In Waves | ✔️

02 | changes

"Whoa, what happened? And where's mine?" Rob asks when I hand Rachel her melting strawberry ice cream.

"Probably in a seagull's stomach by now since I um... fell. The others didn't make it."

His sunglasses slide down the bridge of his crooked nose, a trail of sweat marking their path. Rob broke his nose in an ice hockey game when he was ten. A doctor had to set it in place, but it never quite got back to its former shape. We shared a room at the time he was recovering and his breathing would keep me up at night. It was like living with Darth Vader.

"Rachel, look!" he exclaims. "There's a guy selling designer sun hats!"

She whips her head around. "Where?"

Rob's tongue springs for her ice cream like a frog catching a fly. She shrieks and slaps him away, and I leave them bickering as I jog down to the shore.

Pulling my sticky shirt off, I couldn't be more thankful that I decided to wear a swimsuit under my clothes even though I had no intention of swimming. My knees sink into the wet sand while the waves lap over my shirt. I splash saltwater on my chest where the ice cream has seeped through the fabric, then dunk my hair and wash out the vanilla.

"Little Lia, thought that was you."

My fingers freeze from raking through my strands. There's only one person who calls me that, he thrust the nickname on me in middle school. I'd know that slimy voice anywhere, though. Jay Carter emerges from the rolling ocean, his gaze locked on me. It's like he's gliding, floating until he can slither on land and dry out his scaly belly.

I wish he really looked like a reptile. It would reflect his personality more than the conventional attractiveness it's concealed behind.

"Actually, not so little anymore, huh? I see summer's been good to you." His dark eyes blatantly settle on my chest. "Real good."

I whip up my soaking shirt to cover myself. Rachel's been on the receiving end of Carter's skeevy comments, but that's definitely the most forward thing he's said to me. The way his eyes linger sends a biting chill down my spine. It's as if he's holding a magnifying glass to my body, examining every inch of exposed skin.

Carter has always rubbed me the wrong way. Always been a source of irritation like a rash. He spreads himself over every girl he comes into contact with, consumes them, uses bodies until he's had his fill and disappears.

It's a pattern he doesn't hide, and girls don't seem to care. They still flock to him, readily giving him everything, holding a false belief that they could be the exception to his pattern.

I've seen the damage he leaves in his wake, and I'm just grateful that I've steered clear of becoming one of his many victims.

He stands next to me with dripping swim trunks and hairy legs. I'm still kneeling, deciding to bite the bullet and squeeze out my shirt so I can put it back on. Before I do, I part my hair from behind and bring it forward so that it hides my chest from him.

"Looks like everyone from school had the same idea about coming here today," his voice drifts down.

"The beach on the last day of summer? Not exactly surprising," I mumble.

"No, it's not," Carter says, watching me stand. "But it is surprising seeing you here. Seeing you anywhere outside of school, really. I guess that's gonna change now because of Matt."

I try to read his impish features. How much has Matt told him? They're unfortunately­ best friends, after all. His small mouth curves as he rakes a hand through his floppy brown hair. He flexes, not so subtly, deliberately emphasizing his muscles and presenting his bare torso like a peacock flashing its feathers. It's making me more confused than anything.