Beyond the Rising Tide Read Free Page A

the water. I want to join my friends, to be myself again. But there’s a deep ravine between them and me now, and I don’t know how to cross it. I don’t know where the bridge is. And I don’t know how to ask for directions.
    Tyler glances back at Tourist Girl with a tinge of regret. She’s gotten out of the water and is heading toward the bonfire.
    “I didn’t mean to interrupt your swim,” I say, gauging his loyalty.
    “It’s okay. I think Gem was getting cold anyway.”
    “Gem?” The name is so unexpected, it takes me a second to attach it to Tourist Girl. “Are her parents jewelers or something?”
    He gives a one-syllable courtesy laugh, then looks toward Tourist Girl, who’s peeling away her wetsuit like a corn husk to reveal her bikini top. She eases up to the fire and glances our way, giving me the stink eye like I’m a stray dog digging up her new flower bed.
    “Is she paying you to be her tour guide?” I ask. “Or are you showing her the ropes out of the kindness of your heart?”
    He gives me a chiding look. “It’s not like that. She’s here for a couple weeks on vacation, and her parents are out doing something tonight, so I invited her to hang out.”
    A breeze pushes a lock of hair into my face, and I brush it away, tucking it behind my ear. “How nice of you.” I try for sincerity, but my voice hitches on the last word, betraying my hurt.
    “Avery,” he says, his brow puckering, “we’re friends now, right?”
    Friends. Is it even possible for two people to be friends after ten months of dating? Ten months memorizing the lines of each other’s faces? Ten months stripping away barriers, sharing adventures and passions and pineapple milkshakes? All of those kisses and I love you’s made invalid with six little words: It’s just too much for me.
    “Of course,” I say quietly, pushing sand around with my toes. Because at least with friendship, there’s a ray of hope that things will return to how they once were. That someday he’ll see me not as a weight, but as the buoy I’d once been to him.
    “Good.” He leans down and plants a kiss on my forehead. It’s excruciating, a sting that spreads hot venom through my entire body. “I still care about you, Avery. I hope you know that.” He gazes at me for a moment, his jade eyes striking me again, deep inside, a wound I know will take days to heal. “Are you going to be okay?”
    I divert my eyes to the fire so he doesn’t see the pain there. Everyone is still casting curious glances our way, and I realize they’ve been watching us this whole time. I want to leave so I don’t have to see them look at me like I’m weird, don’t have to hear them whispering about last winter, about the boy who drowned saving me. About how they never found his body, and how I’ve changed since.
    “I’m fine,” I lie through a tight throat as I slide on a mask of serenity. I’ve gotten so good at it that it takes almost no effort.
    “Come on. I’ll introduce you to Gem. She’s really cool.”
    Lightning flashes on the horizon, and I take it as my cue to leave. “That’s okay. I think I’m just going to head home.”
    His shoulders slump. “But you made such an effort to come. Don’t leave now.”
    I want to laugh. Who’s he to tell me not to retreat when things get tough? “I’m really tired,” I say with honesty. “Long day at work. Can you tell Paige to get a ride home with Dillan?”
    He purses his lips and stares at me for a long moment. “Sure. I’m really glad you came. I’m proud of you.”
    I nod, feeling like a child, and then watch him go back to the bonfire and to Gem. She brightens as he sidles up to her and says something I can’t hear.
    I grab my shoes and walk away, the crowd’s laughter and chatter fading with each step. When I reach the road, I climb on a boulder to sit and watch the dark ocean from afar. Rows of foamy waves billow and roll in like storm clouds fallen to earth, their rhythmic sound lulling