The Virginity Pact

27 - faking it

Everyone knows the first place to check for secrets is under the bed...or in it.

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Yachting.

I, Harper Caldwell, am going yachting.

I don't even like boats. It doesn't matter if it's a tiny fishing boat, a million dollar yacht, or a huge cruise liner. I've seen Titanic, like, 12 times. I don't care if we're nowhere near an iceberg—that movie was a traumatic 6 hour experience and it ruined boats for me. But, Trevor adamantly insisted I meet him on his parents yacht today for lunch.

I spot Trevor looking out to sea on the top deck of the closest yacht, wearing white shorts and a powder blue polo. The name Sienna is painted in beautiful black cursive on the side of the boat above a few long, rectangular windows. It rocks just barely on the water, anchored to stay in place. I climb up the steps to get on the boat, then another set to reach the top deck.

"Hey," I greet Trevor as I walk towards him. There's no reason to not be cordial, at least, like he said. The boat lurches just slightly as we pull away from the pier and begin our slow ascent out to sea.

Trevor turns around and looks me up and down harshly. When he makes eye contact with me, I can see something in his eyes that reminds me of the other night; then I notice the drink in his right hand.

He sets it down, the light brown liquid sloshes and ice cubes clink against the glass as he approaches me.

"We all agreed we weren't going to tell anyone about the accident. About what we did," his tone is harsh, and my eyes widen at his words. He knows I told Holden.

My jaw clenches slightly at the thought of Holden. Dammit. I told him not to say anything.

"I told you specifically not to tell Holden or your idiotic friends," Trevor continues.

I lick my lips and take a step back. His proximity is making me uncomfortable.

"I only told Holden," I assure, not bothering to defend my friends. I'd never tell the girls about this. I'm not stupid. "I had to."

"No, you didn't," Trevor argues, his voice raising and making me jump slightly. I huff and frown at him, displeased with myself for almost giving into his intimidation tactics. I walk past him, sitting at the table that's set up for lunch. There's lobster, shrimp, and crab meat. Salad and fruit assortments. A pitcher of water, a bottle of champagne and a bottle of gin.

I pour myself a cool glass of water, feeling Trevor's eyes glaring holes into the back of my head. He comes around and sits in front of me.

"Listen," he starts off coolly, picking up his glass. "I understand how your little group works. You, Lydia, Jake, Holden, Elijah, and those brainless-barbies that follow you around. You lie, you scheme, you manipulate," he says, pausing and taking a sip of his drink without breaking eye contact with me. I shift uncomfortably at the thought of this being my reputation. I take a sip of my water as he continues. "But you're playing a dangerous game, Harper. And you're not an experienced player."

My jaw clenches and I narrow my eyes at him. I keep my mouth closed tight in a thin line, not saying a word. His eyes flicker over to the shore that we haven't yet traveled far from, and a smirk plays on his lips.