I hop into Ryan's truck, taking in his suntan and pretty eyes. The tan makes the color pop even more.

He's cute, it's a shame I'm not taking this date seriously.

"Cat got your tongue?" I quip, smirking at his gaze locked on my bra-less chest.

Adam's apple bobbing, Ryan quickly meets my stare. "You look... good." He gulps. "Really good."

Turning to put on my seatbelt, I roll my eyes out the window. "Glad I impress. So where are you taking me, Ryan?"

"Well, Dylan." He finally backs out of Grams driveway, "I thought we could go for dinner. I've heard the best place for surf-in-turf is right by the pier-"

"Harry's?" I scrunch my nose. "I don't like seafood."

Ryan's face falls as he stops at the intersection that will bring us to the pier. "You live by the ocean and you don't eat fish?"

"I know," I sigh. "I'm a conundrum."

"Okay, well that's fine." Ryan sounds unsure. "Where do you recommend, then? You know the good spots better than me, I'm sure."

I think for a second, trying to recall places we'd frequent without bringing certain faces to mind.

"Do you like burgers?"

"Who doesn't?" He replies easily.

"Great." I lean back, sticking my hand out the open window. "Take a right."

***

"And that," Ryan pulls a Cherry-stem from his mouth, "is how it's done."

His smirk is proud.

Silly boy.

Seductively slipping my tongue through my lips, I pluck my stem with my thumb and index finger. Holding it out so he can see it clearly, I reveal not one, but two perfectly tied knots.

"No, Ryan." I lap sweet cherry juice from my lips, "That is how it's done."

"How'd you do that?" His eyes shift from the stem to my mouth.

"Practice." A half-lie. Practice and Luke Henson as a teacher. He doesn't need to know that, though.

With a large gulp, he rasps. "Okay, you win."

Shoving my empty sundae dish to the center of the table, atop our empty burger and fry baskets, beside the couple of empty margarita glasses, I cross my arms over my chest.

"What do I win, exactly?" I ask, emboldened by my tipsyness.

Ryan smirks, reaching across the table to grab my wrist. Lacing his fingers through mine, he murmurs, "How about a kiss?"

Pulling my hand away, I stifle a chuckle. "Corny. And I'm pretty sure you were hoping to give me one of those anyway."

I lean forward, eyes teasing him as I bat my lashes.

Maybe I shouldn't, but at the moment, I'm having fun. My gaze trails down his strong jaw, his tan neck, down the straight line of his shoulders, the muscles straining beneath the cotton fabric of his tee.

Maybe having fun for one night wouldn't be so bad.

"Maybe you're right." Ryan laughs, beckoning our waiter to the table. "Are you ready to get going?"

"Depends." I twirl my hair around my finger. "Do you have more planned or are you taking me home?"

His eyes twinkle. "Whatever you prefer."

The eye contact is intense, the sexual tension palpable in the air between us.

"How was everything?" The waiter, a young woman in a bright yellow shirt and green baseball cap, asks, breaking our trance.

"Everything was great." I say truthfully.

And it was. Ryan is typical, but easy to talk to. He told me stories of his frat house on campus, the summer vacations he takes with his family, and the many plans he has for opening his own business.

So naive to the darkness in the world, he was refreshing to talk to for the couple of hours we spent at the burger shack.

Now the urge keeping me with him is a physical one.

"Shall we?" Ryan murmurs, pulling my chair out so that I can stand.

"Mind if I use the restroom?" I ask, hoping to double check for stray lettuce in my teeth or anything of the sort.

Ryan nods, telling me he'll wait by the car, and I scurry to the ladies room to freshen up.

Having peed, swished my mouth out, and wet wiped all private areas, I stare at myself in the mirror, wondering if I'm being totally crazy.

My eyes, alight with curiosity and piqued sexual interest, still seem sad.

Shaking it away, I turn from my reflection and hurry out to Ryan's truck.

"So I was thinking, why don't we hit the beach?" Ryan offers. "Enjoy the ocean without all of the crowds?"

"Sure," I smile, staring out at the darkness around us.

This is one of my favorite times to visit the beach, the sand cool against my feet, the sky free of screeching gulls so the only sound is the gentle lapping of waves on the shore. It's perfect.

And relatively empty. A perfect place to get a little handsy.

Ryan grins back, starting the engine. His truck roars to life and he navigates through the town as though he's already familiar with its roads. I guess it's easy to be, in a town so small. He must've made good use of his vacation.

"Go straight through this intersection." I instruct, heartbeat quickening a bit.

Instead, Ryan turns his truck to the right. My heart begins to pound.

"No, you were supposed to go straight," I squirm in my seat, looking over my shoulder.

"This way's quicker," Ryan shrugs. "I checked the GPS while you were in the bathroom." He winks at me. "Private roads make great short cuts."

"No, really." I plead, a sheen of sweat forming on the back of my neck. I suck in deeply, my chest tightening the further he drives. "Please, go back."

"It's not a big deal, Dylan." Ryan laughs easily. "We'll get there faster."

I barely see it, in the distance. The bend in the road marked with a wooden cross.

My fists clench so tightly I can feel my finger nails breaking the skin of my palms. I squeeze my eyes shut, my chest rising and falling rapidly as I try to stay calm.

"Why are you doing this?" I squeak, my mind blurring.

"Dylan?" Ryan's voice is far away. "Dylan?"

Snapshots of news broadcasting I wasn't supposed to be watching flash in my mind at record speed.

Luke's Jeep, skidded off the road, the front end crushed into a tree. Dark, angry tire marks scarring the pavement. Glass shards covering the ground. Scraps of metal twisted and broken, strewn about like something from a movie. Sirens wailing, police officers and firemen fighting to relieve the poor souls stuck inside.

Waiting in the living room for Casey to get home. Going to bed when he didn't and running down stairs after hearing the most God awful wailing sound I'd ever heard. Discovering it was my mother, two policemen standing in front of her.

I can't breathe, I press my palms to my chest but can't get any air. I can't breathe.

Kicking and screaming, fighting against my uncles as they restrained me so my parents could go identify the body. The body.

Not the body.

My brother.

Casey.

"Stop!" I gasp, fumbling for the door handle. "Stop, stop the car!" I yell, fingers pulling at the lock.

"Dylan, what are you doing?" Ryan tries to touch my arm but I push him off. "Wait!"

"Don't touch me! Why did you bring me here?" I cry, finally getting the door open once Ryan has pulled to a stop. Just in front of the marker of the worst day of my life.

"Bring you where?" Ryan follows me out of the car, seeming truly clueless. Spinning around, he stops when he sees the wooden cross staked into the ground, bending to read what's inscribed.

"I don't... I don't understand," Ryan touches my shoulder. "Dylan I'm sorry. Tell me what's wrong."

Still unable to catch my breath, vision cloudy with tears, I pull away from him again. "It doesn't matter. It ... doesn't matter..."

Hugging my chest tightly, I face Ryan with cold eyes. "Just go, okay?"

"Dylan, I can't leave you - let me take you home, at least." Ryan's eyes are confused and pleading.

"No." I shake my head, not caring how crazy I seem. "Just go. Please."

I sink to my butt in front of the cross, resting my back against a small stump nearby. Ryan stands in the road, illuminated by his headlights, for some time, before he finally gets in his car and leaves, just as I'd asked him to.

Mind buzzing from the faint intoxication leftover from dinner and the lack of oxygen to my brain, I shove myself from the ground.

Clumsily, numbly, I walk down the small footpath towards the beach, falling to my knees a couple of times and scraping my palms.

After fifteen or so minutes, I break through onto the sand, my eyes set on the dark horizon so far off in the distance.

Without thinking, one foot steps in front of the other, continuing until I feel the cold slap of ocean waves over my feet. Ruining my sandals, I keep walking. Until my jeans are soaked. Until I'm waist deep. Until I'm in to my shoulders, the water rough against the dark sky.

And that's when I let go.

Thanks for reading my loves!
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