The Killing Kind

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

March 24

The low-slung canvas beach chair was a comfortable and peaceful place to be. The softly rippling ocean was so beautiful. It looked endless and eternal, so big it seemed nothing else could possibly exist somewhere beyond all that water. She imagined a world covered in water and populated by benevolent sea people. In her mind she pictured them as a weird cross between sea monkeys and mermaids and mermen. It was a silly, whimsical notion, but Zoe found it deeply appealing.

Most of her friends were wading in the ocean, either just standing there or splashing in the gently rolling tide. Chuck was farther out, floating on a rubber raft. Zoe was content to stay where she was for now. It was nice to just kick back from a slight distance, to just relax and observe. Zoe slipped her still mildly chilled Corona from the drink holder built into one of the chair arms and took a slow, refreshing pull from the bottle.

She heard footsteps approaching from behind-the distinctive slap of flip-flop soles on sand-and remembered there was one other of their number who had yet to dip her toes in the water.

She tensed.

Please don’t let this be weird…

Emily flopped into the chair next to her. She seemed a little agitated. Not a good sign.

“I hate Sean Hewitt.”

Zoe blinked. “What?”

“I hate Sean Hewitt.”

“I heard you. I just don’t understand what you’re saying. Did he…do something?”

Emily grunted. “You could say that.”

“Want to tell me about it?”

Even as she said it, Zoe regretted the words. She liked Sean well enough. He treated Annalisa well, from what she could tell, and he seemed a decent sort. Sure, he liked to joke around with the guys and make occasional rude comments. No big deal. It was what guys did when they drank beer and hung around together.

Emily huffed. “He grabbed my boob in the kitchen.”

“What? Seriously?”

Emily took her dark sunglasses off and looked right at her. She looked pissed off, but there was another quality evident just below the surface of the anger. She looked…hurt. Zoe frowned. Maybe she was wrong about Sean.

“Seriously. Said maybe we should play around some while everybody else was down here.”

“You’re shitting me.”

Emily sneered. “Nope. Had to pry his hand off my tit. The bastard.”

“That son of a bitch.”

“Yeah. You can’t tell Annalisa, okay? Things are weird enough between us without throwing that in the mix.”

Zoe was inclined to agree. There had been enough drama on this trip already. Enough for ten fucking vacations. She’d let it go for now and maybe bring it up at a later date.

She shrugged. “Okay.”

Emily was staring at her. “Like the bikini. Baby blue suits you.”

“Thanks.”

“You look hot.”

“Um…”

Emily laughed. “Don’t worry. I won’t go there again, I promise.”

Zoe smiled. “Thanks.”

“Are we cool then?”

Zoe shrugged again. “Sure. You’re my best friend.” A sudden welling of tears surprised her. “Shit.”

Emily leaned toward her and patted the back of a hand. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Zoe clasped hands with her. “I’m sorry I was a bitch all yesterday.”

Emily stroked Zoe’s wrist with the ball of her thumb. “Don’t worry about it. Seriously.”

The words brought forth another gush of tears. She wiped them away and sniffled. “I guess I was suppressing this. God, I’m such an idiot. I’d hate to lose my best friend over one freaky night.”

Emily smiled. “Honey, you’re not about to lose me.”

“Well…good.”

Emily, as always, looked amazing. Stunning. Everything toned but shapely. Legs so long and lean. Hair so perfect. The face of an angel crossed with a 1940s femme fatale. She looked like a movie star, like a woman born for a life of glitz and glamor. Hell, she was young yet. Zoe suspected those things lurked somewhere in her friend’s future.

Emily let go of her hand and reached into the tote bag she’d carried to the beach with her. She pulled out her cell phone, flipped it open, and punched in a number.

“Who are you calling?”

Emily smirked. “Remember Clayton Wilson?”

“That pitiful geek who had a crush on you last fall?”

“Yep.”

“Why are you calling him?”

Emily’s smile was evil. “To play with him a little.”

Zoe laughed. “You’re such a bad girl.”

“You know it.” Emily’s face brightened, and when she spoke her tone was one of bubbly enthusiasm. “Hey, Clay!”

A tinny voice came from the cell phone’s speaker.

Emily winked at Zoe. “Yeah, baby, I’ve missed you, too. Sooo much.”

Zoe covered a giggle with a hand.

Emily touched her knee and mouthed the word Stop! She grinned and again spoke in that obnoxious bubbly tone. “I wish I could see you right now. I’ve been thinking about you every day for weeks.“

That tinny voice emanated from the phone again.

Emily shook her head. “No, no, no. I was gonna go to Myrtle Beach, but I had a huge fight with stupid Joe right before we left and stayed behind.” Her voice had turned pensive, and she nodded along as the voice from the other end spoke painfully earnest words of comfort and reassurance. “I know, I know. It’s not fair at all. But I know what would make me feel better, baby. Do you think you could meet me up at the Villager Tavern tonight? Say around seven?”

Loud squeaking sounds emerged from the cell phone’s speaker.

Sounds of joy.

Zoe covered another giggle, and Emily slapped her knee and waved an admonishing finger.

“Yeah, good. So glad to hear that, Clay. We’ll just hang out and have fun. Maybe stroll around campus hand in hand.” Now she sounded wistful, as if this would be the fulfillment of a fond wish. “Awesome. Excellent. Love you, too, sweetie. See ya at seven. We’re gonna have so much fun. Ciao, baby.”

She flipped the phone shut and giggled.

Zoe uncovered her mouth and laughed out loud. “That was fucking sick, Emily. That poor boy.”

Emily smiled. “It was awesome. And you know it.”

Zoe smiled back. “Yeah.”

Emily laughed. “Can you just picture it? That little loser waiting and waiting, walking around, looking all over for me, staring at his cheap watch? Too bad all my friends are off campus this week, or I’d have somebody go over there and get some video footage, maybe put it up on YouTube.”

Zoe thought of something and her smile withered. “Huh…don’t you feel sort of hypocritical now?”

“Why would I?”

Zoe frowned. “Well…you were so hard on Chuck about how he treated that little goth girl. I was mad at him, too. I feel sort of bad now.”

Emily rolled her eyes. “Oh, whatever. You know I just like to fuck with Chuck. I don’t really give a damn about that stupid girl. Speaking of Chuck…are you two really back on? I thought the split was a done deal.”

Zoe picked up her Corona bottle again and took a sip. “It’s complicated. I guess we’re back on. For now.” Her mood shifted again, her eyes twinkling and her smile curving in a way that suggested naughty thoughts. “We’ve been having some wicked-hot sex.”

Emily snorted. “Maybe he should get the shit beat out of him more often.”

Zoe grinned. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Emily stood up and stretched, purposely displaying the full glory of her gorgeous figure. “I think it’s time I got wet.”

Zoe stared at her. “Yeah.”

Emily started walking toward the ocean. She turned and walked backward a few steps as she said, “Come on, Zoe. Come get wet with me.”

Then she turned away again and sprinted toward the ocean. She waded out until the water was up over her hips, then she sucked in a breath and dove beneath the surface. She surfaced again some twenty yards farther out, bobbing above the water like the top half of the hottest mermaid ever.

She spotted Zoe and waved.

Zoe waved back.

She finished off her beer and stood up, began to walk toward the ocean. She smiled, her gaze alternating between the still-recumbent form of Chuck Kirby and the sleek, dazzling water acrobatics of the best friend she’d ever had.

She shivered with delight at the first sensation of water sliding over her feet.

Time to get wet.