Page 20 of Shattered In Darkness

When I look, he waits a second, then looks back at me, eyes too pale for the sunlight, and my cheeks go hot and my knees turn traitor. I’m not ugly. I know that. But people look at me and only see curves. Boys at school say “slut” if your shorts are too tight, or stare when you bend over. At sixteen years old, my body is developing more.

Brody isn’t like that, though. He doesn’t talk about it, he just watches. Like a wolf in the underbrush. Like if he holds still long enough, I’ll walk right up to him and let him take a bite.

Maybe I would.

“Hey, Bambi,” he says when I get close.

There it is. My nickname. He barely smirks but his mouth curves, just a little, and it’s like a punch straight through the spine.

“Hey yourself,” I say, pretending I’m not grinning.

Sophie splashes water at his feet. It’s too early for the sun to be hot, but she acts like she doesn’t care. She dances back and forth, making a mess. Brody barely moves. He just stands there, shadow solid on the sand, looking like a bodyguard or a serial killer. Or both.

Lucas shows up last, dragging his heels. He’s got athletic shorts and a faded soccer jersey. He’s also wearing sunglasses, pushed up on his head, but unnecessary. The sun isn’t bright enough to hurt. He’s nice and cute, with floppy brown hair and green eyes, but he does not catch my attention.

I only know Lucas from school. He’s our age, and coincidentally, the son of Richard’s long-time friend who joined us on this trip too. They told me it’s a tradition to go on a trip every year. Brody and Sophie’s parents are long-time friends with Lucas’s.

He squints at Brody. “Whatcha making?”

Brody doesn’t reply, but flips the stick away. Sophie answers instead. “He’s writing something.”

I kneel and look. It’s my name. Okay, not my name. Just the word “BAMBI” in huge block letters, stabbed into the sand. The B’s are crazy big, and the rest is a mess.

I burst out laughing. “Damn, Brody. You always this sappy?”

He shrugs, offhand. “You like it or not?”

He’s teasing. Or is he? I can’t tell; his face is so flat. Unreadable. Only the edges of his ears are a little pink.

I trace my big toe over the ‘I.’ “It’s cute. Definitely wouldn’t survive a high tide, though. Just saying.”

“Not for the tide,” he says. “Just for you.”

Jesus. That does something to my belly. I can’t stop smiling.

Lucas shakes his head. “You two are weird.”

Sophie elbows him. “You’re just jealous your art sucks.”

“I’m not jealous,” Lucas says, but he flicks a shell at me anyway and it almost hits my arm.

I fake a scream. Everyone laughs, even Brody, low and guttural, so fast you’d miss it if you weren’t obsessed. I am.

We run around for a while, nothing to do but chase the water and dig holes. Sophie starts building a fortress, and Lucas helps. They have this way of syncing up, like twins, even though she’s nothing like him. He’s punchy, always loud, always talking about sports or dumb pranks. Sophie is quiet but ten times smarter. She lets him think he’s in charge, but he never is.

I hang back with Brody. He lets the wind eat his hair, the dark pieces whip around, getting in his eyes, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s taller than me by a lot. It’s easier to look at his hands; the veins in his wrist, and the way he fists his thumb as if he needs to crush something soft. A crab shell, maybe. Or my throat.

I try to think of something casual. Something that won’t sound desperate. “You gonna swim today or just stalk me from the shoreline?”

He tilts his head. He does that a lot, like he’s dissecting every word. “That depends, Bambi. You want me to swim?”

I almost choke. Is he flirting? It’s impossible to tell, but his gaze holds me for a second too long.

“Think you could beat me?” I say. “You look more like you’d sink.”

He’s so matter-of-fact. “Bet I could pull you under.”

God.