Until Alex - J. Nathan Page 0,28
from Preston to last me a lifetime. It just opened me up for questions I wasn’t ready to answer.
An hour into our night, I sat painfully sober on a surfboard beside Chloe.
“Alex,” Chloe slurred. “You’re so peeertty.” She stroked the top of my head like a little puppy.
“Thanks.”
“No, I’m serious. You’re veeerrry peeertty.”
“Leave her alone, Chlo. Ryan’s looking for you.” Taylor pulled Chloe to her feet and sent her on her way down the beach. “Yeah, probably should’ve warned you,” she said, taking Chloe’s vacated seat. “She has trouble handling her liquor.”
Chloe staggered down the beach until she was devoured by the night.
“I’m sure Ryan isn’t complaining.”
Taylor laughed. “You’re probably right.”
We both gazed out at the water for a long while. I wondered if Taylor knew what it was like to have her entire world turned upside down. To have everything she ever knew or loved taken away from her. She seemed so put together, so full of life, so adored by everyone. Did she wear a mask like me?
“So, next time. I’m driving.”
“I’m holding you to it.”
She smiled. “That’s if there is a next time. Are you having fun?”
No. “Sure.”
“Yeah, until Chloe throws up in your backseat.” I must’ve grimaced because she bumped her shoulder to mine. “Don’t worry. I’ll help you clean it. Actually, that’s a lie. But I’ll hire someone to do it.”
We both smiled.
A football player the size of a shed jogged over, kicking sand all over us.
“Robbie,” Taylor whined.
Her complaining didn’t faze him. He leaned down and yanked her up, tossing her over his shoulder. She squealed as he charged toward the water, sand kicking up behind them. Soon they were swallowed up by the darkness. And I’d been left alone. Alone on a surfboard in the middle of a party where I knew no one.
I would not feel sorry for myself. I would not.
* * *
When I pulled into my parking lot a little after one, my eyes flashed around. I’d like to say I sought a closer space, but that wasn’t the truth. I searched for Hayden’s truck which wasn’t there.
I blew out a disappointed breath, taking windblown pieces of hair with it. I had that same let down feeling in the pit of my stomach. The one I got at the beach every time someone new showed up and it wasn’t him.
I know.
Stupid.
CHAPTER NINE
ALEX
Taylor waltzed into the dining hall, totally owning her plaid shirt, almost nonexistent jean shorts, and cowboy boots. Only a girl as stunning as her could pull off the cowgirl look. Even in Texas.
“Hey, Tay,” Chloe greeted her with a smile.
Ignoring Chloe all together, Taylor slid into the seat beside her and across from me. Her eyes moved over the features of my face, inspecting every inch, every line, every imperfection.
I could feel my brows furrow. “What’s up?”
She didn’t answer. Her eyes continued their scrutiny. I couldn’t decide if she thought I plumped my lips or shaved down my nose. She couldn’t think I had implants. C cups were pushing it for me.
“Seriously, Taylor, you’re starting to freak me out.”
Her eyes landed on mine, her glossy lips in a tight line. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
All conversations within a twenty-foot radius ceased.
My head shot around. Everyone stared. “I don’t think so.”
Taylor’s perfectly waxed brow arched. “Does SSC Voice ring a bell?”
My frantic eyes searched for posters on the walls, signs on the cluttered bulletin boards, anything to explain what the hell she was talking about. “What’s that?”
Chloe chimed in. “It’s SSC’s version of The Voice. This year the winner gets an invite to try out for the real television show.”
Taylor crossed her arms, her accusatory eyes narrowed. “Strange you don’t know since your name’s right below mine on the audition sheet.”
I gasped. “What?”
“My question exactly.”
Heat radiated in my cheeks. My waves shook back and forth slapping me in the face. “I have no idea. Maybe it’s someone’s idea of a joke. A very bad joke.”
Taylor’s face softened. A smile stretched across her lips. “I sure hope not. I’d love for you to be in it with me.”
“You would?” My voice dropped at her sudden one-eighty.
“Of course, silly. Did you really think I was mad?”
Yes. “Well—”
“It’s not like I’m worried. I’ve won the competition three years in a row.” Conversations around us resumed. “Can you even sing?”
I paused, wondering if I should’ve been insulted by how easily she dismissed me as a worthy opponent. I shrugged it off, more interested in how my name ended up on