College party. That somehow sounded even worse. If it wasn’t bad enough to be surrounded by my peers, hollow-headed morons who didn’t even know the name of the original author of my favorite book, which they then proceeded to ruin by dumping me in pools, college guys were their own kind of awful by being intimidating. Judging me for still being in high school, judging the way I looked and how I dressed, assuming I never knew what they were talking about (and they were always wrong).

“C’mon…” said Bree. “It’s going to be wicked awesome, and It’ll get your mind off Riley and Vik.”

My eyes perked up. “You sure Riley won’t be there?”

Bree shrugged. “Not unless he knows the same people I know, which I doubt. He doesn’t seem to know anyone.”

“And you can promise not to invite him?”

“Of course!” said Bree. “I promise.”

Unexpectedly, my heart sank. I wasn’t sure why. I didn’t want to think about him, or Vik, or ‘Ms. Epistola,’ or Vik’s stupid book. In theory, meeting new people, even if they were intimidating, judgmental college kids, would be good for me, right?

So why did it make me feel so low to hear Riley wouldn’t be there?

“Okay,” I said, ignoring the deep sense of foreboding in my heart.

“I’ll go.”

Chapter Eight: Contaminated

I could hear the ocean’s roar on the other side of the dunes before we even saw it, and it made me shudder. Ugh. The sheer vastness of it, the terrible creepy crawlies that lived in it, the unsavory feeling of salt clinging to my skin on the rare occasions I’d ever dared to step into it. And it seemed like every time I had, something awful happened. One time, as I ran out of the waves my first summer here (having been dragged in by Bree, of course) I stepped on a jellyfish. Not the stinging kind, but I still slipped and fell, and it was disgusting! Worse was the time a shark nipped at my heels. I avoided the water for two years after that. It didn’t draw blood, and its dorsal fin didn’t break the surface, but I just knew it was a shark that had gone for the gold and missed. I just knew.

The second I stepped onto the beach to join the party, I could tell I was in over my head. I couldn’t begin to fathom how Bree carried herself with such confidence, striding onto the sand, her curvy hips bobbing back and forth. I sighed, swallowing my doubts. I wanted to do this. I wanted to be here.

Didn’t I?