Bad Taste (Part II) // Colby Brock

211 - Rebecca

"Whatcha gonna do about it?" Jake taunted from the water, swaying from side to side like the water. I was glaring at him, my whole body burning with angry energy.

No, this was what I needed.

"Asshole. Come over here and find out."

Jake zipped from the water to tackle me, sending me into the sand beneath him. He was slightly wet but I was pretty sure I was worse since his vampiric speed had sent an entire wave at me. He reached down to tickle me, though I was already kicking him off. He rolled to the side as I sat up, throwing sand at his legs so it stuck to it.

"That's low," he growled, leaning forward to brush it off—we both knew it wouldn't help.

"So was fucking splashing me!" I climbed to my feet and brushed off what I could. Who knew where I was going to find sand later.

Jake found his feet, too, and suddenly he was smiling at me. I rolled my eyes, checked my phone was still alive, then grabbed a chunk of sand to throw at him again. He let out a playfully pained snarl as he dramatically fell down only to spring back up and throw a punch—one that'd never hit me, but one I blocked none the less.

I punched him lightly in the stomach a couple of times before letting him fake land a punch on my face, turning it sideways to play along. He was laughing as he pretended to catch me before I could fall, and he threw me over his shoulder. I almost screamed but held it in, kneeing him in the shoulder instead. He didn't let me go.

"Jake!" I screeched. He threw me some distance across the beach ensuring I landed in the softest sand, then he ran at me. I didn't know what came over me, just that a squeal-laugh slipped out of my throat and I hit the ground. Jake zipped away from me as I sat there trying not to giggle more, though I really wanted to. I was smiling to myself, looking for my target.

Jake was standing next to a sandcastle now, exclaiming how it'd been left behind. "Look how big it is! I should add to it. Do you think I should add it it?" He wasn't asking me, but I walked over to him anyway. His eyes moved to me for my opinion and, instead of giving it to him, I kicked the sandcastle over.

"No!" he screamed as if I'd just killed Tara. I was smiling at him, strangely in an good mood. And he must have seen that I was proud because he tried to attack me again, only to be cut off by Tara herself. She threw herself into him, causing them to roll a couple of times in the sand giggling. When they stopped, they were looking at each other fondly.

That gave me an idea.

My eyes flicked around the beach for Colby, finding him in the middle of speaking with Sam and Kat as he watched me. He seemed to finish his sentence then smile, and I was about to wave him over when Jake got up from the sand into my view.

"I think we should call a truce," he announced, hunching forward on his knees.

"Who are you talking to?" Tara asked.

"Both of you."

I shook my head. "I think Tara and I should team up. What chance would you have then?" Jake's eyes narrowed but he didn't finish his train of thought out loud like I wanted, instead taking a step back.

"It's a truce or mutual destruction, ladies. Pick."

"Or an alliance and your destruction." Tara came to stand next to me, crossing her arms. I mirrored her and Jake visibly paled, then he turned and took off down the beach. "I got him," she promised and disappeared after him. They were running too fast for me to see.

So, I looked back toward Colby to find him alone, Sam and Kat lounging next to the water. He didn't meet my eyes this time, which I was grateful for, because if he had, I didn't think I would've had the guts to walk up to him. Judging the hearing range, I didn't say anything until I'd pulled him so far down the beach that neither Sam nor Jake or Tara could hear us, and I said what'd been on my mind for a little while now.

I said, "I don't know what's wrong with me."

"You're grieving."

"No." I shook my head, fiddling with the sleeve of the hoodie. "No, I'm not grieving at all. I'm just... lost."

Colby frowned, glanced at the others, then led me over to a rock and sat me down. He rested his hand behind me but didn't touch anything and he kept his gaze on the water so I didn't feel pressured. Though it was his eyes that I wanted to keep me grounded.

"Tell me," he said. "I'll listen."

Sighing, I started explaining what I'd secretly been figuring out all this time; what I should have just come out and realised from the very beginning. Because I wasn't grieving for Mom, I was grieving for myself. I was grieving because Julian had taken someone else from me and I still hadn't taken him from the world—or even anything that he cared about. I was grieving because I didn't see me in me anymore, I was just some girl pining after her dead mother when I knew she wasn't ever going to come back. And it bothered me.

It was clear Colby didn't know what to say about that, nor did he know whether he was supposed to say anything, so he settled for the safe option and said, "You can keep talking if you need to."

"There isn't much more to say. I never had a connection to Mother like Angela did and I never... well, I never identified with her. I don't miss her as a mother, I just miss the idea of having a mother. It's not right for me to pretend it's her I want back because she isn't." I shook my head at myself, meeting Colby's gaze. "I think it's time I come to terms with all this instead of drowning in it."

Colby smiled. "If you're ready, I think so, too."

We stared at each other, realising what that meant. If I was going to come to terms with what'd happened, did that mean I was back? Did that mean the stomping and snapping was back? Did I want all of that to come back?

I was almost so lost in my thoughts that I didn't catch Colby's eyes flicking down to my lips, but I did, and I caught the way he scolded himself for even thinking about it. A wave of feeling came over me as I stared at his face, watching the way he turned his head and barely shook it—so little I shouldn't have been able to see.

Thing was, I wanted him to continue

"Colby," I whispered, "look at me." He turned his head. "Kiss me."

"What?"

"Do it."

"I'm... You're not-"

I moved across the space between us until we were inches apart and leaned my face up to his as I said, "Grow a pair and do it or I'll kiss you first."

"Seems like a win-win," he whispered. This time, his lips brushed mine. I felt electricity in my stomach before he lost his control and leaned down. His lips melded to mine like they always had, like they were meant to be pressed against one another. It felt so good and I just wanted more.

My hand curled around the back of his head to tangle in his hair, keeping him as close to me as I possibly could. If we'd been at home, I could've had him on the bed or the couch or his chair beneath me, where there was nothing separating us but clothes—and sometimes not even that much.

The passion in our kiss was something I'd definitely missed; definitely deprived myself of, which I wasn't going to do anymore. I wanted him so much I was tempted to push him onto his back right there, but our friends had other ideas in mind.

Water—freezing water—was dumped on us and we both made a surprised sound as we pulled back, cringing away from the cold. Of course, I was staring up at a grinning Jake when I looked for the culprit.

For the third time today, "JAKE!"