Page 50 of Diving In

I realized it was weird to be talking to my dead brother, but I swore I felt lighter than when I first sat down. I peered up just as the sun was hitting off Fletcher’s surfboard, reflecting off the picture of the two of us resting on his nightstand.

I smiled,feelingthat Fletcher was here with me and thankful for his sign, letting me know it was all going to be okay.

CHAPTER 19

Nothing had been resolved, but after talking to Fletcher, I felt more confident that everything would work out. My flight left tonight, but that wasn’t going to stop me from making one stop before I took off. I started on foot toward Jack’s.

As I turned onto Blue Fin Boulevard, the smell of freshly roasted coffee floated through the air and I couldn’t help myself, I had to stop. I wandered up to The Grounded Bean, hoping there wasn’t going to be too long of a wait.

The jingle of the bell chimed as soon as I swung the door open. Walking in, I let out a breath of relief when I saw there were only two people in line—a girl probably around my age at the counter and an older man behind her. It wasn’t until I heard the girl talk that my stomach dropped.

Blair Warner.

You had to be fucking kidding me. I understood this was a small island, but this shit luck I was having had to end soon. Seeing this girl two times within two days… Really, universe? And how was it that she always looked good? She was effortlessly put together, appearing completely refreshed. Something I was desperately lacking.

Her black hair was tied up in a messy yet perfectly nestled bun, her cropped half-zip hit her waist exactly where it should, just enough for her tan, toned belly to make itself known, and her tight-ass leggings were somehow squeezing her body in all the right places and none of the wrong ones.

And here I was, looking like I’d actually gotten run over by a bus. Leftover makeup that had no chance of being saved, the same clothes I wore yesterday and slept in last night, and hair that hadn’t been washed since I touched down on this island. I hadn’t even had a chance to douse it with a can of dry shampoo this morning.

She was taking her sweet time at the counter, twirling her keys around her fingers while an overly large designer bag hung off her right shoulder. She was obviously ordering for more than just herself.

“I’ll have two breakfast scrambles, one black coffee, and one vanilla latte, light on the syrup, substitute with almond milk, and no whip,” she ordered.

“This isn’t Starbucks. Take your no-whip bullshit somewhere else,” I mumbled under my breath. I was more annoyed than usual, the wound freshly reopened after having relived that horrible day just yesterday. But with that day came the new memory of Cal standing up for me, protecting me.

A small smirk flirted with my mouth, but Blair’s voice quickly wiped it away.

As she finally finished her order, I simultaneously snapped my head down, doing everything I possibly could to avoid any confrontation. I just wanted to get my damn coffee and get the hell out of here.

I sensed her walking past me and watched for her shoes to go by out of the corner of my eye as I pretended to be preoccupied with my cell phone. Only after I knew it was safe did I lift my head.

The old man stepped up next, and I’d hoped he’d had a regular coffee order… but of course not. This man asked the poor barista every single question that he could think of.

I continued to mess with my phone, absentmindedly opening and closing emails because I absolutely could not focus on the words on the screen, invasive thoughts attempting to take control.

“Thanks for grabbing me a coffee,” a low voice came from behind me.

The air was aggressively ripped from my chest, because I knew that voice.

I’d recognize that voice for the rest of forever.

Cal.

I felt sick. The urge to turn and run out the door was real, but I knew I just had to stand there and keep my head down. There were so many emotions whirling around, but more than anything, I felt betrayed. I knew it’d been a long time since Blair was so awful to me, but how could Cal want to be seen with her, with someone so unkind, so fake, so unlike him?

I kept my head down, encouraging myself to just let them get their order and then I’d literally never have to see either of them again.

Well, that was my hope for Blair at least. That word—never—seemed extremely too permanent when it came to Cal, even after everything. He’d nonchalantly strolled back into my life two days ago and had somehow managed to have me rethinking every single thing I’d so strategically planned out.

And as I stood there, in the most anxiety-riddled moment, I didn’t know what to feel other than embarrassed. Almost like a little kid who desperately wanted to hang out with the adults, but somehow Istillwasn’t cool enough.

Almost fifteen years later and I was still getting hounded by the mean girl. Although, it felt worse now than it had before, because this time, the boy who was once there to save me was potentially going to hurt me far worse than Blair ever did. Or maybe he already had.

“Blair!” the young barista called out.

Cal answered, “I’ll grab it.”

I felt the air rush past me as he whooshed by, making his way to the counter. I did everything I could to stop myself from looking up, but it wasn’t enough. My head lifted. If this was going to be the last time I was in the same room as him, I had to give myself just one more glance, one more view that I could keep in my memory for the rest of time.

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