Over It (The Kiss Off #2) (15 page)

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Authors: Sarah Billington

BOOK: Over It (The Kiss Off #2)
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It wasn’t wet… yet.

“Please…” Mads said. “I’m sorry. Just don’t-”

Nikki’s determined, furious expression softened a little. She looked vulnerable, embarrassed. Something big had gone down between them and I had no idea what it was.

Nikki opened her mouth to speak, but before she could even get the first syllable out, Hamish splashed through the water and lunged at her. He tackled her onto the wet sand, water rushing over them both.

Nikki screamed, but Hamish held her still so she couldn’t escape, laughing to himself at his success. Job accomplished! He thought it was funny, he was being all playful. Maybe he thought he was flirting. Nikki, meanwhile, stared at Mads, drenched and horrified.

That’s when I realized it had been an empty threat. She would never have actually destroyed the dress but it was ruined anyway. Mads screamed in anguish and kicked a spray of sand into the air. Before she could move, I body–slammed her into the shallows, my burnt shoulders searing with pain as I landed on top of her in the mud–like sand. She wriggled and writhed, but I knew I couldn’t let her go, not now. She’d probably slap the bejeezus out of Nikki after that.

“Stay down, Mads,” I said.

She turned her head to the side and spat out sand; half of her face and wig were sticky with the stuff.

“I got her,” Hamish said to me, “now what?”

“What the hell, Nikki?” I said. “Why?”

“I was just retaliating for what she did,” Nikki said. “I wasn’t really going to, not on purpose. I swear.”

Retaliating? What had Mads done?

“It’s just a dress, Mads,” I said, “a dress you didn’t even pay for. She didn’t mean for it to go this far.”

“I didn’t,” Nikki said, shaking her head. She shook Hamish’s grip loose and they just sat there in the shallows, the tide ebbing and flowing around them, the dress darkening as salt water seeped into its every fiber. It didn’t matter now.

“What is your problem?” I muttered into Mads’s ear. “What did you do to her? Can't you cut her some slack?”

“Why should I? She's infuriating! She's
everywhere
Hamish is and…” She glanced up at Hamish and Nikki watching us, then mumbled, her lips barely moving, “she looks at him with those huge bedroom eyes of hers. I don't know how she does that kind of squinty thing, but I can't stand it. I can’t stand
her
. Why should I be friends with her after what she did to you?”

“She didn't do anything to me,” I said, turning us around so our backs were to Nikki and Hamish. “I was the dick, remember?”

“Hos before bros, Poppy. She went after your boyfriend seconds after you broke up and friends don’t do that.”

“That’s my problem, not yours,” I said. I cranked the volume on the conversation for Nikki to hear. “Forgive her. Please. Can you two just move past the hate already? Isn’t it exhausting? It’s exhausting
me
. It makes me really sad that you two can’t get along, not even for me. I just wish you’d sort your shit out because you have so much in common, I know you’d get along if you just allowed yourselves to.”

Mads was still, her body no longer tensed up and straining against me. I let her go and she sat up, wiping clumps of wet sand from her skin.

“Not everyone in the world gets along, Poppy,” she said, glancing angrily at Nikki. “And that’s fine; not everyone has to. She and I don’t need to be friends. And I’m sorry that it upsets you, but you’ll just have accept it because it’s not happening. We will
never
be friends. We just won’t.”

She got to her feet and brushed down her legs. Her eyes flicked to Hamish with embarrassment and she stomped up the beach toward the dunes without a backward glance.

I turned to Nikki for confirmation.

She shrugged and shook her head, looking pained. “I’ve tried, Poppy, I really have.”

“You call this ‘trying’?” I asked, motioning to the dress.

Nikki flared her nostrils. “She had it coming. She’s a crazy person; I’ve had to turn my cell off, and you want to know why? Because
someone
wrote my number above the urinals in the men’s room telling them to ‘call Nikki for a good time’.”

Oh. That was pretty cruel.

“That’s you?” Hamish asked.

It was like he was
trying
to make things worse.

“I’ve been getting creepy calls for hours,” Nikki continued. “I’m going to have to change my number when we get home. Seriously, what do you even see in her? She’s right about one thing, at least. We’re
not
going to be friends.”

Nikki dragged a hand through her wet hair and pushed it off her face. “I’m going for a shower,” she said, and squelched her way back up the beach.

This trip was not going according to plan. It seemed like the second I had gotten to Tallulah Bay, everything had gone to shit. No, not then. It had started at my house when Nikki had first arrived. It was all my fault.

How was I supposed to write a demo for the Debutante Dolls with all this drama
going on? And a girl power one, at that. It really was all my fault. What had I been thinking bringing the two of them here?

I sat on the dune in the dark with Hamish and silently watched the waves crash in to shore; the crests sparkled in the light of the moon. Further up the beach, gulls surrounded groups on the picnic benches. Someone threw some bread and the gulls flapped and squawked, all diving for it at once, smacking each other out of the way with their wings.

I closed my eyes and breathed in the cool, fresh breeze after a long, hot, exhausting and painful day.

I winced as I gingerly touched the back of my head where I’d clocked it good when Ty had dropped me. I ran my fingers carefully over the bump; I couldn’t believe he had dropped me, but then again, knowing the sort of luck I had these days, it also felt like just another day in the life of Poppy Douglas.

I squirted some more aloe into my palm and rubbed the cool gel over my shoulders and arms. I was going to be brown tomorrow. I was not going to be painfully burned. Blinking wearily, I pondered my song. What was it going to be about? They wanted girl power, huh? My stomach clenched with nerves; I had less than twenty–four hours to write and record a kick–ass song. To come up with something amazing. I took a few deep breaths and blew them out slowly. It was okay. That was a super–tight deadline but I’d done it before. Hell, I wrote, recorded and uploaded
The Kiss Off
in maybe two hours and we all know how that turned out.

But back then I didn’t have the pressure of a world famous girl band expecting great things from me. Or other distractions.

As my gaze wandered over the sand, from the bonfire to camping chairs set out facing the ocean, to people dancing to the beat of the bongos, I decided that Mads and Nikki and their competition over Hamish wasn’t very inspiring in regard to girl power.

Someone shrieked and laughed and a couple of girls split away from the dancing crowd. I watched them skip over to the bonfire and I smiled at the sheer freedom they seemed to be experiencing, full of joy and life as they danced and skipped around the fire. At the front of the group was Astrid. Orange light and shadow flickered over her body, lighting up her smiling face.

My pocket chirruped and I checked my cell. Three missed calls from Ty. Oops. There was a text too, which read, ‘
Go directly to the jetty. A handsome stranger would like to meet you
.’

My gaze roamed across the sand toward town. Across from the main shopping strip sat the yacht club and a lush green park (complete with pagoda and miniature pirate ship for kids to play in), before a few short steps to the beach, marina and long jetty.

Handsome stranger, hey? I sat motionless for a moment, staring toward the jetty. I had had enough surprise meetings with strangers today, and if it was Ty (as I assumed it was), we hadn’t exactly left things in the best place earlier, either. But it was still Ty. And if he’d changed rooms then I guess we would be good again. I didn’t understand why he wasn’t taking this stalker business more seriously. I mean, she broke and entered – or entered, at least – his room when he wasn’t there. Went through his iPod and who knew what else. She was not just a super–fan. Who in their right mind would seriously break into someone’s room and upload their own playlist to their desire’s iPod? She would have had to bring a laptop and everything. I didn’t want to think about the level of preparation that would have gone into that.

Normal people didn’t do it. I shuddered at the thought of this chick. I imagined crazy, wide eyes, a humongous smile and a need to be right up in your face. Super–close–talker–girl.

Super–close–talker–girl
. That could be a fun song. Wonder if she’d put
that
on her playlist.

I wondered if he’d seen her this afternoon at all. I wondered if Ty had changed rooms. Surely he wouldn’t be texting me if he hadn’t.

“Who was that?” Hamish asked.

“A handsome stranger,” I said, “Ty, I think.”

This caught his attention. He scoffed and said, “Lame.”

I stood up and brushed sand off the back of my legs. I stood nice and close to Hamish so as to transfer it all to him.

“Are you sure it’s Ty?”

It had to be. “Ninety per cent. Ninety–five per cent.”

“You’re so weird.”

“Back atcha.”

“You want me to come?” he asked.

“Um…
no
,” I said. I was heading off for a moonlit tryst with my boyfriend… no, I did not want my cousin to come along and watch. Ew.

“Whatever,” Hamish said,and turned his attention back out to the water. He threw a rock toward the waves. He looked kind of pathetic and lonely, sitting there.

“You going to be okay?”

“I’m cool,” he said, standing up. “Think I’ll grab a beer.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Okay,” he said.

“Cool,” I said.

“Cool,” he said.

I rolled my eyes and he grinned and ambled toward the bonfire. I had a quick glance around. No one was paying the slightest attention to me, so I went on my way.

I walked barefoot in the shallows, my shoes in one hand, aloe vera bottle in the other. One thing could be said for the beach: best exfoliator ever.

Lost in my own thoughts, I wasn’t prepared for what happened next. I really should have been more alert.

“Hey there pretty lady.” A low, gruff voice growled in my ear and hands snaked around my waist from behind, trapping me to him. I screamed; screamed like I’d never screamed before and jerked away, but his arms tightened around me.

“Hey–hey–hey,” the man said, his beard brushing against my neck.

It wasn’t Ty; abort! The handsome stranger wasn’t Ty! I screamed again and suddenly his hand was over my mouth.

I was going to die. I was alone on the beach in the dark and I was going to die. I’d watched the crime channel, I knew this was how women ended up murdered and floating face down, or found stabbed to death in a lifeguard station.

“Get away from me!” My words came out muffled and quiet under his warm palm. His calloused fingers pressed against my cheek. My heart was in my throat, choking off my air supply. His hand clamped over my mouth wasn’t helping the breathing situation either.

“Just ssh, will you?”

“Let me go! Help!” I dug my elbow into the guy’s ribs and he doubled over with a groan. His arms went slack around me. I dashed thirty feet up the beach before I turned around to put a face to my attacker. You know. For the police sketch artist.

“Poppy, it’s me!”

It was a homeless man, or at least he looked homeless, in fisherman pants and a tattered army jacket. The beard was pulled down, hanging loose around his neck, and he pulled off the ratty trucker cap that had cast his face in shadow. His eyes were wide with urgency.

Wait, I knew that homeless man.

My heart beat extra hard for a second, adrenaline exploding through my system as I bent at the waist, breathing hard with relief.

“How did you sneak up on me?” I said. “How did I not hear you? Jesus, Ty!”

He laughed in surprise and rubbed his ribs. “Well that went down differently than I’d expected.”

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