Page 32 of Creeping Lily
She’s pretty in a delicate, pixie-like way, with sharp eyes that can cut glass, but her persistence has been her downfall. These boys don’t like clingy, and she doesn’t seem to realize it. If it weren’t for the fact she’s Marshall’s cousin—a guy in Justin’s tight-knit crew—she wouldn’t even be here.
Wendolyn finishes her slice, brushing sand off her pants, then turns to Trick. “Let’s go for a walk,” she says, her voice sugary but threaded with impatience.
He doesn’t even look at her. His eyes are on me as I try to fold myself into the sand and make my presence small.
“Trick,” she says again, sharper this time. Still nothing.
“Trick!” she snaps.
Finally, his gaze shifts, lazy and unbothered. I sigh quietly. Beside me, Justin pauses mid-chew, watching her like she’s a scene he can’t decide whether to laugh at or ignore. Bethany just rolls her eyes.
“I’ll go with you,” Marshall offers, standing.
“I asked Trick.”
“He’s still eating. I’ll go with.”
Her arms cross over her chest, lips tightening in irritation before she turns on her heel and storms off, Marshall trailing behind, murmuring something I don’t catch.
“You need to have a talk with her,” Bethany says, her eyes cutting toward Trick.
“She’syourfriend,” he says.
“Not by choice. And it’s not my place. If you’re not interested, tell her.”
“I don’t even know what gave her the idea I am.”
“She’s staking her claim,” Justin says, his tone somewhere between amused and sympathetic. “Better let her down easy now before this gets ugly, brother.”
The ocean sprawlsout before us, endless and unknowable, the waves hissing like they’re whispering secrets only they can keep. The sunlight glitters on the surface, too bright, too cheerful for the heaviness between Justin and me.
“You know he’s not going to just disappear,” Justin says finally, his voice low but certain, like he’s stating the outcome of a game I haven’t agreed to play.
I keep my eyes on the horizon, pretending his words are nothing but background noise. “Hmm?” My tone is light, dismissive. Sometimes pretending is easier than engaging.
“Patrick.” His voice is almost casual, but the weight under it is unmistakable—it’s a warning from a concerned friend.
“I’m not interested, Justin. I told him I had a boyfriend back home. I thought that would make things clear.”
He smirks, eyebrow raised. “You and I both know there’s no boyfriend.”
I lift a finger to my lips, the gesture playful, like we’re keeping a shared secret. “It’s complicated,” I say with a small smile, though the truth isn’t complicated at all—it’s ugly, and it’s mine to keep.
He studies me, head tilted slightly, like he’s trying to figure out what’s hiding behind my walls. “He’s not a bad guy, Lily.”
“I know. But I’m not interested in a relationship with anyone. Not right now.”
The words settle between us, and for a moment, the only sound is the crash of the waves. He doesn’t look away from me, and his silence feels heavier than the question he hasn’t asked yet.
“Can I ask why?” His voice is softer now, but there’s a hook in it, reeling me in. “Guys are falling all over themselves for you. Trick especially.”
I let out a quiet laugh. “Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”
“It’s true,” he says, and the way he says it tells me he’s not just teasing. “You’re hard to ignore.”
A wave of discomfort flows through me. Some guys have looked at me like they’d like to keep me. But those moments are fleeting—quick flares of interest that burn out before they can catch. And when I think of Trick, there’s no spark at all—only a tightening in my chest and the faint churn of nausea. The thought of him touching me, even in the most innocent way, feels like a weight I can’t carry.
“I’m here to get my degree, then I’m going home,” I say evenly. “I don’t have time for distractions.”
