Page 40 of The Girl I Once Loved

I’d love nothing more than to see her bleed.

Considering this bitch has nicked me more times than I can count.

“Look at me, Skylar,” she insists, with a heartfelt tone worthy of an Oscar. “I know I hurt you, but what I’m trying to tell you is that I’m not that person anymore. I’m someone’s mother. Someone’s wife. I’m happy. Too happy to dwell on the stupid shit that went on in high school. Aren’t you?”

I stand there amazed at her brazen disregard for what she did to me.

“I mean, out of the both of us, I was sure you’d have matured into seeing things differently by now. But from what I can tell, you’re still stuck there—in the past where only heartache lives. You have to let that pain go, Skylar. For your own sake.” She sighs, as if genuinely worried about me. “I see that no matter what I say, you’ll never believe me. But I can assure you this much. I do regret many things that I did back in the day, but not all of them. Because they were all lessons in disguise, and I grew from those mistakes. Without them, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. And I like who I’ve become. You might not, and that’s okay. Because the people who love me know my worth and see me for who I am.”

“Are you done?” I all but bark at her.

“Yes.” She sighs. “I guess I am.” She then gives me a disappointed look before turning around to leave in search of her family.

It’s only when her back is turned that I find my voice and say the one thing I shouldn’t.

“I loved him. And you…you…ruined it,” I choke out with closed fists, my nails biting into my palms.

She halts her step with those words and turns her head over her shoulder to look at me, complete sadness marrying her features.

“You forget that I loved him too. There was nothing I wouldn’t have done for him. Nothing. Even lie.”

And with that ominous remark, she walks away, disappearing into the crowd, leaving me in shambles in the middle of the street.

Chapter Nine

Noah

“Congratulations, Noah!”

“The Royal Shank blew them all out of the water!”

“Next year you’ll be a shoe-in to win the New Zealand Grand Prix!”

These are the cheered remarks I’m flooded with as I walk down Main Street with my dad and Clara at my side. I just nod and smile, letting complete strangers pat me on the back, because I know today’s win means something to all of them too.

No one expects a kid who was born and raised on the poor side of the island to amount to much. At least nothing that doesn’t involve putting on gray PVC-coated polyester overalls every day. In their eyes, I’ve become the exception to the rule, a source of hope that maybe their own sons and daughters may grow up to have a better life than the one afforded to them.

But while they praise and cheer my accomplishment in winning today’s race, all I can think about is how I’m one step closer to leaving them all behind.

As much as I hate to admit it, I’m going to miss Thatcher’s Bay.

I’ve spent so much of my life brooding and lamenting on how I’d be forever shackled to this island, that now that I’m months away from leaving it for good, a sense of melancholy washes over me. All that I’d ever dreamed about doing is within my grasp, and yet I find myself mourning the loss of the life I thought I was destined for.

How crazy is that?

Maybe it has to do with the fact that this island holds my most treasured memories and that is why I’m so reluctant to bid it goodbye.

But in a few months, that’s exactly what I’ll do.

After the Royal Shank wins Derrick’s Labor Day boat race, I’ll have enough money to get it ready for the trip of a lifetime. From here, it will take me thirty days to reach the Panama Canal, then another fifty to sail off to New Zealand for the annual Grand Prix, stopping in Hawaii and Fiji along the way to refuel and restock.

If I want to make it there before March when the race takes place, then I'll have to leave by the end of October, early November at the latest. Which works just fine, since the southern hemisphere will be enjoying its summer months down there, so it will be smooth sailing all the way.

This opportunity is everything I could have dreamed of when I was a kid, and yet, there is something missing. Something that doesn’t allow me to fully enjoy it.

Who am I trying to fool?

It’s not something. It’ssomeone.

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