Hayden and I fuck two more times in the pool, then retire inside to watch a movie until I’m sober enough to drive.
When my head has stopped floating, and everything is starting to feel normal again, we get dressed and Hayden walks me to my car.
“Can I see you again?” he asks as I’m getting into the driver’s seat, his hands resting on the roof of my Cayenne as he stands in the open doorway.
I look at him, admiring his shirtless chest and messy hair, then I find his eyes – so dark and calm. I blow out a breath. “This was supposed to just be a hookup.”
“We did hook up,” he says simply, that cocky grin pulling his puffy lips. “That means we can’t see each other again?”
I slide a hand up the side of his face to cup his cheek. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but you’re not exactly relationship material.”
He laughs, a loud boom that makes his chest shake. Leaning toward me, he pinches my bottom lip between his thumb and finger. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but I don’t want to be in a relationship with you.”
A smile cracks across my face on its own, and we laugh together for a moment.
“Good to know.”
He pulls my bottom lip out, then lets his grip go, making my lip pop back against my teeth. Leaning into my car, he grins. “That doesn’t mean we can’t hook up again, though.”
“We’ll see,” I answer, kissing him lightly on the lips, then pulling away. “Goodnight, Hayden.”
“Goodnight, Penelope,” he whispers, a smirk pulling up the side of his lips. He steps away then, rounding my car and heading for the front door. Once I’ve buckled my seatbelt and closed my car door, I shift into drive and head out into the street.
I wake up the next morning to my alarm blaring like a fucking Amber Alert. Smacking the snooze button, I roll over, pulling the comforter over my head.
I have my first day of work today, and I’m coming down from molly. Brilliant decision making on my part.
I blink, and my alarm is going off again, telling me I just gained another eight minutes of sleep. Groaning loud, I throw the comforter off and grab my phone to silence my alarm as I sit up. My head is pounding, and waves of nausea are passing through me, making me feel dizzy.
I need coffee, a shower, and a handful of ibuprofen.
When I slide down on the notification menu on my phone, I look through the string of notifications. A text from Hayden pulls my attention, so I click on it.
HAYDEN:
tonight?
I type out a response.
ME:
What’s tonight?
I go back to my notifications and click on a message from my mom.
MOM:
Good luck today, Pen! Dad is doing good today, wants to know if you’ll come by this weekend! Call me later, xoxo.
Tossing my phone to the bedside table, I throw my legs over the edge of my bed and go for the kitchen to make some coffee. It’s nearing sunrise, the orange sky creeping through the windows and lighting up my apartment.
While I’m making my coffee, I get the unwanted need to cry.
Fucking molly. Get out of my head.
When I’ve set the machine up to brew, and a tear has fallen down my cheek, I head for the bathroom. Turning on the water the hottest it will go, I strip out of my clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor, then step under the spray. I hiss when the burning stream hits my skin, but I keep myself under it, wanting the warmth to revive and massage my aching muscles.
Closing my eyes, I tip my head back and let the water rain over my face, washing last night’s makeup from my skin.
There’s a bubble of nerves in my gut, and Hayden’s name is stamped on it. I feel infatuated, and the reminder that I woke up alone feels wrong. After last night, I should have been rolling over, straddling him, and enjoying some morning sex.
I smooth my hands over my face, brushing the water from my eyes, before I grab my shampoo and lather my matted hair. My muscles are starting to feel good, and the nausea has lessened, but my head is still pounding. Going through my routine of showering, I zone out, replaying last night on a loop.
Hayden, his big hands in my hair, around my throat, in between my legs.
I find myself pressing my thighs together, my teeth biting down on my lip as my breathing speeds up. I want more – I need more.
I need to get him out of my head, even just for today, because I have to focus on impressing Barbara Justice. I have to go in there, my first day, and prove I’m worth the risk they took on me.
As I finish up my shower, I decide to leave the toxic parts of me at home, the parts that do drugs and fuck tattooed guys in pools, and be my professional self.
I dress in black slacks and a tan blouse, go make a cup of coffee with extra sugar, then stand in front of the mirror and do my makeup.
I’m spraying setting spray on my face when my phone goes off on the counter next to me.
HAYDEN:
lets smoke a ton of weed and lie on the beach
A smile pulls up my lips, but the reminder of responsibility has me locking my phone without responding. If I make plans to see him tonight, I’ll be thinking about it all day.
I moved here to focus on two things: family and my career, and already, I’m forming a connection with someone who I’m making bad decisions with. Best to just let it fizzle out. God knows I don’t need to be catching feelings for some fuckboy with tons of money and a taste for drugs.
My first day with Barbara Justice goes as expected.
Painful.
Most of the day, I was silent, listening to her plans for the school year, nodding my head like a good little girl, not giving her my opinion if it varied from her own. I feel emotionally and mentally drained, plus my cheeks ache from having to force myself to smile all day long.
She has a heavy lesson plan for the year, though. The nerd inside me is excited.
She’s passionate about teaching, but jaded from being put through the wringer by high school students for three decades. I can’t imagine some of the shit she’s seen, especially in Luxington. Kids are entitled here; I’ll be the first to admit that. It was tough adjusting when I moved here, because I was so used to fighting and scraping my way through a life of foster care and poverty.
This is a rich town. Kids who get credit cards for their tenth birthdays and think they’re better than everyone else. I’m sure teaching here is a challenge. But it’s a challenge I’m ready to face. I’m more excited than ever for this next chapter of my life.
The sun is setting as I pull into the parking garage of my building, and I’m aching to walk down to the beach and get my feet sandy.
I almost don’t believe I’ve been back in town for a week and I haven’t gone to the beach yet. I’m anxious for it.
When I’ve gotten upstairs and closed myself in my apartment, I strip out of my clothes and throw on a bathing suit, then toss a loose dress over it before twisting my hair into a bun and sliding some sandals on my feet.
It’ll take me maybe ten minutes to walk to the beach, and with the way the sky is melting into oranges and pinks, there’s nothing I’d rather do. I grab my purse, toss my phone in, and lock up before I take the stairs down to the street.
It’s a breezy night, making my shoulder prick with goosebumps, but it’s still warm enough that I’ll be able to jump in the ocean for a little while. Growing up, my parents always called me crazy for swimming in the Atlantic at night, because it turns into a wavy pit of darkness, and you never know what you’re going to step on – but I fucking loved it. I loved the openness, the thought that maybe I wasn’t alone out there, but would never really know.
The beach was always my quiet place, the place I could go to clear my head and reset my mood.
When I got older and went to high school, it became the place we would party or camp out.
It’s always there, it’s always been there. Even when I had no one and nothing, I had the beach.
I walk along Main Street, snapping photos of the sunset with my phone and posting a few on Instagram before I check my text messages from the day. Katie has started her new job in Seattle, meaning she has been too busy to check in with me, so I send her a heart emoji before I click on Hayden’s name and read over his message from this morning. I never responded, wanting to keep my head on straight for the day, but I think over what I could say now that eight hours have passed by and I’m feeling restless again.
I decide not to say anything, and just put my phone back into my purse and ignore it for a while. Maybe sitting alone on the sand will give me some extra clarity about what I’m doing with my fucking life.
I savor the smell of salt and wind as I take my first step onto the sand, sliding my sandals off and letting them hang in one hand so I can let my toes feel the softness. I want to cry. I don’t know why, but it feels like I’m finally fucking home when I sink my feet into the cool sand and stand there for a moment.
A smile spreads across my face, and I take off running.
By the time I reach the water, my chest is heaving and I’m laughing in joy. I throw my purse and shoes behind me, strip off my dress and leave it on the sand, then run into the water.
It’s cold, and the waves are high, and I want to scream at the top of my lungs.
I keep running until I trip, going face first into the water. Laughing at myself, I get back up and move slower this time, wading out into the ocean until I’m covered to my neck. Taking a deep breath in, I float onto my back and smile up at the pink sky.
This is bliss.
There’s nothing like this feeling for me, nothing in the world that compares to the calmness I feel in my very soul when I’m in the ocean. Whenever I’ve had a problem in my life, this has always been the answer. Happy or sad, this is always where I want to be at the end of the day.
I float for a while, letting the waves crash over me and take me away every now and again. When my limbs are aching from holding myself above the water, and I’ve swallowed enough saltwater to turn my stomach, I swim back to the beach.
Even though the sun has disappeared, the sky is still pink. The moon kisses the sky, and the stars are starting to show as the clouds clear from the sky, so I lie down on the dry sand next to where I dumped my purse and stare at them, using my dress as a pillow.
The saltwater dries on my skin, making me feel sticky and rough, and my hair has matted on my head from the waves. It’s my favorite feeling, though, feeling the salt become one with my body, letting the ocean consume me even after I’ve left it.
When I’m dry enough, I grab my phone and open Hayden’s message again. Before I can back out, I drop a pin to my location and smile.
