Page 27 of Break Your Fall

The crowd seems to grow every year for this night. The beach is filled with people almost blanket to blanket on the sand. I came early enough for the fireworks to nab a space, purposefully missing the pre-show concert, but there’s still light music mixing with the low voices of the beachgoers, and that familiar smell of beer, juice, salt water, and steamed salmon. It wouldn’t be the Fourth around here without that nauseating combination stuffing your nose.

I’m not expecting anybody to sit with me. Julian nor Camille nor Reyna have shown their faces since I’ve started looking for them. I shouldn’t bother; Julian and Camille are a couple now, Reyna would probably swerve to avoid my blanket if she saw me, and this is a tradition that started breaking last year.

Now it’s broken completely.

Everyone is paired off or with their friends and families. I’m the only one with a blanket all to myself.

I wish I would’ve known that last summer was the tipping point. I would’ve spent more time watching Reyna’s face light up beside me under the fireworks than watching the fireworks themselves. My stare slides to the rumpled, empty spot beside me now and I sigh out how much I want that tonight.

I’ve spent so much time hoping that things won’t change—cuddling with denial—that I’ve failed to prepare for when they do. It’s a starry-eyed thought, another romantic notion, to believe that the people in your life will always be in your life. But people leave. You leave. People get hurt—they give up on each other. They fall in love, get married, fall out of love, then separate—move on and try to hide it from their kid.And before you can stop the spiral, you’re right in the middle, then it’s just you.

It’s just me.

A scowl hardens my glum look when I spot Nate sleuthing a few rows up. Landon’s private eye. Hisdick, as it’s informally called. Rumor has it, Landon’s in need of one, anyway.

Too soon,I think with a flinch.

Never,at this point.

Loops, lemons, lemonade, life, love, Landon—L words that haven’t been doing me any favors.

Nate eyes me as he zigzags through the crowd, past blankets, towels, and chairs, glancing around for the rest of my group, then back at me with a twitch in his brows.

Yep, just me. Do your worst.

My fists aren’t tired or near as sore. I could get a good hit on him.

He squeezes the can in his hand, those thick brows now narrowing with regret as he breaks contact with me and continues down the beach. Wrong place, wrong time. Too big of an audience and he’s standing alone—his backbone missing.

The retaliation is coming, though. Last night wasours, retribution belonged tous, but these guys have to win. The last strike, the last word has to be theirs. So, the only way this game will end is for our side to give up and give those pricks victory.

But they messed with Reyna. There’s no standing down from that.

My hands ball with the thought and I have to wiggle them out to relax.

Then they find my phone, take me right to the last texts Reyna sent me—I need you. Beach—my thumbs tapping out and sending her the same words. I need her. For so many reasons and in so many ways, but right now, I need my best friend. I need her optimism. I need some sunshine under this dark night. I need to hear her say that we’re going to be okay even if the rest of my life isn’t.Ride or die.

Though, it might just bediewhen one of us brings up my feelings and her lack thereof. But we have to talk about what happened. She has to know that I’m still going to fix this. I haven’t gone anywhere.Nothinghas to change between us.

I’m thinking of extending that text to Julian and Camille when I feel the blanket dip in the sand beside me.

“How do we do this? Talking after a break up?”

Shelby sits cross-legged, her dark hair pulled into a high ponytail that swings as I meet her stare. I drop my phone to the blanket with a mousy chuckle. “I’ve never done it before, either.”

Silence expands between us, the pressure threatening to pop if one of us doesn’t speak again.

“I’ll start,” she finally says, tapping on her knees. “What’s going on with Reyna? She hasn’t been at work and isn’t answering my calls.”

I lean back on my hands, keep my answer brief. “Julian’s with Camille now.” They’re off somewhere enjoying their happiness forone damn minute, and Reyna’s just … off somewhere.

I glance at my phone. No response.She’ll come for me, too. She’s coming.

“Knew that was gonna happen,” Shelby says with a sigh, then clicks her tongue. I feel my tongue readying to click back, ready to tease her like I used to, but I keep it still. “Camille’s a bitch for coming back. I know you missed her,” she adds with a hurried look at me, “so I’m kind of sorry, but also kind of not.”

“There’s no way she could’ve known about Reyna and Julian, or eventhought. . .” I’m not trying to defend Camille—maybe part of me is—but a fact is a fact.

“Because she ditched them,” Shelby states, and that fact shuts me up.

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