Page 25 of Faking Summer
I should’ve been used to cruelty—familiar with it, maybe even numb to it. But it never got easier. Every time cut a little deeper, leaving me exposed, feeling the same hurt from old memories I never wanted to keep. Charlotte’s mocking voice dragged me straight back to childhood, when her constant ridicule always made me feel so small.
My favorite little stuffed horse peeked out from the top of my backpack. I named him Sir Trotty-Trot. Charlotte spotted it one afternoon, her laugh piercing as she pointed it out to her friends so they could collectively laugh and judge me.
"Caroline still carries around her stuffed toys like a baby," she teased, loving any opportunity to make fun of her baby sister.
In a desperate attempt for acceptance, I plucked Sir Trotty-Trot from the warmth of my backpack and tossed him into a bush, abandoning my only ally in the hopes of gaining entry into a club that would never truly open its doors to me. My heart shattered with each step I took away from him, my sister never even noticing how painful it was for me.
That night, as I laid in bed, staring at the empty space on my pillow where Sir Trotty-Trot should have been, the ache in my chest felt too big for my small body to hold.
Then, soft footsteps echoed from beneath my door before there was a quiet shuffle. A moment later, Cooper slipped inside—my first hero.
"Here," he whispered, tucking the worn stuffed animal into the empty spot beside me, his touch careful, like he knew how much it mattered. Like he knew I needed saving. "He missed you."
And just like that, the world wasn’t so broken anymore. Even if only for a moment. As I clutched my little mini horse to my chest, the bond between me and my brother tightened, forming an understanding that no amount of cruelty from Charlotte could ever sever.
But he wasn’t here to rescue me now. I was all alone.
I clung to the memory of Cooper's kindness, using it like armor against her onslaught. I stood there, rooted to the grimy floor as each insult embedded itself deeper. The urge to flee was overwhelming, a primal scream building within the confines of my chest, yet I remained motionless, a statue built by years of enduring this torment.
"...And can we just talk about how we don’t even need tothinkabout her having a plus one to the wedding?" Charlotte continued. "She'll be the only one in my family again without a date, but no surprise there."
“Who can she date? No man in Bayside can stand her. She’s like boyfriend repellent or something.” Stella laughed, and my vision blurred as tears threatened to take over. All I wanted was to run away, but that would mean victory for Charlotte, and I refused to give her the satisfaction. My fingers twitched at my sides, desperate to grasp onto something, anything, that could keep me strong, keep me standing.
“I don’t even know how she can stand herself,” Charlotte snarled, holding up an empty glass and shaking it rudely at the bartender.
I couldn't hold back the tears any longer. The overwhelminghumiliation was suffocating, and all I could think about was how to make my escape, how to bolt from this stupid bachelorette party before my last shred of dignity snapped. The last thing I could do was let them see me cry. Just as I silently begged for an out, for someone—anyone—to pull the damn fire alarm, salvation arrived. In the form of someone I never expected.
"There you are, baby. You look beautiful."
Time stalled. The room blurred. A long arm slid around me like the man it belonged to had done it a thousand times before. His presence was solid, confident, an unexpected lifeline. His large hand gripped my waist firmly, grounding me at the exact moment I needed it most. Then, he turned to Charlotte, calm and composed, like this was just another effortless move in his playbook as he extended a hand. "I don't think we've formally met. I'm Reese."
My sister's jaw hit the floor, her tipsy haze vanishing in an instant as she gawked at the man next to me. Reese, with his effortless charm and those swoon-worthy green eyes, was practically a celebrity in our small town—he definitely wasn’t intimidated by my sister. She knew exactly who he was—the whole town did.
She stuttered out a response, her voice trembling. "I-I know who you are... everyone knows who you are." She looked from him to me, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "What’s happening right now?"
"We're together," he announced casually. "She didn't tell you I was her date to your wedding?"
Charlotte's glare, icy and accusing, shifted to me. "No," she spat out, the single syllable laced with venomous disbelief. "It must have slipped her mind because she never once mentioned that.”
Reese’s hand was still steady on my hip, and it was somehow calming me. "Well now you know," I added, watching her process the information. "Didn’t want to steal any of the excitement away from celebrating you."
The lie rolled off my tongue smoother than I'd expected. My heart hammered, not from deception, but from the realization that Reese had just stepped in to save me. But why? He must haveoverheard my sister's harsh words, and out of pity, he stepped in. Whatever the reason, I accepted without hesitation.
"So you've been dating...him?Really?" The words tumbled out of her mouth. Her gaze flicked between Reese and me again, like she couldn’t solve this equation, like it couldn’t possibly add up. It hurt more than I cared to admit, the insinuation that it was hard to believe Reese would ever date someone like me. But it never surprised me how low she thought of me.
“Lucky me, right? She’s way out of my league," he confirmed, taking me by surprise again.
Reese set down his empty glass on the bar top. Then flashed that panty dropping dimple of his as he turned toward me, rolling up his sleeve. The movement drew attention to his tattoos that slid down his arm, coming to a stop around the luxe watch on his wrist, giving off a hint of rebellion but also class at the same time. I strangely found myself staring a bit too long.
Oh, no—not these uncalled for and rebellious fanny flutters again. I scolded myself internally. Why did that simple gesture make me react that way? Don’t go there, Caroline. Don’t even think about it. Before I could gather my thoughts, he took my hand, pulling me away.
“Well, if you’ll excuse us,” he said, turning his back to Charlotte, “I’m stealing her for a dance.”
My sister’s eyes widened, a flicker of something I had never seen before crossing her face—was it jealousy? I didn’t think that was possible. For the first time in our lives, was she envious of me?
The dance floor was packed around us, full of couples swaying to the slow beat. As we moved, those around us blurred. I caught the scent of his cologne—a mix of cedarwood and something dangerously intoxicating. Each step drew us closer together, his grip on my hand firm but also gentle. Reese pulled me into him, and suddenly, there were no more worries, no more stress—just this calm and dangerously captivating feeling he left me with. His chest pressedagainst mine as I could feel every line of muscle beneath his shirt, his body hard and warm.
"Come here," he demanded, placing my hand up around the nape of his neck. I’d never been this attracted to anyone before—it was intense, unsettling.
