Tide Changer

Three

I'd been pacing our driveway for at least fifteen minutes, waiting for Brock. Although he insisted on seeing me before I left, he hadn't shown up, and if I waited another five minutes, I'd be stuck in rush hour.

My phone vibrated in the back pocket of my shorts. I pulled it out and read the text.

Brock: I overslept. Sorry. Have a nice drive. x

Anger flared within me. I unlocked my car and dropped the cell into the cup holder, not bothering to reply. Alarms existed for a reason, and he could've set one to wake up on time, but he either forgot or thought making me wait for him like he'd done countless times was okay.

"Leaving already?"

I closed the car door and whirled toward my mom, who approached me, smiling her special smile — the one reserved for situations she didn't like but had to tolerate.

"Yeah. Broke texted that he overslept."

Mom tsked, fluffing her perfect waves. "Men. Always so forgetful."

Easy for her to say when Dad wasn't. He was always home in time for dinner and made sure to be available whenever Mom wanted to do something with him. I couldn't imagine him standing her up. Maybe she'd know how shitty it felt if he ever did.

"Yeah," I said, toying with the car remote. "Okay, I gotta go. I'd rather not sit in traffic."

Mom kissed my cheek. "Drive safe and call me once you're there. And Lyra."

The pause after my name should've been enough to clue me in that it was all going suspiciously well.

I swallowed the frustrated groan threatening to escape and backtracked, pinning my crossed arms over my chest. "What?"

"Men can have their fun, but when women do the same, it's never seen well. Not by men, not by their families. Don't do anything to put your relationship in jeopardy."

"Sure," I mumbled, nausea climbing my throat from what I'd read between the lines — Brock could do whatever he wanted, and I had to be okay with it. "Anything else?"

"Don't forget to check in."

I assented with my chin and rounded my SUV to slide into the driver's seat.

As I drove through the gates, I glimpsed my mother in the rearview mirror, watching me with narrowed eyes as if she didn't believe I'd go through with my plan, but there was no going back. I refused to spend my summer at home, dying of jealousy after seeing my friends' vacation pictures. I didn't need Brock to enjoy my month away and make my own happy memories.

Once I'd left our neighborhood, a semblance of calm settled over me. The feeling lasted until my car joined the long line of vehicles on the highway.

Because of the delay, it took five hours to get to the coast near the resort.

As soon as I spotted the ocean in the distance, I rolled the windows down. Salty air filled the car, messing my locks and reminding me I'd left the chaos of Wickhampton behind.

Except that wasn't entirely true. I'd be stuck at a busy nine-story hotel people used for family vacations and getaways with friends. There would be couples in love who'd rather die than take a break from each other. And even though I chose our newest resort Dad only went to once or twice a year, one call would be enough for Mom to know about my whereabouts.

The longer I thought about voluntarily trapping myself in Seaside Reverie, the more claustrophobic I felt. I wanted freedom, not to be watched over by my parent's staff, but what could I do now?

The GPS said I needed to keep driving straight. On impulse, I changed lanes and exited the highway. A narrow country road fringed by longleaf pines serpentined on my right. A glance at the screen of my navigator confirmed it led to the ocean as well, and a mile later, I passed a wooden town sign with Marfolk written on it.