The minute things happened with Brax—she started copying everything I did, almost like she lost her own personality or individuality but I know the truth, she did it to hurt me and then told my parents that it was because she felt bad for me when I was diagnosed.

  She walks away and skips into Quinn’s arms, and he spins her around.

  He spins who he thinks is me.

  I take a step toward them and then feel dumb about how split I am about telling him because he’s the only happiness I’ve had for the last year. What if he runs away because of my illness? It wouldn’t be the first time.

  I stare down at my clothes.

  He’ll notice immediately that it’s not me or that I’m not her.

  I should just march right up to him and give up.

  Maybe I’ll go jump in the ocean and take a deep breath.

  How did the last twenty-four hours turn out this way?

  I watch as Sophie grabs his hand, smiles, and walks off with them.

  To go get ice cream.

  Chapter Nine

  Quinn

  I didn’t expect her to be downtown or chase after me, but she did, which on one hand is kind of cool, on the other, totally unexpected, it seems completely against her character, but I’m not mad about it.

  Again, gap year, taking in the sights, not worrying about everything and staying with my rich best friend despite the fact I have the money, just not the townhouse or the will to suddenly purchase one. What could really go wrong in this entire scenario?

  Find a hot girl? Check.

  Have a one-night stand? Check.

  Get the best ice cream in the world? Um, double check.

  Apparently near-death experiences make me super lucky, I turn and look at Chloe. “I’m really glad I met you. Plus, now I finally get the ice cream I promised last night but never delivered on.”

  Her grin doesn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, you delivered on a lot of things.”

  “Damn right I did.” I lick the cone and wink while she grabs her own cone and laughs, again I don’t know what it is, but I’m a laugh guy and her laugh sounds just mildly off, maybe she’s not as happy to be hanging out with me as I am her. Ambrose would say I’m bad at sex, and while I’m fully ready to admit when I’m bad at things, sex is not one of those things that I struggle with—kissing, foreplay, A+, now ask me to become an engineer and do calculus for four straight years and I might just flunk out of school, I may be smart but math is where I refuse to even embark on the struggle.

  I took stats one year just because they offered it up as part of your math credit and all I remember was the absolute sadness when I messed up one tiny part of my project and after two hours had to go back and find out where I went wrong.

  Chloe checks her phone and frowns down at it. “Yeah, um, I’m so sorry to cut you short, but I have to get running.” She stands up on her tiptoes and presses a vanilla ice cream fueled kiss to my mouth.

  I start to respond to her cold lips when she bounces back, waves, and skips out of the ice cream store.

  Frowning, I finish my ice cream then start the trek back to my waiting black Benz AMG Sedan, I’d parked it there in order to eventually get in the car with Chloe and impress her but yeah, nah. Now I’m kind of leaning toward the direction of her, just believing I’m a freeloader at my friend’s ginormous beach house.

  People tend to freak out when you have money, and it’s like I did anything to deserve it. I just inherited it.

  All of it.

  All of my parents’ money.

  And a huge, almost always empty house since they’re constantly gone and ever since my whole high school scandal with a teacher who’s now in prison—one my dad paid off—they’ve become even more distant.

  Thus, why I jumped at the chance to be the third wheel on this little vacation. I know Ambrose and Mary-Belle are leaving at the end of the week anyway. And it would be a waste of my money to buy my own house or VRBO when I could just crash at his place.

  I hop into my car and start driving toward the beach house, fully intending on not getting distracted by thoughts of Chloe and the even more complicated thoughts about my best friend and his girlfriend.

  Damn, my life is messed up, isn’t it?

  I round the corner and go down A street, then make my way up the hill toward the cliff where Ambrose’s beach house is.

  It’s stupid massive, six bedrooms with a smart TV in each one, snacks, wine, fluffy beds that you’re afraid to actually sleep in because they’re so white and what if you have a piece of sand between your middle toe, and five bathrooms that all seem to look like they came out of the Archeologists Digest.

  Honestly, the rooms are untouched and unloved and now that Ambrose is completely on his own, all he has are empty houses.

  His mom gave him her kidney and basically died a room over from him last year in the hospital after saving his life and his dad committed suicide after our high school mess up where he, the DA was caught for embezzlement and bribery charges.

  Sometimes the parents are worse than the kids, just look at my dad and you’ll see all the red flags, not that I’ve seen him in the last six months. The divorce was finalized and then the house just emptied, ever since then I’ve been with them but why does it always feel like I’m intruding?

  It’s not like they’re getting married soon. They’re going to travel the world and do all that shit.

  I pull up to the three-story beach house with its white paint and large black door and get out, grabbing my keys and killing the engine.

  Ambrose is there since his black Jeep is parked out front which means I really am intruding on their time because immediately I know MB is gonna feel sorry for me like she always does, offer to watch a movie or do something together making Ambrose give me the narrowed eyes as if to say, bro I was just going to get laid and now she wants to watch The Great British Bake Off!

  I feel that though, I’d be pissed too.

  I open the door, shut it quietly, and walk into the open kitchen. It’s all just… too white, no decorations, no rugs, it’s beautiful and modern but nothing about it screams family or beach day.

  I feel like I just walked into LA.

  I set my keys and sunglasses on the counter, go over to the fridge, grab a water and then start walking toward my room.

  I don’t even remember falling asleep, I was so exhausted, when I woke up it was like this weird fever dream of Chloe and all the things I wanted to do to her, and then my mouth was so dry I stumbled half naked into the kitchen to grab water. It was peaceful for a few seconds.

  But when I round the corner to go to my room, I spit out my water all over the floor. “WHY!”

  Ambrose does a little half shrug. “Because I was getting laid in the shower?”

  “Bro.” I shake my head. “It’s almost noon!”

  Ambrose grins. “Right, but I was really dirty.”

  “And now my ears.” I grumble, putting the lid back on my bottled water. “Mary-Belle, I’m home, put on clothes!”

  “You didn’t have to yell,” Ambrose grumbles.

  “And you don’t have to just stand in the hallway naked like it’s your birthday and you get a prize for having a dick.”

  “It’s a nice dick.”

  I shake my head. “Mines bigger.”

  “Are we really doing this right now?” He crosses his arms.

  With a sigh, I cross mine, crinkling my water bottle. “Do we need to go over this again? Bring out some measuring tape?”

  Mary-Belle, aka MB for short, comes out of the bathroom with wet pieces of her blonde hair sticking to her shoulders, wrapped in a towel. “You guys are both pretty happy now? And no, you’re not going to be the weirdos who actually have a dick measuring contest, has anyone ever complained?”

  We’re both silent.

  He makes a face at me.

  I flip him off.

  “All right, see contest over.” She stands up on tiptoes and kisses Ambrose’s cheek, “Now I’m going to get dressed and since Quinn is here, we can all totally hang out and watch a movie!” She does a little dance and bolts into their shared room.

  Slowly, Ambrose shakes his head at me. “Biggest cockblock ever.”

  “See? You said it yourself first, biggest cock.” I walk past him.

  “I said biggest cockblock!”

  “Same thing.” I turn and nearly run into my own doorway.

  “Saw that.”

  “Hate you.”

  “Yeah, okay best friend who cried watching Brother Bear,” he whispers it under his breath like he thinks I can’t hear.

  “Do we need to re-address The Notebook?” I counter. “Because I’ll go there, I’ll go straight there right now and pull the last thirty minutes rule!”

  He gasped. “You wouldn’t!”

  “Only the last, most torturous thirty minutes.” I do a little dance in the doorway and earn a pillow to the face, nearly sailing backward on my ass.

  “NO!” MB yells, then pokes her head from the bedroom. “No last thirty minutes of sad movies, now go shower so you can come join us.” Her eyes narrow. “Actually, you look like you“—they go from narrow to wide—“did you sleep with her?”

  I wince. “Define sleep?”

  Ambrose, still naked, nods his head like he’s saying respect over and over again on the inside but doesn’t want to get hit on the outside. Smart move.

  MB is still in her towel and walks up to me, oh great, now I’m going to get the pillow again. She glares up at me, her brown eyes searching mine. “What I want to know is how you even got that close while you looked ready to shit you pants at the movie theater, you had zero game.”

  I lift a shoulder. “I have my ways.”

  She pokes me in the chest hard with her finger. “Don’t hurt her.”

  “What about me?” I question. “What if she hurts me?”

  “Okay, big dick energy.” MB pats me on the stomach. “Your last four relationships ended up with our house getting egged—twice—and you having to buy a new car because the waitress you hooked up with wrote whore across the hood, and don’t even get me started on the others. Girls fall hard and fast, they get obsessed, and then the damage is insane, we almost had to move!”

  “Exaggerate much?” I tease, but really I’m not, because every single one of those girls was a way for me to get over the one standing in front of me, ready to strangle me to death.

  Life isn’t fair.

  I’m over her, I really am. And I’m happy for them, I just don’t know how to find what I had with her, a friend but someone who’s more than that as well, who I can tell my secrets to, my dreams.

  And now I sound weak.

  “Just…” She does a little turn and walks back to the room, calling out, “Don’t hurt her!”

  How does a person hurt someone they barely know? And how do I hurt her when I’m still hurting and bleeding? The other girls made it known to me right away they didn’t want a relationship. Was I so horrible in saying yes to that? Or maybe they just thought it was a cover-up or something?

  Ambrose snickers and follows her into the room while I go to my bedroom, grab some fresh clothes and step into my bathroom.

  I have three missed texts.

  Chloe

  You around?

  Oh no, is the obsession starting? I almost want to send a screen shot to MB but barely hold myself back.

  Chloe

  Ignore me. This is a horrible idea.

  Me

  I’m just getting into the shower and changing my clothes. Then most likely will scarf an insane amount of food. Why what’s up?

  Chloe

  This is going to sound weird.

  Me

  Try me.

  Chloe

  Um, can we have a picnic? I’ll bring the food, I just always wanted to have one on the beach, my parents got stuck on a work trip and Sophie disappeared again and I just really don’t want to be alone… on my birthday. Sophie’s with her friends getting wasted.

  Did that mean she didn’t have any friends, or did that mean she just wanted to hang out with me? I had no idea, no clue, but I was intrigued.

  Me

  Why don’t you just come over?

  I see nothing, but dots pop up only to go away. Waiting is torture.

  Finally.

  Chloe

  Give me your address?

  Well, now she’d know, actually, no, Ambrose owed me. I went back to my phone and shot him a text.

  Me

  Dickface, you owe me, I’m telling her I’m poor, okay byeeee.

  Ambrose

  Who, who are you telling? What am I missing? Is this because I was naked and you got embarrassed? What the Hell is going on?

  Me

  She’s coming over, the girl, the one-night stand, the one I really like, don’t mess this up for me. You know people freak out over money.

  Ambrose

  So basically you’re my bitch. Yeah, sure, I like it, checks out.

  Well, when he puts it that way.

  I groan and then text him.

  Me

  Just don’t be a dick.

  Ambrose

  No promises, this should be fun.

  Maybe this was a horrible idea, maybe the best idea I’ve ever had.

  Chapter Ten

  Chloe

  I’m nervous as hell, like literally ready to vomit, why did I even invite myself over? He’s going to think I’m crazy, but after this morning, after seeing them together, I can’t do it, I really can’t.

  Sophie and I got into another huge fight when she came home with her ice cream cone, she said he kissed her. I have no clue if she’s being serious, but Quinn, from what I know, has always been super handsy, at least after that first date we had at the movies.

  I decide to wear something comfortable and go for sweats my sister would normally wear, in fact I stole them from her months ago when she thought they went missing I just never said anything because she’d ruined one of my favorite dresses that mom had gotten me and told me to deal with it.

  So I don’t exactly feel that guilty.

  When she got back and we stopped fighting, I told her happy birthday and she said not to wait up.

  Never said it back.

  Never even smiled at me.

  And this is after she literally stole a guy right from underneath me by impersonating me.

  I grab my purse, the keys to the Jeep and the rest of the food that I’d prepared along with the birthday cake I’d made myself. It was plain chocolate, and I had plans to just blow out my own candles and sit there on the couch miserable for hours on end until I buried my face in every last Suits episode I could find.

  Once I set everything in the Jeep, I looked down at my screen, he’d texted me the directions to the Beach House, it wasn’t that far away but totally on the richer side of Seaside, right above the bluffs.

  They had the best views on the coast and since he lived next to celebrities, I was assuming that his best friend was stupid rich, houses up there cost anywhere from five million to fifty.

  After starting the Jeep, I made sure to set my phone down with the directions and followed the boardwalk all the way up the hill.

  Turn left.

  Right.

  Straight.

  As I kept driving, the houses kept getting bigger until they matched my eyes, just how much money did this guy have?

  I pulled up to a three-story beach house with a car that probably cost more than a college education parked in front of it and internally hoped the friend wouldn’t be there so I wouldn’t have to be nervous in front of him.

  Money made me nervous, and I was already having a shit day, I just wanted to see Quinn, wanted to make sure he wasn’t suspicious of anything, and wanted to blow out my candles with people around me.

  I hadn’t seen Quinn in a day and already I was sad, and on top of that Sophie was being horrible on our birthday.

  Mom hadn’t even called yet.

  Dad sent a text of a candle.

  Yeah, overjoyed.

  I killed the engine, hopped out, grabbed my things, tried not to hyperventilate as I walked up the steps to the huge white house.

  I didn’t even have to ring the doorbell though.

  The door swung open and a girl with dirty blonde hair and brown eyes answered. “You must be Chloe?”

  Why did she look so happy to see me, and why was she so pretty? She looked older than me and yet at the same time not, maybe there was just more wisdom there, but she seemed nice, even though I was always super wary of girls, probably why I didn’t have a ton of friends or maybe it’s just because my twin liked to spread a shit ton of lies to all my old friends making me isolated and untrusting of anyone and everyone.

  “Yeah.” I didn’t have a hand to hold out to shake hers, but she didn’t seem to mind.

  She quickly grabbed the cake from my right hand and jerked her head toward the open concept kitchen and living room. Everything was so white and new, it didn’t look lived in at all. She almost skipped into the main kitchen area and set down the cake, then turned around. I was suddenly thankful I wore sweats since she was in a pair of black joggers and white Converse. Even her tank top just looked normal, matching her joggers. She had zero to no makeup on and her hair loosely pulled back into a braid.

  “So…” I could not sound louder in that empty kitchen or more awkward, or maybe I just looked it. “Is Quinn here or—“

  “—Just put the rest of the groceries on the counter.” She winks. “And I’ll take you out back, the boys had some drama earlier, so I made them go play corn hole.”

  “You made them?” I almost laugh. I can’t see anyone making Quinn do anything.

  “Well…” She shrugs. “They weren’t on their best behavior, I may have tried to strangle Quinn after shoving a pillow or I guess he claims I threw it but it barely hurt him!”

  I smirk. “What a child.”

  “Thank you!” She laughs. “Finally, some good female energy up in here, oh and by the way, I put the fear of God into him that if he breaks your heart, I’ll break his face. I think there were other details in there about dismemberment, but meh, he’ll survive.”

  “You are extremely violent.” I nodded. “But I can’t seem to be upset about it, plus if he does break my heart, I’ll probably throw more than a pillow.”