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Faye
By the time we get back to the beach after tubing, we’re all tired from the sun and head to our respective rooms to shower and get ready for dinner.
My shower is quick, and I’m left in an empty room with nothing but my thoughts and some soft Spanish music playing from the television. Lori’s taking forever to come back from her date with Dean, and I need someone to talk to about my stupid crush on Kellan. I actuallylikeKellan.Kellan Reyes. The annoying boy who pulls my ponytail when he sits behind me and knows just the right buttons to push to get under my skin. The easygoing boy who’s never been in a fistfight in his life, except for the time he punched Connor Davis when I was in eleventh grade because he shoved me and called me a whore, and Kellan witnessed it. Kellan got suspended for that, but we never spoke about it again, and Connor gave me a wide berth afterward.
A knock on my door breaks through my thoughts, and I open it to see Dylan standing there in a loose T-shirt and shorts.
“Everyone’s sleeping and I’m bored. I figured you would be too.” He shrugs as a way of explanation, and I let him pass me into the room.
“You were right; I am bored. I have no idea when Lori’s getting back.” I close the door and sit on Lori’s bed as he lounges on mine.
Dylan uses the remote to flip through the television channels before giving up and putting it back on the music video channel.
“So . . .” he starts, setting the remote down. “What had your panties in a twist today? And why did you throw Kellan off the banana tube?”
I sputter. “Wh—You—I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Dylan quirks an eyebrow. “I was sitting right behind you, Faye. I saw you throw him off.”
My mouth snaps shut. He’s right. He would’ve seen that.
Shit. What do I even say to that?
“I get that Kellan usually pisses you off, but you were extra uptight today.” Dylan continues, stretching on the bed and settling in. “What gives?”
My heart pounds in my chest for a few moments, and a heavy silence fills the room, causing Dylan to sit up.
“Out with it,” he prompts, but I hesitate.
Should I tell him? I need someone to talk to or I’m going to explode, and Lori’s not here right now.
I narrow my eyes at Dylan as I consider it. I trust him; that’s never been an issue. He’s always had my back like a brother even when my actual brother didn’t. He’s the one I called in tenth grade when I was drunk off my ass and needed a ride home from a party without my parents finding out. After the third time, he’d asked why I never called Adam for help, since according to him that’s a brother’s job. When I shot him a raised eyebrow, I think he pieced it together himself, because he pressed his lips together and helped me into the car. I stopped calling him after that, but he’s never ratted on me or told Adam, so I’m confident he’ll keep quiet about this if I tell him.
I pick my words carefully. “What would you say if I told you I, theoretically, liked Kellan? Like,like-likedhim.”
He tilts his head at me. “Theoretically?”
“Yes.”
“Then I would say that you’re stupid. Theoretically.”
Not helpful.
“Okay, and what if I told you I—again, theoretically—slept with him a few times? Theoretically.”
His eyes widen. “Fuckingshit. Really, Faye?”
That’s not encouraging. “Theoretically,” I remind him.
“Do you even understand the word ‘theoretically’?”
“What would you say?”
“I would say you’rereallystupid.”
A long-suffering sigh escapes me. “Dylan, I need advice here. What do I do?”
He bites back a stupid, knowing smirk. “Oh, so it’snotreally theoretical?”
