a lost cause. You’re lucky you’re so pretty.” She pinches my cheeks, speaking in a voice reserved only for talking to babies and animals, then gives me a once-over.
I look down at my cut-off jean shorts, white Converse, and a tight, white, long-sleeved shirt. “What?” I ask defensively.
She tilts her head to the side, assessing. “One minor improvement,” she says, pulling my hair out of the messy bun on top of my head. My long blonde hair falls to the middle of my back, a slight wave to it since I didn’t bother to blow-dry it after my shower. Valen ushers me to sit in the chair at her vanity and I watch in the mirror as she uses her still-hot flat iron to straighten only the ends. She pumps something into the palm of her hands before rubbing it into my hair, making it shine, then finishes it off by spraying my roots with something that gives it much more volume than I have naturally.
“Voila,” she announces, using both hands to ruffle my hair. “Instant Victoria’s Secret Angel hair.”
I nod, impressed. “You have a gift.”
She curtsies, dipping her head. “Thank you. Now let’s go.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re walking along the rocky beach toward the blazing bonfires a few feet away. Music blares from somewhere, and there are clusters of people scattered everywhere, spread out from the beach to the cliff above us. There’s no way all of these people go to Sawyer Point. I don’t recognize half of them.
Valen’s boyfriend, Liam, is surrounded by a gaggle of college girls by the looks of it, and a couple guy friends when he spots us and breaks away.
“Hey, baby,” he says before promptly shoving his tongue down her throat with a hand on her ass. Liam’s at Northeastern, but you’d think he’s been on the other side of the world by the way he greets her.
Valen pulls back, breathless. “Hi.”
“Well, look who’s back from the dead,” Liam says as he wraps his arms around Valen from behind, just now noticing my presence. Valen elbows him in the ribs, sending him a disapproving glare for his poor word choice. “Shit, my bad. Welcome home, Shayne.”
“Much better,” Valen praises.
I roll my eyes, hating that she thinks people should walk on eggshells around me now. I’m not some fragile little flower. “Hey, Liam.”
“You ladies need a beverage?”
Valen nods and Liam gestures for us to follow him.
“So that’s going well, I assume,” I say, walking a few paces behind him.
“Yeah.” She shrugs.
He leads us over to a group of people surrounding a bonfire, the tall pieces of wood used to kindle the fire forming a teepee. Liam bends over, grabbing two plastic cups from a bag.
“I hope keg beer’s okay. We’re out of the hard stuff.” He plucks the hose while his friend pumps the keg, filling up the first cup for Valen. His friend takes the second one, filling it up for me.
“Matt, this is Shayne,” Liam says, nodding his chin at me. “My girl’s best friend.” Then he looks at me. “Matt goes to Northeastern.”
“Nice,” I say, unsure if I’m supposed to be impressed by that information, or if he’s just making small talk. “Congrats,” I tack on. I almost ask what they’re doing back in Sawyer Point instead of at some college party, but I keep it to myself, not wanting to offend. Matt’s the typical Bostonian, preppy frat boy with his long sleeves bunched up on his forearms, khaki shorts, Ken-doll hair, and boat shoes to top it all off. In other words, one million percent not my type.
He sends me a wink, handing me the cup. Liam tugs on Valen’s arm, taking an empty chair around the fire, before pulling her onto his lap.
“You still in high school?” Matt asks.
I nod.
“Very nice.”
I look away, uncomfortable with the way he leers at me. I stare out at the fire, hearing it crackle before it spits out a few embers that seem to disintegrate into the night sky. I’m hypnotized by the flames, the scent, the sound, as Matt drones on about something beside me. Something beyond the flames catches my attention, snapping me out of my eye lock.
Holden, Christian, and Thayer.
The sight of them together sends a jolt of sadness through me. Danny’s absence is almost tangible.
The three of them couldn’t be more opposite, each of them having their role. First, there’s Holden. The playboy. The comedian. Has a heart of gold somewhere underneath all that debauchery. Then there’s Christian. The