Shoreline Drive (6 page)

At the edge of the gazebo, Taylor crouched down and wiggled the loose board at the back of the steps up to the stage, feeling around in the dirt.

Completely focused on the search for a nicotine fix she hadn’t craved in months, Taylor didn’t hear the steps behind her until a guy’s voice said, “Hey there. Did you lose something?”

Taylor would deny it with her last breath, but she let out a frightened squeak and whipped upright, whirling to face the tall boy staring down at her.

Silhouetted against the flickering light of the old-timey street lamp behind him, his face was cast in shadow. Taylor’s heart raced out of control as she realized she didn’t recognize him.

On an island so small that the entire high school only had two hundred students, that was a big deal. Taylor had been in classes with basically the same sixty-two kids since kindergarten. By the start of junior year, you’d think she’d know every single one of them well enough to recognize them even in the pitch-black dark.

Not so much.

Feeling like she’d swallowed a clutch of tadpoles and they were all swimming around in her belly, Taylor tossed her blond hair over her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Who wants to know?”

The guy put his hands on his lean hips. Big hands, she noticed with a nervous thrill. Broad palms, long fingers, bony at the knuckles like he was still growing into them. But at five foot nine, Taylor was one of the tallest girls in school—and this guy already towered over her by at least four inches.

She racked her brain for which guys from school were taller than her when they finished sophomore year last spring. But lots could happen over the summer—nobody understood that better than Taylor.

“You really don’t recognize me.” The guy ran his fingers through the short spikes of his buzz-cut hair. “Who would’ve thought getting contacts and a haircut would make that big a difference.”

Instantly more at ease, Taylor shivered in delight at the mystery. When the glow of the street lamp caught the edge of his sharp jaw, Taylor leaned back against the white bandstand railing and let a smile curl her lips.

“No more hints,” she told him, blood sparking with the thrill of something new, something different, something exciting.

“What, you don’t want to know who I am?” He sounded surprised, his deep voice cracking a little on the word “know.” Taylor breathed in and let the night air fill her lungs. An enigmatic pseudostranger was better than a smoke, any day of the week.

“Nope. But you know who I am, don’t you?”

“Taylor McNamara,” he answered promptly. She couldn’t see his smile, but she could hear it in his voice. “Sanctuary High’s resident bad girl.”

“Not anymore,” she protested, feeling the burn of shame across her cheekbones. Hopefully it was too dark out here for him to see it. “I turned over a new leaf last year. Not that anyone noticed.”

“Sorry if I touched a nerve.” He held up both hands in a placating gesture. “At least I recognize you. Whereas I’m clearly so forgettable that I’m invisible in a class of less than seventy. Besides—”

He pushed past her before Taylor knew what was happening, bending down to swipe his fingers through the dirt. When he straightened up, there was a crumpled pack of cigarettes in his hand, and even in the shadows, Taylor could see the lift of his dark brows.

“About that new leaf,” he started dryly.

“Okay!” Taylor lifted her chin. “The new leaf is … a work in progress. I have the occasional backslide. But whatever, I only do it out here, at night. Nobody else gets my secondhand smoke, my dad never has to know—it doesn’t even count, really.”

“I’ve got a new name for you: Sanctuary High’s resident rationalizer.”

“Shut up!” Taylor’s mouth twisted to hide a smile. “Seriously, I’m not, like, a smoker or something. I’m not addicted. But sometimes…”

She hesitated, but the darkness, the chilly air, and the anonymity of the quiet boy in front of her made it easier to talk. “Have you ever felt like the walls of your room are closing in? Like the whole house is heavy and pushing down, trying to smother you, and you just have to get out and away?”

The boy cocked his head to one side, and the angle of it tugged at Taylor’s memory. “Yeah,” he said softly. “I know what you mean.”

They shared a silent moment of understanding that warmed Taylor more than her hands jammed in her pockets. “Anyway,” she said, tossing her hair back. “You don’t get to go all judgy on me—we’re both lurking around the town square in the middle of the night.”

“And on a school night, too,” he murmured with a little laugh. “Which is why I’m out here. Couldn’t sleep—first-day jitters.”

“Funny. I’m actually looking forward to school starting,” Taylor confessed. “Or maybe I’m just ready to be done with my summer job.”

“You work out at Windy Corner Stables, right? I would’ve thought that would be a cakewalk since your dad is dating Jo Ellen Hollister. Doesn’t she own the barn?”

Small towns, Taylor reflected gloomily. Everyone was all up in everyone else’s business … but still only aware of half the story.

“It’s complicated,” she hedged. Pulling herself up by the railing, she swung up the steps and slipped onto the bandstand stage under the friendly darkness of the gazebo roof.

The guy followed her, his long legs taking the steps two at a time and carrying him over to sit down next to where Taylor had settled on the floor with her back to the wooden railing.

“You don’t like Jo,” he guessed. “Worried she’ll end up as your evil stepmother?”

“No, you’re way off.” Taylor rested her head against the wooden slats, content in the knowledge that her face was now as shadowed as his. “I love Jo. She and my dad have been together, off and on, for a long time. She’s already like a mom to me, ever since my mom died.”

“So what changed?”

Her real daughters showed up.

Before Taylor could swallow down the sudden lump in her throat and decide how to answer him, a pair of headlights swept through the gazebo in a glaring flash.

“Crap!” Nobody on this sleepy little island was out driving around this late except the cops. Scrambling to her knees to peek over the railing, Taylor searched for the lights. They weren’t shining out of Sheriff Shepard’s SUV, and she went limp with relief for about five seconds.

Until she recognized the dented rear bumper of the little gray four-door currently idling at the edge of the town square.

“Crap on a
cracker
!” Taylor squatted back down out of sight as the driver’s door opened. Her heart flapped against her rib cage like a seagull’s wings. Dropping her head into her hands, Taylor moaned, “Oh God, please let her get back in the car and drive away.”

She so didn’t want to deal with this tonight.

“Is that…?” The guy’s deep voice trailed off as he twisted to get a glimpse through the wooden slats.

“The reason I’m glad to go back to school? Yeah. One of my insta-sisters,” Taylor confirmed with a groan. “Merry Preston.”

“Taylor, is that you?” Merry called across the green.

Busted.

“You might as well come out. I know it’s you.” Merry was smiling like this was all a big freaking joke to her, and the indignation over that was enough to propel Taylor to her feet.

Propping her elbows casually on the gazebo railing, Taylor gave Merry her best bored stare. “What?”

Merry leaned against the car and peered over her shoulder into the darkened backseat. Swiveling her head to look at Taylor again, she said, “Come over here. If I keep shouting across the town square, I’m going to wake Alex up. Not to mention the rest of the island.”

If the baby was in the car, Taylor realized, then there was no way Merry was going to catch them if they decided to run. Every muscle in her body tensed for flight, but then Merry got this look on her face.

Kind of a resigned, knowing look. As if she could tell what Taylor was thinking and had already decided how Taylor would act.

And if there was one thing Taylor hated, it was being predictable.

“You don’t have to go down there if you don’t want to,” the guy beside her whispered. “I’ll make sure you get home okay.”

Taylor bristled, the warm intimacy of secret-sharing and trading confidences shattered. “I don’t need any help getting home, I’m fine on my own. But if she yells, someone could wake up and call the cops on a disturbance,” Taylor pointed out. “I’ll go see what she wants.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” He stood up, and for the first time that night, Taylor got a good look at his face.

Her jaw dropped open. “Fatty Matty?”

Ever since he and his mom moved to Sanctuary Island a few years ago, Matthew Little had been short and pudgy, round all over—from his moon-shaped face to the thick lenses of his glasses. But the guy beside her was no fatty. He’d shot up almost a foot over the summer, and his shoulders had widened while the rest of him slimmed down. Taylor could hardly believe her eyes.

Matthew froze into shocked stillness, like she’d whipped off her shirt and flashed him. His lean jaw hardened as he ground down audibly on his back teeth. “Not anymore. I’ve changed, and I thought you had, too … but obviously, I was wrong.”

Without giving her a chance to apologize or even catch her breath from the shock, he marched down the gazebo steps and away across the cut grass of the town square.

Taylor felt sick to her stomach. Kids at school all made fun of Matthew Not-So-Little, just not usually to his face. But the surprise, the unexpectedness of who her midnight confidant turned out to be— Taylor swallowed.

There was no excuse. She’d have to apologize to him at school tomorrow.

Great, there were the first-day jitters she’d denied having.

Sighing, she slunk out of the gazebo and trudged over to Merry’s secondhand car. Taylor prepared herself for one of those dumb grown-up questions like “What are you kids doing out here so late?” But what Merry said instead was, “Hop in. I’ll give you a ride home.”

“What if I’m not ready to go home?”

Merry glanced over Taylor’s shoulder. Turning her head, Taylor caught a glimpse of Matthew Little from behind, head down and strides long as he walked in the opposite direction, toward the Harrington house, where he and his mom lived as caretakers.

When did I turn into such an awful person?
Taylor wondered as her heart squeezed like a lemon.

“You’re ready,” Merry said gently. “Come on.”

She’d been running on adrenaline and the thrill of breaking the rules for hours. Now, having driven away the one person she’d found who seemed to actually understand her, Taylor didn’t have the energy to fight. For once.

Shoulders slumping, she slouched around the front of the car and climbed in without another word.

A car ride with one of her least favorite people in the world, who now had something to hold over Taylor’s head—as if it weren’t enough to swoop in and claim Taylor’s family as her own. And tomorrow, on Taylor’s first day as a junior, she’d have to suck it up and apologize to Matthew Little for being a total bitch.

Oh yeah. This was going to be a great year.

*   *   *

Merry checked on her son in the rearview mirror as she pulled smoothly away from the curb. Yep, still out like a light.

The sullen teenage girl next to her sighed loudly and made a point of staring out the passenger window for the first ten minutes of their drive. After the last few months of Jo and Harrison’s rekindled romance, Merry knew the way out to the McNamaras’ big white house overlooking the beach, but she almost asked for directions just to have something to say.

Merry saw a lot of herself in Taylor. They’d never made much of a connection, especially after the way Taylor had snooped around and made trouble between Ella and Grady. But there was always hope.

“So, who’s the guy?” Merry tried.

“Nobody,” Taylor muttered, leaning her temple against the glass of the window.

“He was pretty cute, for a nobody,” Merry observed, remembering the lanky kid with shoulders that showed the promise of breadth when he grew into himself.

“Surprise, surprise.” Taylor snorted. “Not like it matters, I’m sure he hates me now. Whatever.”

Merry recognized the thrum of pain and regret under Taylor’s attitude, and boy, did that bring back her own misspent youth. She wanted to ask why the boy would have reason to hate Taylor, but she didn’t truly need to.

The feeling that no matter what, she’d always be a screwup clutched at Merry’s throat, but it was only a reflection of the angry flush on Taylor’s cheeks. Changing the subject, Merry said, “I guess I should probably tell your dad or Jo about this. It’s the responsible thing to do…”

“Tell whoever you want.” Defiance pulled Taylor upright in her seat, her glare burning across the dimness of the front seat. “I don’t care.”

“You do care,” Merry said. “You care like crazy. But maybe I’m missing the point of all this curfew-breaking and running around with boys in the middle of the night. Maybe you want your dad to find out.”

“What?” Taylor scoffed as only a sixteen-year-old girl can scoff. “That’s stupid. Of course I don’t want him to know, I’d be grounded till prom.”

Merry, who had once been a sixteen-year-old girl with massive parental issues, said, “Sure. But at least you’d have his attention. And maybe Jo’s, too?”

Taylor jerked as if Merry had slapped her across the face, her pretty features tight with shock. “I’m not trying to get anybody’s attention! I’m not some dumb little kid who needs her dad to watch her go down the slide at the playground or something.”

“Sure you are,” Merry told her. “We all are, no matter how old we get. It’s one of the facts of life you learn as you go along. You never outgrow that need for your parents’ approval, and that’s okay. Just don’t go overboard with it.”

Taylor narrowed her eyes. “You mean like uprooting your whole life and moving to Sanctuary Island to live with your mom, even though you’re a grown-up?”

Zing! “Okay, that’s fair,” Merry acknowledged. “But clearly, that makes me an expert. I know what I’m talking about here.”

“So I should listen to you? Please. As if I’d want to end up like you, with a kid and no husband, no job, and no life.”