Isla

07.

0 7 | p a l m

MY BIKE SQUEAKED AS I SLOWLY WHEELED IT TOWARDS CLEMENTE HOUSE. I was taking my time and the sky had already turned into the orangey purple of twilight. The sun would be rising soon, and I'd be late for work.

Really, I was just avoiding Everett.

After I'd left him yesterday, he never returned to the beach. A part of me wondered if he'd ever returned to Clemente House. Shellside Bay was a small town, but it was still easy to get lost. It was surrounded by dirt roads and forests and cliffs that fell to rocky beaches.

And I'd left him in the middle of it all.

Even if he knew the way, it'd take almost an hour to walk back to Clemente House. I chewed on my bottom lip, guilt tearing at me.

Sure, he'd teased me and made fun of me and was a total arse hole when I was opening up about my feelings... Okay, maybe I was beginning to feel a little less guilty.

Still, I was never one for grudges and conflict. I'd decided early this morning to apologise.

It didn't mean I was looking forward to it.

As I reached the top of the hill, Everett came into sight, leaning against the porch of Clemente House. He inhaled, a lit cigarette between his lips, before releasing a puff of smoke. He saw me, his brows drawing together as I approached.

I frowned when I saw him, apprehension immediately flooding through me. I really wasn't looking forward to this. Neither was he, apparently, because he made no move to approach.

I stopped at the bottom of the steps and we both paused, staring at each other in tense silence.

Unspoken words filled the air between us, tense and painful, pressing on my shoulders and choking the air from my lungs. His jaw clenched and I tightened my grip on my bike, wringing my fingers around the handlebars.

Then, he pushed off the porch, dropping his cigarette to the floor and putting it out with the heel of his shoe.

I arched a brow at him.

"That's going to kill a turtle."

He paused, considering, before groaning and reaching down to pick it up, chucking it into the ashtray sitting on the railing.

"You're late," he said as a way of greeting.

"Sorry," I shrugged. "Didn't realise you were on a tight schedule."

He rolled his eyes and fell in step beside me, slowly making our way to the beach. I realised he didn't reach for his phone once, but considering his cold glare and deep frown, I thought it'd be better not to mention it.

Instead, I had something else I needed to mention, and I really didn't want to do it.

I clenched my teeth, every nerve in my body screaming at me not to apologise to the arse. He doesn't deserve it, my brain screamed at me.

But I feel guilty! I screamed back.

"It took me two hours to get home yesterday," Everett said suddenly. He narrowed his eyes at me, his jaw set. "Two. Fucking. Hours."

I scoffed at his tone, the guilt beginning to fade, replaced by anger and irritation. He had that effect on me.

"Well, maybe you should've thought about that before being such an arsehole," I said pointedly. I sped my pace up, rolling my eyes as he lagged behind. "And hurry up. I'm late for work."

"Your little boyfriend couldn't give us a ride today?" Everett asked cockily. I turned to see him smirking snidely at me. He sped up to match my pace, grinning down at me. "Or did he finally get sick of you? I have to give it to him. Out of everyone in your little group, you're the last one I'd go for. And I'm straight."