I think it’ll be fun. Andrew and I spend one hundred percent of our time alone with each other, and I think it’ll be good for both of us to step out for a while and associate with others more. And he didn’t have any objections, so I’m guessing he probably thinks it couldn’t hurt, either.

The drive to this “private” spot feels more like an hour.

Their Jeep turns left onto a partially paved road and the farther we follow, the bumpier the drive. Their headlights bounce through the darkness in front of us until finally the tree-enveloped road opens up into a wide area of rocks and sand. Andrew pulls up beside them and shuts off the engine.

“Well, it’s definitely secluded,” I say as I get out of the car.

Andrew comes up next to me, gazing out at the deserted beach. He takes my hand. “We can turn back now, there’s still time,” he taunts me. “Once they get us away from the car, it might be the last time we ever see each other.” He squeezes my hand and pulls me closer to him playfully.

“I think we’ll manage,” I say just as the last of them pile out of the Jeep and meet us at the back of the vehicles.

Tate opens the back of the Jeep and lifts out a giant ice chest and drops it in the sand. “We’ve got plenty of beer,” he says, lifting the lid and reaching inside.

He tosses a bottle of Corona to Andrew. Not Andrew’s first choice of beer, I know, but he won’t turn one down, either.

Bray and her fiancé, I can’t even remember his name, step up together beside me while Tate pops the cap on another bottle of Corona and hands it out to me.

I take it. “Thanks.”

Andrew pops the cap on his with the bottle opener he keeps on his key ring.

“If you’ve got any blankets to lie on, might want to bring one,” Tate says. His girlfriend joins him, passing me a smile as she walks in between us wearing her skimpy white bikini. “And I’ve got a kickass system in this baby,” he adds, patting the back of the Jeep with his hand, “so I’ve also got the music covered.”

Andrew pops the trunk and grabs the blanket he always keeps back there, the same one we used the night we tried to sleep in that field last July. Only now, thanks to me, it has been washed and doesn’t stink like oil and car funk.

“Where are my shorts?” I ask, rummaging around in the backseat.

“There right here,” Andrew says from the trunk. When I lean out of the car, he throws them toward me, and I catch them in midair.

“I don’t plan on swimming in that abyss at night,” I say, slipping them on over my red bikini bottoms.

Overhearing, Bray says, “I’m glad I’m not the only one!”

I smile over the roof of the Chevelle at her and then shut the door. “Have you been out here before with them?”

Tate and the others are walking toward the beach now carrying the ice chest, beach bags, and other random items. They leave the doors open on the Jeep with the speakers blasting rock music.

“We did last night,” Bray says, “but Elias got drunk way too early and started puking up his insides, so I drove us back to our hotel pretty early.”

Elias, yeah, that’s her fiancé’s name. He shakes his head and gives her the sarcastic yeah-thanks-for-telling-everybody look.

Andrew and I walk alongside Bray and Elias, hand in hand toward everybody else already setting up camp not too far out, closer to the water. As we step up and lay our blanket out on the sand, Tate lights a match and tosses it onto a pile of tree branches. The flame ignites the lighter fluid he had already squirted all over the pile. A tall, searing rod of fire curls up over the top of the pile and illuminates the darkness all around us with a dancing orange glow. Already the heat from the flames are making me hot, so I slide our blanket a few feet farther away from the bonfire before Andrew and I sit down on it. Bray and Elias follow suit with two giant beach towels. Tate, his brother, and the other three girls all share a large quilt. I dig the bottom of my beer bottle into the sand beside me so that it sits upright.

Tate makes me think of those really blond, tanned California surfers. Like every guy here, including Andrew, Tate sits with his knees bent upward and his arms propped on them at the wrists. And as I’m quietly checking everybody else out, I catch something briefly in the corner of my eye that instantly puts me into territorial mode. The blonde sitting next to Tate’s brother, who I doubt is his girlfriend because they don’t act like they’re together, is watching Andrew with hungry eyes. I don’t just mean the innocent look-but-won’t-touch kind. No, this girl would try to sleep with him the second I walked away.

When she notices me watching her, she looks away and starts talking to the other girl beside her.

I don’t have anything to worry about where Andrew is concerned, but if she disrespected me knowing he’s my fiancé, I would not think twice about kicking her ass.

I wonder if Andrew noticed.

24

As the night wears on, things happening in our small group begin to shift. People are talking less and making out more. Bray and Elias are lying down next to each other on one side of the bonfire. Tate and his girlfriend might as well be fucking already; only thing left to do is take off their clothes. Thankfully, the shady blonde chick is over me and is helping her friend feel Caleb up about eight feet away from Camryn and me.

Yeah, I’m pretty sure I have a feeling I know where this is heading. No big deal. It’s not like I’ve never been in a situation like this before, but this time my main focus isn’t trying to please two chicks at once. I just need to keep Camryn away from their shit.

Just as I start to roll over onto my side to talk to Camryn lying next to me, the whole fucking world comes out from under me. I try to lift my head. I think. My eyes feel like fairies are dancing on top of them. With them open.

“Oh shit…,” I say out loud, but then, maybe I didn’t. Maybe it was all in my head.

I raise my hand in front of my face and it looks like the moon is sitting between my thumb and index finger. I try to shake it off, but it’s too damn heavy and it weighs my arm down. I feel my elbow hit the sand like an eighty-pound weight.

My head is spinning. The color of the fire is blue and yellow and dark red. The sound of the ocean is tripled in my ears, blending with the crackling of the wood on the fire and someone moaning.

“Camryn? Where are you?”

“Andrew? I… I’m right here. I think.”

I can’t even tell if that was really her voice.

I squint my eyes tightly and reopen them again, trying to focus, but I realize I don’t want to focus. I’m smiling. My face feels so stretched out that I’m afraid for a second that it’s not gonna stop stretching and it’s going to rip my face in half. But then it’s OK.

Oh my fucking God… I’m trippin’. What. The. Fuck. Did they give to me?

I try to stand up, but when I think I’m standing I look down and see that I haven’t moved at all. I try again with the same result.

Why can I not stand up?!

“Holy fuck, Tate,” I hear a voice say but I can’t even make out if it’s male or female. “This is some good shit. Ho-ly fuck. I’m seeing rainbows and shit. It’s the Reading Fucking Rainbow…”

Then whoever just said that starts singing the Reading Rainbow song.

I feel like I’m in Crazy Town, but I don’t really wanna leave.

Finally, I lay flat on my back and double-check my position by patting the sand on either side of me with the palms of my heavy hands. Then I look up at the star-filled sky and watch the stars move back and forth across the blackness in a poetic pattern.

Camryn’s face appears on my chest like a ghost out of mist.

“Baby?” I ask. “Are you all right?”

I’m worried about her, but I can’t stop smiling.

“Yeah. I’m goooood. I’m good.”

“Lay by me,” I tell her.

I shut my eyes when I feel her head on my chest, and I smell the shampoo she always uses, but it’s so much stronger than before. Everything is stronger. Every sound. The feel of the wind on my face. Dax Riggs singing “Night Is the Notion” in the background somewhere that my mind tells me is far away, but it’s so goddamn loud it’s like the Jeep is right next to my head. I can almost smell the rubber from the tires.

And I can’t help it. I start singing “Night Is the Notion” as loud as I can. I don’t know how I know all the words already, but I know them. I fucking know them. And it feels like the song is going on for hours and I don’t care. Eventually, I stop singing along and just close my eyes and feel the music move through me. And I don’t care about anything right now except the moment. And I’m horny as fuck. It takes me a second—I think—to realize that my dick feels the same breeze that my face feels. And it feels good.

“Camryn? What? Yes.”

I don’t even know what I’m saying, or if I’m really saying anything at all. My mind tells me that I need to make sure she’s not so messed up that she’s giving me a blow job in front of these people, but at the same time I don’t want her to stop.

My breath catches and my head falls over to one side. I see Caleb on top of one of those chicks, her naked thighs crushed around his thrusting body. I look away. I stare back up at the sky. Traces of light move back and forth as the stars move. I shudder when I feel my dick hit the back of her throat.

I look down. I see blonde hair. I reach out to touch it, part of me wanting to pull her away, the other part wanting to force her to take it deeper. I end up doing the latter, but when I throw my head back and see Camryn’s face lying next to mine, I snap upward from the shoulders.

“Get off me, bitch!” I manage to get out.

I kick her off of me and the high does a one eighty. I’m not enjoying it anymore.

I force myself to sit upright. I try smacking myself in the head with both hands hoping to jar myself sober, but it does jack shit. I manage to get my dick back in my shorts, and I look across the sand through the fire to see that slutty bitch already passed out next to Caleb. I don’t know how much time has gone by, but everybody is passed out but me.

I’m panicking. I can’t fucking breathe. What the fuck just happened?

I roll over onto my side and grab Camryn, forcing her next to me, and I don’t let her go.

And that’s the last thing I remember.


Camryn

I feel sick. God, I’ve never, ever, had a hangover like this before. The early morning sun and the breeze coming off the ocean wake me up. At first I just lay here because I’m afraid if I move I’m going to throw up. My head is pounding, the tips of my fingers are numb, the rest of my body a nauseous, trembling mess. I moan and open my eyes the rest of the way, pressing one arm horizontally across my stomach. I know there’s no way I’m getting off this beach without puking for a good five minutes first, but I try to hold it back as long as I can.

My cheek is pressed into the sand beneath me. I feel grains sticking to my skin. Very carefully, I reach up a finger and shuffle it away before it gets inside my eye.

I hear a thwap followed by a cracking noise and shouting.

Against the argument from my stomach, I roll over onto my other side facing the ocean.

“Get off of him!” I hear a girl scream.

That wakes me up even more, and for a split second I realize just how out of it I really was. But I’m wide awake now. I raise my head from the sand to see Andrew pummeling Tate with his fists.

“Andrew!” I try to shout, but my throat is sore and my voice is hoarse, so I only manage to croak out his name instead. “Andrew!” I say again, gaining more control over my voice.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, man?!” Tate yells.

He’s trying to back away from Andrew, but Andrew just keeps coming. He punches him again and again, this time knocking Tate on his ass in the sand.

Then Tate’s brother joins in and spears Andrew from the side. They both fall off of Tate and roll several feet. Andrew grabs Caleb by the throat and lifts him over his body, throwing him hard against the sand, and is on top of him in seconds. He punches Caleb three times before Tate is behind him, pulling him backward and away.

“Chill the fuck out, man!” Tate screams.

But Andrew rounds on him catching his chin with an uppercut, and I hear another stomach-turning crunch. Tate stumbles backward, holding his hand over his jaw.