The Twins & Me: Summer Vacation

Bonfire

Near sunset, we grudgingly pack up our stuff and make the trek back to the house. I don't want to see Bastian, don't want to know what the night will bring.

Ollie catches my hand as we ascend the steps of the deck to the house. Lights from inside illuminate us, and we take our time shaking out the beach towels, emptying the melted water from the cooler, brushing sand off each other. None of us has to say what we're thinking, that we're trying to buy as much time as possible. I feel the boys hands, soft on me, Ollie taking extra care when he slips my dress over my head like he might risk breaking me.

His eyes are set when they find mine, silently telling me that I can call this off if I want. I try to give a reassuring smile, run my fingers along the side of his face.

His eyelids flutter closed for the briefest of moments at my touch.

When I turn, Arlo's leaning against the railing, staring down the beach. I reach out to give his arm a squeeze, and he brings his gaze to me.

"I love you," he whispers, though his words get caught up in the wind. Ease spreads through me.

From behind us, the back sliding door opens.

"Found you," Bastian's voice calls out.

I was afraid his voice would make me shake, scare me, but all I feel is white hot anger. We turn to see him step out, followed by Remi.

"Felix and Cherry are doing dinner at the club," he says, eyes darting between the three of us.

"There's going to be a bonfire down the beach," Remi says brightly. "We thought you'd might want to come."

Arlo and I look to Ollie. He pushes the hair from his forehead, making sure his muscles flex.

"Yeah," he responds, looking directly at Bastian. "Should be fun."

So in a matter of minutes we find ourselves piled into Remi's Land Rover and pulling out of the neighborhood, me sandwiched between the twins in the back seat. I guess anything is better than being stuck in the house with Bastian, especially with his parents out; being alone might give him the idea that he's got free reign over us.

Remi insists on going through a drive-thru to get us food since we haven't eaten, and when Bastian turns to ask me what I want I let Ollie order for me. Even though I'm not hungry, Arlo coaxes me into eating some fries. The way Bastian has his hand on Remi's inner thigh as she drives sets me on edge.

When we get to the public beach spot, I'm able to at least breathe easier. The parking lot is nearly full and several fires are going along the beach. The sun's dipped enough for the stars to come out, and the black waves beckon me once again. After abandoning our shoes at the car we follow Remi down the beach. Ollie takes my hand at once and intertwines my fingers with his. His grip reassures me. Far down, large rocks jut out of the ocean like the spine of an animal and I can just make out people climbing on them. The tallest one has to be at least 50 feet in the air.

Thankfully, she doesn't lead us up them, and instead we come to a fire with a dozen people around it, laughing and drinking. She and Bastian greet these people like old summer friends, and even though Remi points them all out to us by name, I forget who they are immediately. Loud music blares from a speaker set in a little pile of sand next to some Styrofoam coolers. It's an 80s song, something I vaguely recognize from The Breakfast Club or Pretty in Pink.

Beers get pushed into our hands, and I just hold mine because it's something to do; as far as alcohol goes, I still haven't gotten used to the taste of beer.

Ollie downs his in one go. I hand him my bottle without a word, and he drinks that, too. He's been drinking a little deeper than usual since we've come to California, but half of me just thinks that's how everyone is on vacation. I don't let the other half become worried; he knows when to stop.

At least, he has so far.

The three of us hang back a little, just within reach of the fire's warm glow, but enough to stay out of the conversations going on. I know the boys are looking intimidating on either side of me and none of the others seem too keen on coming in for a chat. It gives me the chance to keep my eyes on Bastian. He's gotten to drinking, too, splitting apart from Remi not too long after we arrive.

Ollie gives me a little tug so he can wrap his arm around my waist. "Don't worry, Little Wren," he mumbles in my hair. "Bastian won't be biting you tonight."

A chill runs through me. "Want another?" I ask, stepping away so he can't feel me shaking.

He grunts, arm tightening around me, and pushes me back, towards Arlo. "I'll get it. You stay put."

I stumble a little, but Arlo reaches out to steady me.

Ollie gives me a hard look, a warning, before starting to the other side of the fire towards the coolers.

"What are our odds of sneaking away?" I mumble to Arlo, who grins in response.

As if waiting for his moment, Bastian appears with a girl in tow. I didn't even see him sneak up on us. The girl is taller than me, almost as tall as the twins, with an athletic build, auburn hair, and big eyes. She looks vaguely familiar.

"This is my big brother, Arlo," Bastian says, clapping a hand on Arlo's shoulder, maybe a little too hard. "Arlo, this is—"

"Paxton," Arlo finishes, subtly slipping out of his grasp. "We've met."

And when she smiles, I remember her. She was part of their volleyball team, the girl who attached herself to Ollie after they won. Something hot ignites in my chest, something not good.

"Hey," the girl says, giving a slight, open-mouthed grin. I see a flash of her tongue in her mouth, have seen that move from girls at my old high school, girls who would've given anything to snag a football or lacrosse player.

"And this is Wren," Bastian says sweetly. His grin is sickening. "My other brother's girlfriend, Ollie. You remember him?"

She barely glances at me, which is good because I can't even bring myself to fake a smile.

Bastian takes note of my response. "I was telling Paxton about how shitty it must be for Ollie to bring a girl on vacation. Where's your girlfriend, Arlo?"

Arlo's jaw clenches. His fingers tighten around the bottle. "I don't have one," he says steadily.

His voice cracks my heart.

Paxton fake-pouts, nods in sympathy. "I always make a point to summer single," she says.

"Is that so?" Bastian questions, looking to me. "Why's that?"

"Oh," she shrugs, flicks that long hair behind her shoulder. "Gives you the freedom to meet new people, try new things."

Bastian laughs conspiratorially. "I bet Arlo wants to know what kinds of things, right Arlo?"

Smack!

My hand in the air, stinging from the contact with Bastian's cheek, the cheek I know Ollie punched last night, the one that's already got to be hurting. Rage consumes me, makes the move for me.

The world stops for one second, two. Everyone drops away and I relish in the silence I cause.

Then it all comes back to the surface and several things happen at once; Bastian eats my slap, swings his head back grinning; Ollie's suddenly there, in front of me, pushing me away from him; Paxton makes a move in my direction but she's got to go through Arlo, who's got Ollie's back.

I yell through the twins blocking me, "Don't you ever talk to him like that—" But Ollie throws me over his shoulder and the wind gets knocked out of me. One hand on my upper thigh, the other gripping my ass.

"Fuck you," Paxton cries, as if I'm talking to her.

"Someone's had too much to drink," Bastian laughs, but I catch a glimpse of his eyes past Arlo. From my vantage point on Ollie's shoulder I can see they're dark and wet and stung.

Paxton tries to grab onto Arlo. "Stay," she says quickly. "Let your brother deal with his crazy bitch."

Arlo jerks away from her. "At least she can tell the two of us apart and doesn't go after one when the other's taken," he spits. And before turning to follow us he throws his bottle at Bastian's feet.