Page 2 of Pretty Little Island

The beaches are nice here, and there are landscaped parks with grassy areas and huge elm trees that scream old money. Very different from where I grew up in Portland.

The view of the sun indicates late afternoon. My dad and his wife, Maggie, will worry if I’m gone too long—and have been worrying ever since I arrived in New Ocean three weeks earlier. It didn’t take me long to find my place of solace at this beach, away from their judgment.

I’m the disgraced daughter.

I heard the whispers of my arrival. I felt the lingering looks at the coffee shop, the stares of recognition that I am Charles King’s daughter. I rarely see anyone my age, few people pay attention to me, and certainly no one makes any effort to welcome me. I doubt my father told anyone the real reason I moved here, as to not besmirch the name he’s trying to rebuild, which is fine. I’d rather be invisible, anyway. I’m hoping I will be a faded memory for those who used to know me.

I spent my first few days wandering the shops and stores on Main Street until I found a used bookstore and took up residence at the park near the ocean. Time is stagnant here—nothing’s changed since I left, but not all the memories here were horrible. We lived a good life before my mom and I moved, and sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I stayed.

Would I have been happier?

All summer, it’s been quiet and heavenly, with just waves and seagulls brushing my ears. Since I arrived, I’ve read over thirty novels, which has helped ease my anxiety about starting a new school at eighteen. I’m worried about fitting in since groups will have already been established, and the town and school are pretty small. Reading helped me forget about my home for the last eight years and exist in the in-between before enduring another year of high school. This place is peaceful, but I know it won’t last much longer with summer ending.

What’s kept me at the beach longer than normal today is a group, of what I’m assuming will be my new peers, hanging out thirty feet away.

Six of them—four guys and two girls, from what I can tell.

I’m trying to focus on my book with my sunglasses hanging down the brim of my nose and avoid making eye contact with any of them. They weren’t here during the summer, so I assume they were vacationing, which I used to do. In fact, the whole beach is full of people today.

One girl shrieks, and I can’t help but stare at the group who set up close to me. They have the best spot on the beach, and everyone else seems to give them a wide birth. However, I full-on stare at them, then lower my book when an attractive blonde girl hangs off one guy as he sits alone with his back toward everyone else. The way she is positioned, pressing her chest into his back and kissing the nape of his neck, tells me she is claiming him. His body language seems rigid, and he doesn’t seem to respond to her.

The alpha.

The girl gives up and lies on a towel with her friend, both wearing swimsuits and tanning in the sun. She spans her attention to the two other males—wrestling and roughhousing nearby—vying for attention and leering at them. It’s like an episode of Animal Kingdom, and they are akin to monkeys in some sort of mating competition. If pressed, I bet they’d all turn on each other on a dime. They appear attractive from a distance, but I can’t see the details of their faces. A bigger guy, the size of a football player, walks and sits next to the alpha. They face the ocean, just as I have all summer long.

I lean back and take a sip of my water, forgetting to hide the fact I’m leering at them, too. I see a lot of myself in the blonde girl, or at least, the girl I used to be before my life shattered and all my friends stopped talking to me.

The blonde girl whips her head toward me. I pull my sunglasses over my nose and sit upright, trying to calm my climbing heart rate. I’m not that girl anymore, and I don’t want my first conversation with my new classmates to be with her. She’s the big fish in a small pond—probably a barracuda.

It’s too late; she saw me looking. She stands and wipes sand off her bottom before she walks over to me, jerking her head to the other girl to follow. She looms in front of me, and I lower my sunglasses and smile at her—a courtesy she doesn’t provide me back.

She tilts her head and peers at me through her designer glasses. The other brunette positions herself behind her as they stand over me.

“Who are you?” the blonde asks with genuine curiosity etched in her voice. “And why are you staring at us?”

I’m glad the sun has already reddened my face as I feel the heat rush right to it. I swallow but keep my voice steady, despite my shaking hands. “I wasn’t staring at you. I’m just sitting here reading.”

Her mouth tightens. “Umm, yeah, you were. I saw you.”

My breath deepens, but I hold it in and shrug, seeming as disinterested as possible. “I didn’t realize you owned the view,” I say curtly.

A laugh escapes her friend, and the blonde tenses. I have to be careful with my sharp tongue, even though I’m right. I’m trying not to be that girl anymore—the one who seeks attention. Her face flushes, suggesting she’s not accustomed to being spoken to like this.

She snorts and looks back at her friend, who turns her laugh into a scowl. I wasn’t meaning to stare; well, not openly, anyway.

I apologize and ignore her dark expression, keeping my sunglasses off so she can see the sincerity in my face. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m new in town, and I’ve been coming here to read. It’s just a nice view.”

It’s an apology without actually apologizing. I mean, she doesn’t own the beach.

She grins and nudges her friend behind her. “Hear that, Serena? Apparently, she was admiring the view.” She gestures toward the guys, who are all packing up and drying themselves off with towels. All muscles, height, and pure testosterone glistening in the sunshine. “It is a nice view, isn’t it?”

Even though I’m far away and can’t see them clearly, it’s a nice view, indeed.

The pretty brunette stands forward, the nicer of the two. “Can you tell us who you are? We’ve never seen you here before. We’re not trying to be mean.”

Yeah, right, I’ve seen these intimidation tactics before. She is sniffing out my weaknesses, finding out what I’m made of. With a girl like Serena and her blonde leader, I’d stand up for myself, but with my confidence rocked, the words I try to muster up don’t come. It’s easier to stay quiet and hope they go away.

The blonde alpha female speaks next. Her voice is sweet, but everything about her has an edge. “So, umm, can you tell us your name? Or are you going to sit and stare at us all afternoon?”