Trouble From the Start Read online

Detective Watkins. Disappointment slammed into me, not so much because he was here but because Avery wasn’t. Slowly I turned. “Sure.”

  He sat down on one of the steps, indicated I should join him. I dropped down, stared at the street, the sky. Too many lights to see the stars. I didn’t want to talk to him, had a feeling I knew why he was here.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t notice that your name wasn’t called out tonight?” he asked quietly.

  “Thought you were there for Avery.”

  “We were there for you, too. You’re eighteen. I’m not legally your guardian. School isn’t going to give me any information. But I expected you to tell me if you had troubles.”

  “It wasn’t trouble. I didn’t pass algebra. It’s not a big deal.”

  “I’d argue differently. I think it’s important to get your diploma. Do you just lack the one credit?”

  I sighed. “Yeah.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  “Hadn’t really thought about it. I want to get my own place. I don’t have to have a diploma to fix cars.”

  “What if you decide at some point you want to go to college?”

  I barked out a laugh. “Yeah, right. I’m college material.”

  “You could be, if that’s what you wanted.”

  “Well, it’s not. I hate school.”

  “So you’re going to let high school beat you?”

  His words were like a punch. “What do you want me to do?”

  “Think about summer school. Get that one credit you need.”

  “Why do you care? Even in the beginning, way back when I was a stupid kid and you were a patrolman and I got caught shoplifting some sponge cakes and peanuts—why were you nice to me about it?”

  Clasping his hands, he dangled them over his knees, studied them. “When I was seventeen I got mixed up in something I shouldn’t have. Someone helped me, showed me that I didn’t have to keep on the path I was traveling on. It made a difference.” He looked at me. “You’re not a bad kid, Fletcher. You’ve had some tough breaks. Right now, life sucks. Probably will suck tomorrow, too. But hopefully one day it won’t.” He patted my knee. “Think about summer school. You could ask Avery to help you learn all that x variable stuff you’ll never use. She took after her mother when it comes to brains.”

  He unfolded his body and started down the steps.

  “Hey, Detective Watkins?”

  Turning, he faced me.

  “You still see that guy who helped you?” I asked.

  He grinned. “Every day. I married her.”

  Chapter 19

  AVERY

  I sat on a sand dune, slowly sipping a beer and watching the large pile of driftwood burn. Jeremy and Kendall were nearby but they were paying more attention to each other’s lips than to me. Which was fine. That was how it should be.

  A couple of guys and a girl were playing guitars and singing. Some people were dancing, some were playing in the surf. When we’d first gotten here, I’d visited with some girls I knew. Everyone was smiling brightly, laughing, looking like a ton had been lifted off their shoulders.

  We’d graduated. We were finished with school. The party should have felt different. Instead it kinda felt the same. I felt the same. Uninteresting, a third wheel.

  “We’re going for a walk,” Kendall suddenly said. “Want to go with us?”

  I knew her well enough to know she was only inviting me to be polite. “Thanks, but I’m enjoying the music.”

  “Will you be okay?”

  “I’ll be fine.” To prove my point, I took another sip of beer. Not sure why I thought that would prove my point, but I did.

  They wandered off, and I just absorbed the roar of the surf, the warm breeze, the full moon dancing over the waves. A guy dropped down in the sand beside me, nearly doing a face-plant. Straightening, he looked up at me with a goofy grin, his blond hair flopping into his eyes.

  “Hey, I’m Brett.”

  “I’m Avery.”

  “I know. I’ve seen you around school. How did we go through four years and never really meet?” he asked, his words fast then slow, as though he was having trouble keeping up with them. Maybe he was just nervous, although I wasn’t sure why he would be.

  “Hey, four hundred and fifty kids in our class,” I told him, even though he probably knew that. “Can’t meet everybody. But we met now.”

  “Yeah. You’re pretty.”

  “Are you drunk?”

  He straightened. “I’m offended.” He leaned toward me slightly. “Are you?”

  “I don’t think so.” I held up the bottle. “Well, maybe a little.”

  For no reason at all my neck began to feel warm, like someone had focused X-rays on it. I glanced around. On the far side of the fire, I saw Fletcher. I wondered when he’d gotten here. More importantly, why was he here? Had things not worked out with Morgan? He was watching me. Or at least it looked like he was. It was hard to be certain. He was standing so still, though, his head aimed in my direction. I turned my attention back to Brett. He was cute in a cuddly puppy kind of way. He seemed like someone who would be fun. Not someone who would be moody. “So where are you going to college?”

  That seemed to be the number one question everyone asked these days.

  “Community,” he said. “You?”

  “Austin.”

  “Cool. That’s not too far from here. I could come see you.”

  I smiled. “You mean like a date?”

  “Yeah.”

  “I’m not going until August.”

  “That’s even better. Wanna walk?” he asked.

  “Sure.”

  He struggled to his feet as the sand shifted beneath him, then held out his hand and helped me up. I did not mean to compare his hand to Fletcher’s but I couldn’t help it—it wasn’t as large, rough, or warm. I had a feeling that he spent a lot of time playing video games. He seemed just a little awkward as we walked toward the surf, his flip-flops slapping the wet sand. I’d taken mine off. I loved the feel of the beach on my bare feet.

  “What are you doing over the summer?” I asked.

  “Nothing. Just chilling.”

  “No summer job?”

  “Don’t need to work.”

  I probably didn’t need to work either, but I didn’t want my parents having to pay for everything and I wanted some independence. I was going to work at the Shrimp Hut, a restaurant on the beach not too far from where we were now. I didn’t know why I didn’t share that with him, why I didn’t really want to talk to him. He wasn’t creepy or anything. I just didn’t feel a connection. I couldn’t banter with him, not the way I did with Fletcher.

  I squeezed my eyes shut. Why was I suddenly comparing everything to Fletcher?

  “Over here,” Brett said, taking my hand and leading me away from the fire.

  Enough moonlight and stars were out to guide us.

  “Probably shouldn’t get too far from the party,” I said.

  “Why?” he asked.

  “I came with friends. Don’t want them getting worried or looking for me.”

  He stopped. “I can take you home.”

  Something about the way he said it made me feel odd. My dad had always instructed me to trust me instincts. “Nah, I’m good going home with my friends.”

  “I can change your mind.”

  The next thing I knew his arms were around me, and his mouth was pressing hard against mine, his tongue pushing at the seam between my lips. I shoved him away. He staggered back.

  “I heard you were easy,” he said.

  “You heard wrong.”

  “I just want a kiss.”

  “I don’t want to kiss you.”

  He grabbed my arm—

  I kicked him hard between his legs, and with a tortured groan, he crumpled into the sand.

  Hearing clapping, I spun around. Fletcher was sauntering toward me. “All right, karate kid. I was just on my way to rescue you.” He stopped beside me, his grin a flash