Revealing A Different Side

My brother's a goof.

I love him anyway.

Anyways... Could you guys check out this book Sinking Hearts by wowlife. Just give your support, no bashing. I haven't had time to check it out but I will and I just wanted to give my support.

Please give your support. Please. Thank you. 😘😘 And I love you guys...

**~**

"Oh look, Grace is here," is the first thing Jasmine says when she sees me approaching.

A good number of our peers have migrated to our secluded spot on the sand and she happens to be one of them, unfortunately. A large spread blanket is set out next to ours with too many people on it, but others spread out on smaller blankets in couples and singles.

The addition of people to our group consists of Khalil and a bunch of other familiar faces; mostly his friends, a few people who John knows, and even a couple of guys I've seen Arthur talking to on occasion. Why do we all know so many people?

The second thing I notice is the death stare Kim is boring into the girl, strong enough to summon a tsunami on this beach. Kim's sitting on her boyfriend's lap and it seems more like he's holding her back from pouncing on Jasmine. The latter looks calm and collected, smug almost, and I have no clue why.

I'm hesitant to get too close. Maybe because I have no intention of breaking up a fight if it was to come down to it. However, I still plan on being decent, so I lower myself onto the blanket with the duffle bag still on, taking it off and sitting it next to me on the sand as I settle.

"What's wrong?" I ask, ignoring Jasmine while making my way back to my spot on the blanket. I frown, not liking the state she's in. Angry people aren't very appealing to me and I don't like when my friends are anything but happy. Sure, anger is something we all have to endure at times when it calls for it, but that doesn't change the fact that it makes me uncomfortable.

"She's breathing," Kimberly says through her teeth, breathing too slowly to be normal.

I glance away before looking back at her. "She'd have to die to stop," I say softly. I press my lips together when she turns her glare on me. "Not helping." I nod to myself. "Gotcha." She still hasn't answered my initial question, and I'm about to ask for a better explanation, but I don't even get the first word out.

"So, Grace!" My attention snaps to my left, my eyes settling on the troublemaker. She's not even three feet away and smiling almost shark-like. "You've gained quite the reputation in such a short amount of time, haven't you?" Anyone can see she's straining to keep the fake smile intact.

Well, it's been a year, but I mean okay...

I haven't spoken to Jasmine much. I try not to at all, because she's... a lot to deal with. The girl has a very spiteful, unsettling spirit. So whenever I found myself in her presence (or she in mine, which is usually the case) I extracted myself from that environment. I don't like her energy much. She's not fun to be around.

Not really up for small talk, and seeing as she's only here to create mischief, I respond, "Do you make it a hobby to provoke people or..."

Whatever that was happening before had already caught almost everyone's attention before I arrived, so there are still a good number of people staring between her and Kim. I'm between her and Kim so that's great.

Her smile falls. The change is slow and transforms her face into something out of a nightmare. "You don't own the fucking beach, you're not at school where everyone gives you everything you want." Her words end on a growl that has me leaning back, hand on my chest.

"All right," I drawl. "That one's been sitting on your chest for a while, hasn't it." I hear a few muffled snickers and I'm grateful for the ease of tension. I have no clue what she's even talking about. Whatever animosity she has for me, she should take it up with a therapist.

I don't give her the opportunity to dive into another spiel because I honestly don't care. The more time I give her, the worse mood I'll be in. So I turn away from her and immediately start talking to my friends. After talking to Kimberly for a few minutes, she calms down and slips back into the spot next to her boyfriend again, who confirms that she's okay but leaves an arm around her shoulders anyway. I engage the rest of them in a rundown of what almost happened on my way back from the showers and changing room and go on to explain why it took me this long to get back here.

It's enough for everyone to return to their respective conversations and bring life back to the party.

Sighing, I lay back on the blanket before turning over on my stomach and reaching for my book again. I love talking to my friends, but the entire time I'd been side-eyeing this thing. A good book can really drive me nuts sometimes.

I pick up reading where I left off. But it's when I open the book that I notice the large rip that starts from the top of a page to almost all the way down to the bottom. I didn't leave this here. I have a habit of leafing through the pages every time I start a new book, for this exact reason, so I'm a hundred percent sure this happened minutes ago. It isn't even just a rip. A few other pages are crumpled and torn. There's no getting them back to their straight, perfect, put-togetherness.

My breath hitches and my chest tightens as I hold the paper between my fingertips. I sit up so I can breathe easier. Who would do such... blasphemy. I swallow the lump in my throat that prevents me from talking, but I don't know what else to do.

"She ripped it," Kim says, the bite back in her voice. She glares at Jasmine as she adds, "On purpose."

Jasmine has the decency to explain herself. "I was helping with the blanket. I didn't even see it." She doesn't sound sorry about it though.

Slowly, very slowly, I turn in her direction. I try to keep my expression neutral as I stare at her. I go through all the motions on the inside. I'm not a violent person. I can be reasonable. It was an accident. She-

Through my deadly haze, I faintly hear John murmur, "Oh you're gonna get it now."

When I speak, my voice is lower than it usually is but it's loud enough to catch some attention. "Are you... mad." I didn't plan on saying that. Hadn't planned on saying anything actually, but my brain, mouth, and body want three different things at the moment.

"So what if I am?" She shrugs unapologetically, her eyes fierce and challenging. Eventually, her lips pull up at the sides. She's smirking. Smirking.

I close my eyes, taking deep breaths.

Jesus, I start my prayer, as my savior I beg you, beg you, to hold me. Hold my hand, please. Lead me away from temptation. Out of the devil's path-

I'm sorry, I can't do this.

My eyes snap open and I glare with all my dislike of her on display. "What's your problem?" I snap, tossing the book down next to me and turning on her fully. "You don't have to like me-"

"And don't."

"And I don't care," I said hardly, pinning her with a solid stare. "You don't have to like me and I don't care, because I don't care much about you to begin with. But you forcing yourself into my circle to do-" I eyed her, feeling the grimace on my face as I gestured to her, "this! What's this about?"

One particular face substitutes the lightbulb in my head. I watch her jaw clench as she sees me get it.

"This is about Arthur?" I ask incredulously but I know it is.

She's already red in the face in anger and embarrassment. Because of a boy? She's like this over a boy? Even though said boy and I hadn't spoken to each other for months and she had her chance? She's still taking it out on me?

"Shut up," she hisses, even more hideous than before, believe it or not.

My mouth is hanging on the sand right now. "You're actually pathetic," comes out of my mouth. I don't mean to say it and it's a shock to us all if the echo of disbelieving laughter around me is anything to go by.

Jasmine lunges at me.

"OH SHIT!"

It's like watching her move in slow motion because along with working out, my dad has been teaching me kickboxing and he's faster than a snake. My anger flares again at the audacity of her. She has the nerve to attack me after all the things she's done and said to me, over a boy?

I hold her back by her neck, leaning away at her stray, sloppy punches. She gets a few weak hits in before I decide enough is enough and give her a hard smack across her cheek that sends her sprawling across the blanket and sand.

"What's wrong with you?" I shout. I can feel my skin flushing with anger and my adrenaline raging in my veins. I can really lay her out but I'll be-

She's up and coming at me again, trying to tackle me but I grab her arm and twist it behind her back, shoving her down against the sand and pinning her there.

Over the rowdiness of the people around us and her kicking and screaming, I lean down to her ear to hiss, "If you think I'm fighting you over some boy and embarrassing myself, you need to be in a padded room." That first slap was for my book and if I need to make it clear to anyone I'll do that.

"Get off me, bitch!" she screeches.

I do. Standing up this time because if she comes at me again, I'm knocking her out. I make sure to put some space between us just in case she wants to reevaluate things. Me sitting down must have given her the wrong impression of who I am.

Jasmine stumbles to her feet, her hair a mess and eyes wild. But she doesn't get to do anything because arms are circling her middle. I don't know the guy but I've seen him before. He must be convincing her because seconds later he's walking backward, pulling her along and through the crowd of kids and cell phones.

The only thing I see before covering my eyes is Kim jumping up and down in excitement. I guess if she didn't get to fight the girl anyone would do. But it's all so... humiliating. No one's ever seen me like that and I pride myself on keeping my cool. I would have too if Jasmine hadn't turned into a demon.

I turn away from the crowd and hype, fully intending the leave, only to bump into someone. Into him.

"As much as I want to say that was hot. I'll start by asking if you're ok. So are you okay?"

Sighing, I drop my hands and look up at Arthur. I try not to smile at his pleased expression.

"None of that was because of you," I tell him, shaking my head. "Not on my part anyway."

He nods, smile stretching. "Oh, I know." He sobers up a little to add, "But I can always dream."

"Yeah, you do that." I nod, looking away from him.

"Seriously though, are you okay?"

I shook my head. "No," I say lowly. "That was embarrassing. I think I'm gonna go for a walk."

"Do you want-"

I cut him off before he can offer to come with me. "I think I'll be fine. Thanks though." I don't look up as I step around him and disappear between the cluster of bodies dancing the night away too much to notice anything else.

**~**

As much as I wanted to leave the party, I didn't. I did go for that walk though and ended up spending a few moments by myself. I'd sat on the sand, a good distance away from the still-raging party so I could listen to the waves crashing against the shore and clear my mind before going back.

I'd immediately let my friends know I didn't want to talk about it and they respected that. And while it was a bit uncomfortable (probably just for me) for the first few minutes of normalcy, it all went back to normal not long after. We didn't leave the beach until a little past ten and that was really pushing it for some, knowing how parents are.

"Mom! Dad!" I shout into the open house as soon as I step through the threshold. I made sure to start doing that after I came home a few months ago to them making out like teenagers in the living room.

I put my car and house keys on the rack by the door as I kick it shut.

My mother exits the kitchen to my right. "How was the beach?" she says while readjusting her shirt on her very round and huge belly, then patting down her hair.

She's six and a half months pregnant and just as excited for the baby to be here as I am. Only I can't wait for my little sister to be out of her prison and in my arms, while she mostly just wants the baby out of her in general. Of course, she loves her too...

"Yeah, tell us about the beach." My dad walks out and leans against the wall, crossing his arms over his broad chest with a smirk.

I pretend not to know what they were probably up to in there. It's easy to shun the thought.

"So..." she drags out, bouncing giddily on her swollen ankles, "how was the first day? Tell us something!"

Biting the inside of my cheek, my eyes go to the ceiling. Yes, I'll tell her what happened. I promised myself I wouldn't keep certain things from my parents. So here goes nothing. "I did something bad."

She tilts her head, eyeing me. It's not every day they hear those words from me. Let alone on the first day. I can see her brain running a mile with the worst but not wanting to believe it. Detention, suspension, maybe expulsion.

"Like what?" she asks hesitantly.

"I got into a fight." I look down shamefully, fiddling with my fingers.

It's quiet for a moment. I can see them looking at each other without me having to glance up.

"Why?" dad asks.

Still not looking up, I reply, "This girl kept provoking me and ripped my book." My face heats up at the second reason. Something about it sounds so childish but I won't apologize.

"Who was it?" That's my mom.

"Jasmine." They know who she is--or they've heard her name before. I've told them about her one or two times because when I say Jasmine has been a thorn in my side, I'm not exaggerating.

"Really?" There's a chipper tone to her words that make me finally look at them. And she looks far from angry. "Did you win?" There's excitement layered under the question. I raise my eyebrows at her.

"Of course, she won. She's our daughter," dad said under his breath.

She ignores him, clearing her throat and wiping any trace of amusement off her face. "Your first day as a senior and you're getting into fights? I hope you don't make this a habit." It's so obvious she's forcing it because as a mother, she can't condone me fighting. Even if it's the person who's been getting on my nerves for months.

Holding back my own amusement, I decide to go along with it. "Do you think I should apologize?" I nibble on the side of my finger, feigning deep thought as I stare at the floor.

When I glance up at them from under my lashes, they're staring at me blankly. It's my mom who answers.

"I said don't make it a habit and I trust you to take that as your first warning." She gives me a stern look that says, 'Nobody's telling you to do that. This is punishment enough.'

My dad walks up behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Listen to your mother, Grace," he backs her up sternly. "I for one think fighting is a good thing. An effective way to get your frustrations out."

I nod slowly while holding back a laugh. I grab the duffel from the floor and start toward the stairs. "It won't happen again." My smile breaks when I know that can't see my face. They're such goofs. "I'll be back down in a little bit to tell you about my day!" I call over my shoulder.

As soon as I'm in my room, I drop my bag to the floor and rush over to my bed, tossing myself on it. I give myself a minute of relaxation and a few deep breaths before I turn onto my back to switch on my bedside lamp.

I don't stop my eyes from straying past my cracked balcony door to his closed one, to the dim light glowing through his drawn curtains. It's been a long time since I even went out there, but seeing his lights on through the thin drapes and the silhouettes of his furniture has my mind going back to the past. That one night.

My stomach flips when I realize something. He's home. He'd disappeared not long after our short conversation after the... disagreement I had with his admirer. I guess, he came home. I don't know why that makes me feel warm inside but also a tad guilty. I was a bit short with him back at the beach but I'd been frustrated. I'd never blame him for Jasmine's actions and I hope he doesn't think I am.

Before I even know what I'm doing, I'm crossing the room to slide the door shut, but as I'm about to pull my dark curtains close Arthur comes into view.

It looks like he just got up out of bed. He's in basketball shorts and a tank top with his hair a tousled mess. Even through the blur of fabric, he's so gorgeous as he walks across his room that I stop breathing for a second. Wow.

Jesus, look at those arms. My eyes trailed over the tattoos running along his left arm and the visible ink peeking out of the top of his tee on his chest. It's honestly the sexiest thing I've ever seen. I mean, after me of course.

As he's making his way to the door, I'm guessing he catches a glimpse of me out of the corner of his eye. His gaze meets mine and he doesn't hesitate to backtrack until he's standing across from me. His smile is knee-weakening and bone-melting, with teeth and all. It's the kind of smile that's haunted me hours after waking up from his whispers and kisses in my dreams. God, I despise him. But at least now I know there are no hard feelings.

Arthur waves at me. How can a wave be attractive? I can't help my smile and I'm about to reciprocate it when I hear shuffling behind me. I yank the curtain close, my heart hammering.

"Mom!" I'm not sure why I'm acting like we've been doing anything that warrants me feeling guilty or embarrassed but I am. From what my parents know, Arthur and I don't talk to each other and whatever's happening between us right now, I'm not ready for them to be in the middle of it. It could be nothing in the end.

"Hey." My mom walks into my room, wobbling like a penguin. Seriously, she's wobbling like a penguin. She finds it funny.

I make my way over to my bed, landing on it face-first.

"So..." she starts, dragging out the word.

I peek up at her through my left eye. "Hmm?" I ask, muffled by the pillows.

She's sitting next to me, hands circling her belly. "Did you see Arthur?" She whispers as if she was revealing the biggest secret ever.

"Mom." I groan into my pillow.

"What?" She shrugs and then leans in closer. "I saw him come home about an hour ago. Your dad and I went to take the garbage out-"

"What?" I hold my head up with my fist, giving her a look.

She pauses to stare at me innocently. "So? We don't get to do stuff like that anymore." I have so many questions, but she raises her voice over mine. "I haven't seen him for so long, I almost thought they moved. He's gotten so handsome and he said good evening. Isn't he respectful?" She sighs wistfully.

Again, I raise my eyebrows. "I did see him." Multiple times and seconds before you came in.

"Did you talk?"

I narrow my eyes at her. "Why are you whispering?"

She realizes this and sits straighter. While she does talk normally, I can tell that she's being cautious. "Because your dad doesn't seem too fond of him for some reason. But that's just him being a dad. I like him, I think he's a good boy."

I smile because I can tell she's being genuine and it also sounds like she's talking about a dog. "Because he said hi to you?"

She drums her fingers against her tummy absentmindedly. "No, we had a conversation while your dad walked away all grumpy.  He's such a sweet boy, I remember last year how close you two were. Just letting you know that if you decide you want to talk to him again, I'm okay with it." Her voice went back down to the whisper at that last part.

What happened between me and Arthur was something my parents will never know. Their not knowing is the only reason why she's saying those things. And while she's being all whistful and romantic, she's thinking of the birthday present he'd sent over for me and how we were with each other a year ago. I think I want to keep it that way.

Tilting my head, I give her a look that's half confusion and amusement. But before I can dig deeper into this mystery conversation that has her giving me away, she gasps. I sit up, eyeing her. I'm half a second away from calling dad when she takes my hand and places it on the side of her stomach.

This isn't the first time I'm feeling the baby move but it shocks me all the same. I giggle at the feeling even though it's still so weird and alien.

"Now why are we having a party without me?" my dad's voice comes from the doorway. None of us can stop him from joining in after he learns that the baby's awake.