Knowing You

  The beast growled in anger and lunged for the sorceress. Thaylina was still too weak to aid the sorceress as she fought the beast. She could only hear the thunderous crashes of their battle. Until there was only silence.

  "Hi, Sophia?" I say slowly, but it sounds more like a question than a real greeting.

  "Hi!" she chirps happily, sitting across from me on the shuttle--smoothing her skirt beneath her so it doesn't wrinkle.

  "I didn't know you worked at the club."

  "I don't," she says, holding up her tote bag. When I still look confused, she explains. "I'm a member. I mean, my parents are members. Well, just about everyone's parents are members." I want to shake her to make her get to the point, but I continue to smile stiffly instead. "I'm going to the pool." She leans in like she's about to share a secret. "I usually go on Tuesdays but I found out Grant is lifeguarding today."

  I nod slowly, stiff smile still in place, not recognizing this chatty version of Sophia. It's like she's hopped up on something ... then again. "How do you know that?"

  "I have someone who works there make a copy of his schedule for me. I know, it sounds so sketch. But have you seen him? I mean, he is the most gorgeous guy I've ever seen. And he's so nice. Seriously, the nicest person ever. You know him, right?"

  Stiff smile. Nod.

  She sits up straight in her seat, posture pin straight, smiling like a lunatic. I need some of those happy pills.

  "I keep wanting to ask him out. But I can't even talk in front of him. Do you think he'd go to the Ever After Ball with me? I would die. Like, truly and completely, die."

  "Who are we talking about?" Ashton bounces down in the seat in front of me.

  Sophia shifts her eyes from Ashton to me, almost like she's asking my permission to reveal her crush.

  She bites her lip and whispers, "Grant."

  "Oh, right! How was that? I'm still pissed you didn't come to my room last night. Home by the stroke of my midnight, my little Cinderella." Ashton pats me on the head.

  "Are you high already?" Sophia asks Ashton in a paranoid whisper, shifting her eyes around to make sure no one's listening.

  "Sophia wants to ask Grant to the Ever After Ball," I intercept. Ashton's eyes grow wide in understanding.

  "Do you think I should?" Sophia asks Ashton, looking all nervous and adorable.

  "Um, I don't know. What do you think, Lana? I mean, you talk to him more than I do." She gives me her what the fuck look with a quick shake of her head. Sophia focuses on me, hope gleaming in her blown-pupil Bambi eyes.

  "You never know," I say. "You may be perfect for him."

  Ashton smacks me on the back of the head. "Sorry. You had a mosquito. Was going to suck out your brains and make you an idiot."

  Ow, I mouth, glaring at Ashton.

  "Do you think so?" Sophia squeals at my comment, ignoring Ashton's assault on me.

  "Excuse us a sec, Sofe," Ashton says, pulling Sophia from her seat and shoving her up the aisle.

  "Ashton!" I scold. She pushes her way into my seat and sticks her face right up in mine. "What the fuck--"

  "--is wrong with you?!" she finishes in a hiss. "I adore that little pumpkin perfect, but she is not meant for Grant."

  I roll my eyes. "It's not for me to decide."

  "Did something happen? Was he pissed that you punched out some guy to protect him? Because I thought that was pretty hot. And I didn't think he had an ego that would get all pissy about a girl--"

  "No, he wasn't mad. I mean, he didn't love seeing me get into a fight. But ..." I sigh. "Listening to Sophia go on about him made me question what the hell I'm doing. I am absolutely serious when I say I don't date. And if he wants that, it can't be with me. So, he needs to know he has options. I'm not an option."

  "What are you then?"

  "I'm ... me. No title. No commitment. No expectations. No emotional involvement."

  "I thought you didn't lie," she snaps angrily and gets up, leaving me dumbfounded, my mouth hanging open. What just happened?

  Ashton is assigned the bev cart with Rhett. I almost feel bad for him when she floors the cart and drives away in fury, bottles clanging on the shelves.

  I get sentenced to toddler-hell with Kaely at The Deck concession stand because every mother with a child is at the pool today to gawk at Prince Philip atop his thrown. It's kind of disgusting the amount of drool happening, and I don't mean the toddlers.

  "Do you have it?"

  The boy nods wrapping his chubby hands around the base of the ice cream cone.

  "Are you sure?"

  He nods again. I let go. And ten seconds later, it's on the ground. His bottom lip juts out and his eyes fill with tears.

  "Please don't scream, kid," I mutter. Then louder with a sing-songy voice, "No worries. I'll make you a special one."

  I pour soft-serve ice cream in a cup, stick a cone upside down on top of it, and throw gummy bears around it from my personal stash I store under the counter. Not Ashton's special gummies, though those might chill these sugar-hopped kids the hell out. Where are their parents? Why do I feel like half my job is babysitting when I'm stationed here? And today is especially chaotic.

  "I never want to work the stand ever again when Grant is on lifeguard duty," I grumble to Kaely.

  "It's usually not this bad on Tuesdays," she says. "It must be because of the holiday weekend. And, well ... him. So are you two--"

  "Nothing," I cut her off. "We're nothing."

  "Order's up!" Squirrel calls out. I walk away from her and her wide, shocked eyes.

  Squirrel is singing to a song that isn't playing anywhere but in his head, flipping burgers, turning dogs, and frying fries like he's on a ride at Disneyland. He is the happiest place on earth.

  "How do you function?" I ask, loading up a tray with the order.

  "Huh?" he asks, turning in my direction. His next words come out broken, like he's listening to them in his head before repeating them out loud. "Oh, um, I just ... exist. And like, express gratitude for being alive. You know?"

  "No," I say, and leave him to his gratifying existence.

  "Are you okay?" Kaely asks, wiping chocolate off the cheeks of a small child who couldn't find the spoons so decided to eat the hot fudge sundae with his face.

  "I'm ..." But I can't say it. I'm not fine. But I don't really know what's gotten into me, other than Sophia's comment on the shuttle.

  I search for her in her vintage polka dot bikini and cat-eye sunglasses. She's applying sunscreen and glancing up at Grant from beneath her dark lenses to see if he's watching. But he's not. He's watching the mayhem in the pool. He blows his whistle at some boys who are wrestling to push each other in. The ultimate professional. "He's so fricken nice, isn't he?"

  "He is," Kaely responds like it's an indisputable fact. "We all deserve a nice guy, Lana."

  "But he's not mine."

  "Then step aside girl," the third cashier says, walking by with popcorn and cotton candy. I almost forgot she was here. "Let someone else have a shot. There are plenty of us who would claim that man in a second."

  "Right. I should, step aside," I say feebly.

  Kaely opens her mouth so wide she looks like a blow-up doll. "You can't let your phobia claim you, Lana." She says this with such conviction, I half expect her to thrust her fist in the air. "You have to face it head on, and be stronger than your biggest fear."

  "What the hell you talkin' 'bout?" the girl asks from the other side of Kaely. "There ain't nothin' to be afraid of with that man, expect keepin' other women from stealin' him."

  "Grant wouldn't let anyone steal him," Kaely says like she's appalled by the idea and feels compelled to defend his honor.

  "Because it should be his choice," I say quietly.

  Kaely nods, like the argument is settled. But that's not what just happened. He needs to know what his choices are, or are not, before he can make that decision. I need to remind him.

  At the end of the shift, I feel sticky, sweaty and have ice cream
smeared in places that it shouldn't be. I never want to be a mother. After today, I'm contemplating getting my ovaries removed. Right now, I want nothing more than to shower and lie in a hammock with a book for the rest of the night.

  Ashton parks the bev cart as we pass. Rhett looks like he's about to kiss the ground and thank the Universe that he's still alive. She doesn't look at me. I can't believe she's this upset with me for doing the right thing. But I guess I don't really know her that well.

  As Kaely and I continue up the small hill to the main building, I spot Lily walking off the tennis court with Lance. She waves when she sees us. We walk by Brendan leaning against a golf cart talking with an older gentleman. Their conversation looks serious and intense--Brendan's probably offering him insider trading tips.

  "Lana!" I pause when I hear Grant's voice. Kaely does as well. I wish she'd keep walking. He runs up to us, still in his lifeguard gear. "Hi," he says with a bright smile.

  "Hi." Why do I feel like everyone stopped what they were doing to binge watch us like we're Netflix?

  "Are you guys still coming over tomorrow?"

  "I think so," I reply, glancing around. They really are staring. All of them. What the hell?

  "Can you come by early, like around noon?"

  "I can ask." This is so awkward. Go back to whatever you were doing, people! We're just talk--

  This thought is interrupted by Grant's lips. It's not a long kiss. But it's long enough for me to lean into him, forgetting we're not alone. Until I remember ... we're not alone. Grant pulls back and smiles. "I'll see you tomorrow."

  I can't move.

  Kaely is covering her mouth like a PG-girl. And everyone else dramatically goes back to whatever they were doing like they weren't watching, but it's so obvious they were.

  Ashton struts up to me and leans down so we're eye level. "He just claimed you in front of ev-er-ee-one. What are you going to do about that, huh? Because it's not nothing. Not to him." I think she's a second away from poking a finger into my chest, and that wouldn't go over too well. Instead she laughs like a villain and storms off.

  I try to shrug it off, like it really was nothing. Whatever.

  But I can't.

  "Shit," I groan.

  Just to rub it in, Brendan appears next to me and wraps an arm around me. "Didn't I warn you that he's too good for people like us?" He chuckles. "You have to learn everything the hard way, don't you, my feisty little pixie?"

  I shove his arm off and outpace everyone to the locker room. I don't bother looking over at Lance and Lily. Maybe they know that it won't last. That it's just a summer thing and means nothing. Someone needs to know this ... especially me.

  By the time Lance, Brendan, Ashton and I arrive at Stefan's the next day, I've convinced myself that I just have to be me, not the stupid, giddy version who loses herself every time I'm in Grant's presence. That way we can just be ... nothing. We can be two people who like to hang out and kiss, and maybe other things if he'll let me. But absolutely not us-like.

  Stefan, Squirrel, Grant and a couple other guys are putting out lawn games when we emerge from the house into the backyard.

  "We're really early," Ashton observes from beside me, finally acting normal again. Or at least, I hope she is. "Want to lay out for a while?"

  "Sure," I reply, walking toward the beach.

  When she doesn't walk with me, I turn around. She gives me a questioning look.

  "What?"

  "Aren't you going to at least say hi?"

  "They're busy," I tell her and keep walking.

  "Hey!" Grant calls to me. I stop and close my eyes, silently reminding myself to do what I always do when I'm around guys I hook up with. Just be me.

  I turn. "Hey." I fight the smile that wants to hijack my face. My heart is pounding. I silently curse my body which has completely abandoned the plan.

  He walks over to me and bends like he's about to either hug or kiss me. I do the worst thing I possibly could ... I take a step back. He straightens, completely confused. My pulse spikes.

  "We were going down to the beach," I say, trying to sound light and casual. "Unless you guys need help?"

  "No, that's fine." His voice is cautious, like he's trying to read me. I give him a tight-lipped smile. "I just wanted to say hi." Then he walks away. And my heart seriously twists in my chest.

  "So, this is you?" Ashton scowls in disapproval. "You're kind of a bitch." Then she walks off, leaving me alone with the truth.

  Yes, I am.

  I hide on the beach for the next hour while they finish setting up the backyard.

  I have no idea what I'm doing. I thought I was helping him by letting him see me. I wanted to remind him that I'm not his to kiss in front of everyone. To be claimed. I thought I made that clear. But this ... sucks. Because I like kissing him. And talking to him. Fuck! I like him. What the hell am I supposed to do with that?

  Because I'm also afraid of him. Or more accurately, of being destroyed by him.

  When a few more people arrive, they all come down to the beach and Stefan recruits me to play sand volleyball, claiming they're short a player--although Ashton is sitting on a chair, watching. And she's tall and plays volleyball for Blackwood. I've seen pictures.

  "I'm officiating," she tells me with a shrug, like it can't be helped.

  Of every sport there is, this is the one I truly and completely suck at more than any other. It's not a small person's sport--I can't spike or block; I get pummeled by my teammates because they don't see me under them when we both go for the ball, and I can't serve to save my life. I can dig. It's the only thing I'm decent at because I'm already that much closer to the ground.

  Predictably, Grant is on my team. And just to torture me, he's shirtless.

  I stand in front of the net, staring down my nemesis. "You're going to spend the game eating the ball from all the spikes someone else is going to shove down your throat."

  "You're adorable," Brendan says with a wink, totally killing my shit-talk. "Can you even reach the top of the net?"

  I flip him off and hear someone laugh. No, correction. I know exactly who's laughing.

  Grant.

  It's four on four, or three and a half, because I really am only half a player.

  "Do you know how to set up the ball for a spike?" Grant asks me when we're positioned next to each other in front of the net. I have my hands resting on my knees, like I know what I'm doing. But really, I'm just imitating everyone else.

  "No," I tell him.

  He takes the ball and demonstrates, tapping it straight up in the air with his fingertips. Then he tosses it over the net for Squirrel to serve.

  "If you do that, as high as I did, this far in front of me," he indicates with his hand, "I'll take care of the rest."

  "Okay," I reply, trying to sound like I understood. I didn't really.

  My team basically plays around me, hitting the ball before it's even remotely low enough for me to reach it, spiking it and throwing themselves on the sand like they're desperate to return a grenade before it hits the ground and explodes. I just try to stay out of their way.

  "Nicely done, Lana!" Ashton claps when I fall on my butt, barely avoiding getting trampled on by Lance.

  "Sorry," he says, offering his hand to help me up. "Didn't see you there."

  Our potential victory has come down to this game point. Grant and I are on the line again. "This is it. Lana. You're going to set me up." He doesn't look over at me, anticipating where the serve will go, but he offers that crooked grin that I'm fall--nope, not that ...that I like, a lot.

  The ball goes back and forth over the net. I tilt my head and watch it. As if Grant beckoned it, the ball starts floating down to me. I have a second to realize no one is coming to knock me out of the way. This is all mine. So ... I tip it back into the air with my fingertips. It doesn't rebound quite as high as Grant's did, but it's still high enough for him to jump up and slam it down, making a deep indent in the sand on the other side.
/>
  Our team hollers in triumph. Grant turns to ... I think he's about to hug me, but I slap his hand. Yup. I just gave him a high-five.

  "Good job!" I say, like he's a six-year-old. Grant's brows furrow. Stefan pats him on the back. Lance rushes in from behind to pick me up and spin me around.

  "Lana, I'm so proud of you. That was so good, my little pixie!"

  I laugh and almost topple over when he sets me back down.

  The group has gotten bigger by now, but it's still maybe only about twenty people.

  I sit on a chair next to Ashton, and Grant settles on the sand in front of us.

  "How did you do on the chemistry test?" he asks.

  "Right! I forgot to tell you," I say, almost too enthusiastically, trying to make this not so awkward anymore. But I'm failing. "I got a ninety-one. So thank you."

  "You knew it," he says, looking proud. "You just needed to learn it with your eyes open."

  I laugh.

  "How was the bev cart with Rhett?" I ask Ashton.

  "That boy doesn't have an off-switch," she says with a roll of her eyes. "I'm half tempted to set him up with Sophia."

  "You know Sophia, right Grant?" I ask, watching for a reaction. Not sure which one I'm hoping for though.

  "Yeah, uh, I tutored her last summer in biology. Nice girl. But yeah, she does have a tendency to talk a lot when she's nervous." No reaction, at all.

  "She's really sweet, though a bit ... neurotic," I say. "But she's pretty. And she has the coolest colored eyes."

  Grant looks at me, questioning.

  I hear Ashton groan and say under her breath, "Please stop."

  "I think she likes you. Maybe you--"

  "Foods up!" Stefan calls from the backyard.

  "I'm starving!" Ashton exclaims, pulling me off the chair. I look over my shoulder. Grant is still seated, watching me leave with a confounded expression. He may even look a little ... hurt.

  What did I just do? That's not how that was supposed to go. I was supposed to be reminding him of his options. Let him know that other girls are interested in him. But instead, it sounded like I was trying to set him up.

  "I think I get it," Ashton says, loading her plate with ... everything.

  "Are you high?" I ask, thinking maybe she has the munchies.

  "Not yet. I just like food." She licks the smudge of potato salad from her thumb. She does a quick scan to make sure no one's within earshot before leaning in to whisper. "You like him."