Page 71 of Skalterra By Nightmare
I stooped to grab the paddle from the ground and place it next to the board. The panic was gone. I was safe. I would not be going into the forest. Instead, shame burned at my every fiber.
I was silent as I slid into the passenger seat, and I stared straight ahead as Liam backed us out of the parking spot.
We went back up the windy road, and were several miles down the highway before I couldn’t stand the silence any longer.
“I’m sorry.”
I said it loud enough, I was sure of it, but for several moments, Liam didn’t say anything back. When he did, he said the worst thing possible.
“It’s okay.”
Something hot burned at the edges of my vision, and I blinked back whatever traitorous tears were threatening to spill over. I didn’t want his pity or his understanding. I wanted him to be angry. He deserved to be angry.
“It’s not.”
“I get it.” He was trying to sound gentle, but his tone was tight and careful. “You don’t like meeting new people.”
“I don’t like the trees,” I blurted.
“Oh.” I could see him looking at me in my peripheral vision, but I continued to stare forward at the road. “I didn’t know that.”
“I mean, I don’t really like people either. But it’s mostly the woods.”
“I know.”
“I shouldn’t have yelled.”
“Probably not, but it’s okay. Wren?” He reached across the center seat to put a hand on my shoulder. “You’re okay.”
I pressed my hands against my eyes. I wanted to undo the last thirty minutes. I wanted to go back in time and decide to stay home, lonely but safe.
Liam took an exit off the highway, though I was sure we were still several miles out from Keel Watch Harbor.
“What’re you doing?” I demanded, finally turning to look at him. He had that stupid grin on his face again.
“Don’t worry. We aren’t going into the woods.”
“But where are we going?”
“The beach.”
Grassy marshes extended on either side of the road here, and in the distance, the ocean shimmered.
“Your friends are waiting for you.”
“They’re Riley’s friends, first of all.” He pulled on the window crank to let salty air into the truck cab. “Second, there’s more than one way to get to the cove. You don’t mind the water, do you?”
We pulled into a new gravel parking lot. This one overlooked a sandy beach where families played. The waves that lapped at the shore hardly reached a foot in height, and a dog chased after his owner in the gentle surf.
Liam got out first, returning to the truck bed to pull out the paddleboard.
“You’ll have to sit still,” he instructed as I got out on the passenger side. “It’s hard with two people, but doable if your sense of balance isn’t trash.”
“We’re going to paddle to your friends?”
“Riley’s friends,” he reminded me. “It’s less than a mile to the cove from here. It’ll be easy. You’ll want to leave your shoes in the truck, though.”
I threw my shoes in the truck bed, exchanging them for the paddle, and chased Liam to the sandy beach. He waded out past the white foam wash of the tide and set the board down in the gentle surf.
