Tegan, July

The Pacific Ocean wrapped around my body like fluid ice. “Lord, it’s cold,” I cried. But the chill sharpened my senses, sobered me, and reminded me why I didn’t like night swimming.

Brendon splashed me as he swam past, and I splashed him back. Chiara, her new boyfriend, and his friends bobbed around us, the ocean swelling and dipping as if it were a monster, breathing. Moonlight left a pale seam across the dark water, and the bonfire crackled onshore. Our other friends danced around the flames like living shadows.

Brendon dived beneath the surface and began tugging on our legs, trying to scare us. I floated on my back, buoyed by salt water, and watched the stars hold court overhead, the same stars that watched over the whole wide world. Brendon bumped me, and I felt the thrill of something big and dangerous beneath the water before he moved on. There was no undertow tonight, no danger of sleeper waves. For the first time since I’d moved here, I felt safe in the water.

Then a slick head popped up next to mine and blinked in my face, and I floundered away. My first thought was, Seal, but it wasn’t a seal. It was Jessica Sanchez. “You scared me,” I said.

She swam closer, her wet hair like silk, her eyelashes clumped in long spikes, her skin dripping like a storm. She glided smoothly, a vengeful mermaid, eyes pointed at me, her limbs pale in the inky water. “You’ll never get Jake back, and I’m sick of you talking about him. You need to leave us alone.”

“Have you been drinking?” I asked, then paddled away, glancing toward the shore. This wasn’t a version of Jessica I’d met before.

She cut me off. “Did you hear what I said?”

“I’m not doing anything to you and Jake.” The frigid water had frozen my skin, and my body quivered.

Brendon eyed Jessica and me with curiosity. “We’re going back. Too cold,” he said.

“Coming,” I called, but Jessica swam the angle, blocking me again. Her eyes blazed beneath the icy moon, searing me and forcing me to look at her, really look at her.

She was raw and sublimely pretty with only her head and shoulders above the water, a goddess raised from the deep. But beneath those silken cheeks and velvet eyes, I glimpsed the face of my ex–best friend, the little girl I had loved with all my heart, the girl who’d torn out my feelings and shredded them when we were eleven years old. My heart whirled. The memory was monstrous. “Get out of my way,” I snarled, stroking past her.

She snatched my arm and twirled me around. “Not until you promise to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Obsessing over Jake. Let him go.”

I laughed in her face. “Let him go? Are you aware he watches me when he thinks I can’t see? Just the other day we sat on his surfboard together. Maybe you should be having this conversation with him.” We rose and dipped with the waves, and I felt dizzy. My lips were stiff and numb, and I was growing tired of paddling.

Emotions raced across Jessica’s face. “Jake’s not interested in you.”

“His dick is.” A crude blow, but I needed to end things before we drowned out here.

Jessica surged forward, her lips curled back. “You’re wrong. He wouldn’t want you if you were the last girl on earth. You’re mean. You’re selfish.”

Jessica’s words caved my chest in, turned my legs to jelly. I was not mean or selfish. I was generous and honest and loyal. I glared at her. “I gave you everything, Jessica. I never said no to you, not once. No one will ever have your back like I did.”

“You said no to Chloe. You treated her like crap.”

“I didn’t like Chloe.”

Jessica’s eyes widen. “But I did! You never let me make my own choices. And now I have Jake and you don’t. Stop harassing us.”

I gaped at her, saw she believed this—this myth about me. I swam straight at her. “What Jake wants is Jake’s choice, and he wants me. All the guys do.”

“Prove it,” she cried, paddling out of my way. “I bet you fifty bucks you can’t even kiss Jake.”

I laughed. “You’re on.”

“What?”

I extended my hand toward her. “I said you’re on. I’ll take that bet.”

The blood that had darkened Jessica’s cheeks drained away, but she took my hand and shook it. Right then the hour struck midnight and Marcus lit a firework. It soared over the ocean and exploded, lighting our faces in all-American shades of red, white, and blue. “You’re going to regret this,” I said, and then swam back to my party, leaving Jessica bobbing like a cork.

The following day, Jessica texted me: Are we still on?

I swiped my hair off my face and texted her back: What are you talking about?

Jessica: The bet.

The bet? Lord, I’d forgotten about it. She’d bet me I couldn’t kiss Jake, but I didn’t believe she was serious. My pulse thrummed faster. Jessica wanted me to lose, to fail. As if I’d let that happen. My fingers flew across my screen: We shook on it, didn’t we? you want me to kiss jake. I’ll kiss jake. Done deal.

Jessica: He has to kiss you back or it doesn’t count. It has to be real.

Has she lost her mind? I thought, and texted: just get your $$$ ready loser

Gray dots and then: you’re the one who’s going to lose

I slammed my phone onto my desk. She was right, there was no way Jake would kiss me while they were still dating—I knew that like I knew my middle name—so how was I going to win this bet?