind."

"Maybe her plans changed," I defended. "Maybe she's not interested in football anymore and could care less about getting caught."

Emily just shook her head. "Impossible. She grew up with the sport - her dad played it and her brother played it. They had a game on the TV every weekend and threw small parties at their place during the FIFA World Cups ever since she was little. It's literally her whole life; she wouldn't give it up. Not for you, anyways."

Her words stung, but she was right. Even if Lynn's passion had changed, it wasn't because of me and I was stupid to even let that thought grace my mind.

And then Macey started laughing from beside me, amusement clear on her face. "That only leaves one other option then," she said between her giggles. "You must have convinced Lynn that you were a good fuck. I have to ask for details..."

Thinking back at the times Lynn and I were together - on her bed and backstage on an amplifier - I wondered if Lynn was the type of girl to fuck and tell. She obviously told them about all the other times when we were together, probably from the very first kiss up to that drunken blow job she had given me after a victory game. But it wasn't like I could get mad at her for telling her friends because I told Jace all the same.

I expected Emily to play along with her friend, but when I looked over at the tattooed girl, I found she was already looking at me, any enjoyment that might have been on her face before was well gone.

"There she is now!" Macey shouted, looking over her shoulder as Lynn emerged from the ocean, surfboard under her arm. "I'm going to go help her."

As soon as Macey was out of earshot, Emily leaned closer to me so I had no choice but to look at her. The fire in her dark eyes made me want to look away, but she didn't give me the option to back down.

"Do you remember what I told you when I was in London last?" she asked. "About how I had a brother who was just like you?"

I nodded, briefly remembering the party - there was a girl doing body shots, a long conversation with a wasted Jace, and, oh yeah, my panic attack. "I remember."

"Lynn's brother isn't here right now, so I don't have a choice but to take over his spot," Emily started. "As Lynn's friend, I have to tell you this. If you ever hurt her, if you cause her any unhappiness of any kind, I will hunt you down and kick your ass."

I couldn't help but feel a little offended. "What makes you think I would hurt her?"

"For the same reason I did when I warned you the first time," she pressed. "You sleep around, Niall, just like my brother did. He used to play the same games you play now, and guess what? He created a reputation for himself. He can't seem to find someone to settle down with and get married and have kids because he's known to hurt people he's with. Why should I think you're any different then him?"

I could have told her that I hadn't been with another girl for a month, and that I'd slept with Lynn twice and had done things I had never done with another girl before. I could have told her that it was the best sex I had and that I had no intention of leaving. But I didn't tell her any of those things because she didn't need to know. What goes on in my life was my business, not hers, and if she thinks I'm such a scum, then who was I to tell her any differently?

"Your brother sounds like someone I know," I said.

Emily snorted bitterly, like she was hoping I would connect the dots sooner. "That's because you do," she explained. "My brother is Jason Lawtherd."

I couldn't help but laugh. This was a joke right? Lawtherd, my English professor, couldn't be one of Lynn's best friend's brother. That was way too coincidental to be real. Besides, the two of them didn't look anything alike to be related, like their skin color for example. Emily's skin was a nice bronze and Lawtherd was one of the palest people I knew (and that was me and my Irish skin included). And they didn't even have the same last names. There was just no way. But Emily didn't give off anything that she was lying.

My humorous smile faded. "Are you serious?"

"He's my stepbrother," she clarified. "His dad married my mom about four years ago. After Jason graduated from college, he moved to London to start new, picked up miscellaneous jobs, and eventually got a professor position. No idea how he managed that, probably slept his way into it for all I know."

"Does Lynn know that you're related?" I asked.

Emily shook her head. "No. She doesn't even know I have a step brother."

I almost opened my mouth to ask why she doesn't know, but I kept it shut. I out of anyone should know that keeping part of your family a secret might just make you better off. And I respected whatever reason it was that she kept this from her friend.

"Enough about that," Emily interrupted, making me turn to look at her again. "I also wanted to warn you. I know that you know about Bradley, but you only know half of it. One of the reasons she was with him was because she was afraid to leave him... to be alone. It might psychologically have to do with her parents or something, but she's always going to feel that insecurity. She's going to back away when things go a little too fast and she might even over analyze some things that you do. Just know that it's not your fault."

I thought back at all the times we got close and she would always leave abruptly. The time she kissed me in my bed to the time she told me to stop when we were on the floor of my room. I always thought it was because of me and how it was forbidden between us, which I was sure was part of it, but Bradley tainted it, too.

"But you can help her," Emily continued. "Give her that confidence that she won't be alone, the security she needs. She was with Bradley because she felt needed, give her that and she won't feel afraid anymore."

Emily was about to say something else, but before she could, Macey returned with a pissed off looking Lynn. She was glaring at me and it didn't take a genius to know that I had spilled the beans and she was very much ready to kick my ass for it.

"We need to talk," she said sternly.