Chapter Twenty

6/15/15

I SIT ON the beach as the party just up a ways from me hits full swing.

I don't know what it is about tonight, but I'm just not in the mood. But Kylie wanted to come, and I would never let her come to a party by herself. Especially the beach ones. These tended to get more out of control than any other parties Easton's teen population had. Maybe it is the ocean, or maybe the alcohol, but either way these parties are always wild.

I run a finger around my can of beer I am holding. I mess with the tab for a while listening to the swish of the liquid in the can along with the sounds of the waves kissing the beaches shore.

I wish I liked beer. It seems to be the only things these parties supply, but sadly I hate it. The taste is bitter and hard to keep down, but the tingling feeling it causes I can't help but love. I tip the can back to my mouth and take a sip forcing myself to swallow.

"Ugh," I mutter as I make a face of disgust.

"Don't like it?" I hear a boy's voice say in the darkness.

I look up to see a shadow of a person making their way towards me. A wave of nerves flash through me as I realize I'm alone and an easy target for attack. But as he walks further forward the lights on the beach shine against his face, and I realize I recognize him. Kind of.

"It's an acquired taste," he tells me.

I tear my eyes away from the guy, and make sure my phone is on and near me in case he tries anything. I really shouldn't have left Kylie, but she is with Maddy and Ashley and they are way better wing women then I ever will be.

"That's why I'm trying to acquire it," I quip back.

I hear a small chuckle before I see him sit down next to me in the soft sand.

"Why aren't you with everyone else at the party?" He asks as he takes a pull from his can of beer.

"Why aren't you?" I counter instead of answering his question. Because the truth is I'm awkward, and I don't know how to flirt with guys. So Kylie taught me that answering a question with a question is the easiest sure way to flirt, especially for people like me who suck at it. Though I'm not sure why I'm trying to flirt with this guy, I don't even know him.

"Bored," he answers simply.

My eyebrows rise at this mystery guy. "Really?" I ask. "With all those pretty girls over there you're bored?" I say once more not believing his words. I wrap my arms around my knees feeling suddenly feeling insecure about his reasons for sitting next to me.

He lets out a quiet laugh. "What a guy can't get bored at a party?"

I lift a single shoulder. "With pretty girls in skimpy outfits and alcohol in the mix they usually don't," I say truthfully.

"You're not wrong," he concedes. "But tonight I am," he admits.

He shifts and I finally get a good look at this boy in front of me and I realize he isn't a boy. He's definitely older than my sixteen years, but I can't tell by how much. Not too much I realize. His grin is still goofy and young, and he doesn't have any facial hair. Though he could shave. My guess is maybe eighteen years old?

He's really cute. Okay, way more than cute. He's straight up hot, and suddenly I feel flush with him being so close to me. Though he isn't even touching me. My arms tighten even more around my legs as my body fills with anxiety.

His hair is light blonde, and his eyes dark in this light though I can't see exactly what color. The more I look the more he looks familiar. "Do I know you?" I ask with scrunched eyebrows.

The right side of his lips tilts up in a small smirk. My eyes linger for a second on his lips noticing how nice they look before I look away, and my whole body heats with nervousness.

He shakes his head. "I don't think so," he says.

My eyes narrow in on him for a few seconds longer before turning back to the ocean before us. I know I recognize him but I can't place it. But this town is a small place, and everyone knows everyone so I'm sure I've seen him around.

We sit quietly for a while not saying one word as the ocean twinkles in the moonlight cast from above.

I slyly turn my head to see him still sitting next to me. His head is facing the blackened sea and not once glancing at me.

"Did you want something?" I ask awkwardly as my hands fiddle with the small can in my hands. I don't like him just sitting next to me. He makes me nervous for some reason I can't explain.

His head twists to lock his eyes against mine. "Nope," he says quietly as he turns forward once again.

My eyes widen in confusion to this person sitting next to me. Who is this guy?

"Do you have any siblings?" he asks out of nowhere.

I purse my lips in confusion to his sudden question, but answer anyways. "Yeah," I nod. "An older sister. Why?" I ask.

He tilts his head with a small shrug. "Same," he mutters oddly.

"Older, younger, brothers, sisters?" I ask questioning his wording.

He sighs. "Two older brothers and one younger."

My eyebrows lift. "That's a lot of testosterone in the family," I say with a small chuckle.

He smiles. "You're not wrong about that," he admits. He pauses for a few minutes before asking another question. "Do you ever feel like you're living in their shadows?" He asks. His voice is soft almost like he's embarrassed of what he is saying.

I let out a loud breath as I let my body sink into the sand. I let his question roll through my head, and allow myself really think of his question. "Yeah," I mutter. "I do sometimes," I say realizing how true my words are.

Bailey is perfect in every single way to my parents. I know they love me just as much, but it's different with her. She's the oldest, their first born, and it will always be different with them. Just like me being the baby of the family gives me a different position than Bailey.

"I do all the time," he breathes. "I don't ever feel like I'm enough, that my parents are looking for me to be my brothers...but I'm not."

"You're not," I agree with him.

His eyes narrow at my words as if he is shocked. "What?"

I stare straight at him. "You're not your brothers and you never will be," I say. "So stop trying and move on."

"Wow," he says taken back by my words. "I didn't expect those words to come out of your mouth," he comments.

My mouth drops at his words. I'm suddenly aware of how rude that sounded, and this complete stranger probably thinks I'm a bitch now. "Ohmygod, I'm so sorry that sounded awful, but I didn't mean it that way I meant—"

He holds up his hands to stop me. "No, no, no don't worry. I didn't expect that but you're right. I need to get over it."

I shake my head. "I didn't say get over it," I try and correct.

He smiles. "No don't worry about it, I needed a little tough love today."

I place my hands over my face completely embarrassed of my words. "Just go back over to those girls and hit on every single one of them like those dumb Hasting boys do," I mumble to myself more than him. "They seem to love it," I chuckle dryly.

He says nothing. A long silence passes before I finally glance up from my hands. I look up to see the guy grinning from ear to ear at my words. He's still here.

"What?" I ask confused as to his expression.

He laughs as he shakes his head lightly. "Nothing," he says with a smirk. He stands from the ground dusting his pants free of the grainy sand. My body sags slightly in defeat that he's leaving. I don't even know his name but for some reason his presence soothed me. And I liked it. I kind of liked him actually.

"Oh, okay well bye then," I say as I nibble on my bottom lip nervously.

I turn away from him and face the ocean once again assuming he would leave. But he doesn't. He stands next to me for a few lingering seconds before speaking into the quiet night that surrounds us.

"It was really nice to meet you by the way," he says.

I lift a hand in a waving gesture without saying another word knowing I will say something awkward again.

"I'm going to go over and hit on all those girls," he tells me.

I shrug in response without looking at him hating the way his words wash over me.

"Okay," I mutter.

"I'm Cale Hasting by the way." My head whips around to look at the guy who I without knowing just insulted. "See you around." With those last words he leaves me on the beach alone and in shock.

And exactly one week later he asked me out on that very beach. The beach where we first met.

A night I will never forget.

A night I wish I could forget honestly.

I stand in front of Cale's apartment door trying to gather up the courage to knock on his door. The memory of our first meeting wraps around me threatening to strangle me as weak breathes fly from my parted lips. I close my eyes and let the memory hold me hostage for one last second. I let it squeeze my heart and tear my eyes up for one last time before I lock it away. Lock it away for good now.

I can't go back.

I open my eyes, push my shoulders back, and let my knuckles crash against the wooden door before me.

I hear footsteps and as they come closer, and my heart races faster and faster. I've pushed Cale away, I've locked him away, I've told him we're done, but I've never done this. I've never asked him to let me go, to give me up. I've been working on getting away from him all this time, but has he been doing the same? We've been playing this game of push and pull, but neither of us have done anything about our past. So it's time he gives me up, and I do the same. This really needs to end.

The door swings open to reveal a man who isn't Cale, though looks very similar. He has the same dirty blonde hair though his is a little darker and not as short, and hazel eyes, and ridiculously attractive. Must be a Hasting, though the question is which one? I've never met the two eldest Hasting's because they were so much older than me back then. I've seen pictures, but it's been a while. Maybe it's Clayton?

"Hi, I'm sorry is Cale here?" I ask as I shift my weight from foot to foot uneasily.

He lingers for a second watching me as if he's trying to place me. His eyes narrow before twisting his head to shout at who I'm assuming is Cale. "She's here," he says simply.

My eyes widen and my jaw drops in pure shock. "Excuse me..." I trail. "Do I know you?" I ask confused as to why he knows who I am. Surly Cale hasn't been talking about me to his brothers. Or has he?

His eyebrow cocks. "You don't," he states. "But I know you."

Suddenly Cale rushes up to the door behind who I'm still assuming is his brother. "Gray," he breathes with a smile breaking across his perfect face.

My eyes cast down as I force my initial feelings back. I'm on a mission here, and I'm not straying. I know what I need to do. No, what I have to do.

"I'm going to head out," the man says to Cale. His eyes flicker over to me as he leaves the doorframe. "Nice to finally meet you," he sneers before heading down the stairs to the parking lot.

"Same to you," I grumble still confused. "Who was that?" I ask with a harsh edge to my voice as soon as the guy is out of earshot.

"Here come inside and we can talk Gray," he says as he reaches out a hand for me to take. And for a second, no not even a full second less than that, I consider taking it. But I crush that thought immediately and throw it away. Far, far away.

I shake my head. "No, we can talk here and right here only," I say sternly.

Cale's shoulders sag at my words, but he doesn't object. I think he can sense why I'm here, and that I mean business. He tucks his hands into his front pockets. "He's my brother," he says.

"Which one?" I ask.

"Clayton," he breathes.

I nod at his words. "Why does he know who I am?" I question with the tilt of my head.

His eyes flicker away from mine. "Don't worry he won't tell anyone if that's what you're wondering," he says blowing off my question entirely.

I cross my arms. "Of course that's what I'm wondering! You're engaged to my sister Cale!" I whisper yell at him. How can he not understand this?

"Please Gray, just come inside and let's talk some more. I know the other night ended weird but—"

"Let me go," I blurt out cutting him off. The three words so simple yet hold so much power.

His body jerks back at my words as if physically hurt and shocked by them all at the same time. "What?" he breathes.

I take a deep breath, gathering all the courage inside myself to repeat those awful words. "Let me go."

He takes a step towards me, but I step away. And with that single step his face falls and crumbles until I can see the pain clear as day on his face. "I don't understand..." he trails. "What does that mean?" he asks.

"It means let me go," I repeat unable to find the words to elaborate any further. Saying those three words were hard enough, I don't want to say anymore.

"What does that mean Gray?" he shouts at me as his arms fly out in emphasis of his confusion and pain.

Tears wet my eyes and blur my vision. "It means that you ended things with me that summer. You broke me," I say with a cracked voice. "And I worked for years to put myself back together, and I might've not been perfect but I was okay. I was getting on with life because I was moving on from you," I say as tears begin to fall down my cheeks.

"Gray—" Cale starts as he takes another step towards me.

I lift a hand to stop him and his words. "No, I was doing okay with life. But then you got engaged to my sister, and I still thought I would be okay. I thought I could avoid you, but I can't!" I shout. "I can't because you look at me, and you say things to get under my skin like calling me a slut—"

Cale interrupts me. "I did not call you a slut," he specifies.

I shrug and shake my head knowing it doesn't matter, none of his words matter in this moment because I know what I have to do. "You kiss me in kitchens and then say awful things to me..." I say remembering those words he said to me after I yelled at Bailey, and she left us alone in that damn kitchen.

"You said it was over," Cale states.

"I did! And I thought it was because to me it was Cale! I was moving on, I was happy, I was letting you go!" I say at tears continue to fall. "But were you?" I ask.

He opens his mouth as if he doesn't know what to say.

"You aren't," I state. "You ask me about Chase and Max, and get mad when I'm with them, and then you touch me and kiss me and confuse me and say you love me," my voice breaks at the end barely able to say the last three words. I wipe at my face tired of crying, and hating that I'm also crying in front of Cale. I hate showing that side of me, it's weak and he already owns so much of me.

Cale's eyes are wide as he takes in my words. "But I do love—"

"No!" I shout as my heart squeezes. My mind wants so bad to hear those words once more, but my heart can't handle it again. I can't handle finally hearing the words I've dreamed of and him not being mine. He was never mine, not really anyways. Not in a way that truly mattered.

"Gray, listen to me," he starts but I refuse to let him finish.

"Let me go," I cry. "Please," I beg. "I can't do this anymore, I can't live like this, I can't look at my sister every day and remember what we did, how you felt against me, I can't anymore..." I trail. "I fucking can't Cale. Please!"

He walks towards me, and I can't move away because I hit the railing and there's no more space. I'm at his mercy, and he doesn't stop until his body is melded to mine and his hands are holding my face.

"Cale," I cry unable to finish what I was going to say. My whole body physically hurts. He has to let me go, he has to! I can't do this with him anymore. My heart can't be waiting for him for the rest of my life. I can't secretly be hoping he leaves my sister. It's all wrong, and it all needs to end. It has to end. I want to be happy and be able to love someone like Max, but I can't with Cale looming over me and waiting and questioning me. I can't.

"Shh shh shh," he breathes as his fingers wipe at the uncontrollable tears that fall from my eyes. The salty tears wet his hands, but he doesn't stop holding my face and holding me close to him. He dips his face so that he can look at me, and I mean really look at me. His eyes crawl over every inch of my face as if I have the answers to all of life's questions written somewhere on my face. "Let you go," he whispers.

I nod as I choke back another sob. "Let me go," I repeat.

The pad of his thumb caresses my cheekbone tenderly. "I love you Gray—"

I shake my head repeating, "No, no, no," over and over again trying to get him to let go of my face.

Cale won't release my face or my body, and tightens his hold on me refusing to free me of him. "Gray, I love you and that's why I'll let you go," he says finally.

I stop my weak attempts at getting away from him, and still at his words. "What?" I pant.

His bright hazel eyes hold mine, and his lips tremble lightly. "Because you want me to, because I know this can't go on forever, and because I love you so damn much that I just want you to be happy," he pauses as his eyes begin to glisten. "Even if it's not with me." His last words really hit me hard, and more tears begin to fall onto his skin.

"Cale," I breathe his name unable to find any other word for this moment.

He leans forward and places his forehead against mine for a few seconds letting us breathe each other's air one last time before he breaks away, and then he drops his hands from my face.

"I'm letting you go," he says as he squeezes his eyes shut.

"Thank you," I say so quietly I'm unsure if he even heard me.

Cale turns his back on me, and walks back into his apartment. But before he shuts the door behind himself he pauses. "What am I supposed to do now?" He asks unable to look me in the eye. And it hurts, but I accept that this is my life now and that this was what I asked for.

I lift a shoulder. "Go back to before this summer. Before I came and ruined everything," I say trying to come up with some kind of answer for him in this fucked up situation.

"Gray you didn't ruin—"

I cut him off as I head towards the stairs unable to listen to him anymore. "Goodbye Cale," I say.

There's a small pause before he says, "Goodbye Grayson."

And with that tears burst from my eyes because out of everything that just happened that was the worst. Because it made it real.

We are really over. Done. Never again.

He let me go.

So now what do I do?