Page 56 of Nightmare

There’s various coolers and kegs at the edge of the ocean and I make a beeline for them, because if I’m only here for one drink – it’s gonna be as soon as possible.

I grab something fruity and cold, pop the cap and take a long drink.

The sickly-sweet liquid hits me right in the fillings – making my jaw clench. Fucking Christ, how do these girls stomach enough of these to get a good buzz going?

I’m going to need something stiffer if I’m using this to boost my mood.

I jump a little when Camilla’s voice sounds right in my ear, not realizing she was even standing with me, “Let’s go over there.”

I follow where her finger is pointing, straight into the annoying lion’s den. The footballers.

Footballers? Is that right? Or is it football players?

“Olivia!” She breaks through my thoughts again. I have really got to start paying attention when she talks.

“Okay, okay. Lead the way.”

For some reason my stomach starts swimming with something that feels a lot like butterflies, and I take another long drink of the garbage in my hand to drown them.

“Olivia,” Brody fucking Rockport greets me as we slide up next to the fire, where all his bulky, pastel dressed friends are crowded like a cult, “I’m glad you came.”

I smile, waving a hand towards Cam, “This is Camilla, she’s a big fan.”

Her face goes red with embarrassment, so I try to stifle my laugh. I’vereallygot to be nicer to my one and only friend.

Brody laughs a little, and Cam shakes her head, “A fan of the football team.” She corrects me. “You guys are killing it this season.”

Brody shrugs off her compliment, which catches me by surprise. He seems like the type of guy that would really, really appreciate praise and compliments.

I find myself falling into casual conversation with these people who I’ve kept at a distance for so long, and an hour later Brody asks me if I want to take a walk down the beach with him.

I’m on my third drink – I know, I betrayed my one-drink rule – so I find myself saying yes to him.

We make our way to the edge of the shore, the moonlight bouncing off the Pacific Ocean in front of us and start walking down the beach in the damp sand.

“So, what’s your story, Olivia?”

I turn my head to face him, “My story?”

He nods, taking a drink of the beer in his hand, “Yeah. You’ve been like a recluse for the last few years. Why’d you come to PSA if you weren’t going to live a life here?”

I laugh a little, shrugging my shoulders. He acts like he has me all figured out, and I realize I’ve probably been the topic of conversation between people at school more than once over the years.

“My parents sent me here. Wanted to get me out of the city for a while, make sure I saw more of the world because they know I’d never leave New York otherwise.” The lie slips off my lips like sweet syrup.

He thinks over my words, humming through his lips a little bit. I speak again, “What about you? Where are you from?”

“Santa Monica born and raised.” He turns to look out across the ocean, like he can see the other side of it, so I take the opportunity to admire him a little.

He’s a classic Cali boy. Tan, sun kissed, golden skin and the perfect wave in his hair that almost looks accidental. He’s wearing khaki cargo shorts that are tailored to fit his slim waist and muscled legs. The sleeves of his light blue button up are rolled to his elbows, showing off his masculine forearms. An appreciative sigh leaves my mouth before I can stop it and he turns to look at me again.

“What?” He questions.

“Why’d you want me to come tonight, Brody?” I ask him, stopping and looking at him.

His legs stop moving as well. He positions himself in front of me, so I get a real good look into his melty, chocolatey eyes.

His gaze wanders, never spending too much time on one part of me, like he’s assessing me – almost reading me.

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