3. integration

Yet again, I was avoiding the beach like the plague. It was hard, though. Although I usually prefer being cooped up in my own room, the past couple of days had made me feel restless. Something about the beach brought me solace, despite the fact that I attempted to end my life there. But I was scared of running into Roman if I went to the beach, so I had to make do with my front porch. It had worked for a while, but I felt like a seventy-year-old man every time someone’s kid ran on the lawn or someone didn’t pick up after their dog. I tried reading or writing or binge-watching something on Netflix.

Unfortunately, none of this gave me the same feeling as going to the beach. I was driving myself insane. And for what? A boy?

I spent most of my time trying to write. Sometimes I didn’t even think about what I was writing. I would just let my pen do all the talking. I never reread what I wrote. I just let it stay. I wanted it to be raw, even if there was a million and one mistakes. It wasn’t like anyone was going to actually read it so it didn’t matter.

“Abigail?” my aunt called. I got up from my seat on the porch step and made my way inside the house. I tightened my cardigan around my strapless sundress. It stopped an inch or two above my knee.

I typically didn’t wear dresses or shorts around people due to the self-harm. No one knew about my cutting and I didn’t plan on letting them know. But most of my scars on my legs had faded and it was too hot for sweatpants.

“Yes?” I asked, entering the kitchen.

My aunt Lisa was in her mid-fifties. She was a couple inches shorter than my 5’4 frame. She had light brown and greyish hair and dark brown, nearly black, eyes just like my mother.

“The Jameson’s invited the block over for a barbeque at their place next weekend,” she said excitedly. “Why don’t you make something to bring to them?”

I knew what she was trying to get at but I wasn’t going to give in. Before my parents had passed away, my mother and I had baked together all the time. It was our thing. It didn’t feel right for me to bake without her. It just wasn’t the same.

“No thanks,” I said, a little too harshly. Her smile fell and I immediately felt guilty.

“Honey,” she said in that same tone I was used to for the past two goddamn years.

I wanted to apologize, really, but it was hard for me to let it out, especially when she gave me that look like she pitied me. “I’m going to the beach.” Before she could respond, I turned on my heels and was out the door. I did feel guilty for being cold towards her but, at the moment, I don’t need any more reminders of the past, especially when I already do a too good of a job doing that on my own.

“Watch out!”

A volleyball came hurdling towards me. Luckily, I was able to sidestep it. It bounced on the ground, rolling a couple feel away from me. I grabbed it and turned to toss it to the group of people when I recognized the person running towards me for the ball.

“Abigail, hey,” Roman said, panting slightly. He was wearing a pair of beach shorts, showing off his muscular build. His hair was slightly damp, which I’m assuming is from the water. His skin glistened underneath the sunlight like gold would in light.

“Roman.” He smiled – it was the first time I’ve ever seen him smile – showing off a slight dimple on his left cheek.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” he said, taking the ball from my outstretched hands. I nodded.

“Been busy,” I mumbled. He was about to say something but stopped when his name was called out.

“Stop flirting and get your ass back in the game!” One of his friends yelled, causing the group to let out giggles. There was a small group of them: two males and two females. Roman tossed the ball back towards them before turning back to me.

“You should get back,” I told him. He looked at me, pursing his lips as he thought of something.

“Come join us,” he said. “I’m not gonna let you be bored by yourself.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Who said I’d be bored?”

Roman smiled again, almost cheekily. “Let’s just say it’s intuition.”

A few moments later, I found myself following Roman. Don’t ask me why I accepted his offer because I don’t know the answer to that myself.

“This is Anna and Maggie,” he said, pointing to the two other girls.

They both gave me welcoming smiles, not the protective or jealous kinds of smiles you’d expect. Anna was short and had strawberry blonde hair with a round face and vibrant green eyes. Maggie, on the other hand, stood out the most with her dark purple hair. It was an edgy, yet attractive look that definitely suited her. Her chocolate brown eyes held a hint of mischief in them but otherwise was extremely friendly.

Roman, then, pointed towards the two boys. “That’s Tony and Asher.”

Tony had light brown hair and icy blue eyes with a flirty smile. He was easily the jokester of the group and probably the most carefree one. Asher was probably the tallest of them all, with beautiful grassy green eyes and golden-brown hair.

“This is Abigail,” Roman said to them, pointing towards me.

“Hey,” they all greeted simultaneously while I awkwardly waved.

“Come join our team!” Maggie exclaimed, grabbing my arm.

“Those idiots need a taste of their own medicine,” Anna said to me with a grin. “Are you any good at volleyball?”

“I guess I can serve pretty well?” I said, although it came out as more of a question.

“Great!” Maggie beamed, tossing me the ball.

“Come at us babygirl!” Tony teased.

I raised an eyebrow as I appraised them. Tony was definitely the cocky one of the group. I positioned the ball, swinging my arm and hitting it over the net. Tony and Asher both yelled “Got it!” and stopped when they heard the other. The ball landed right in between them.

“ Love!” Maggie exclaimed.

“That’s tennis, Mags,” Roman corrected with an amused grin.

“Minor details,” she responded, flinging her hair over her sun-kissed shoulders.

“I think the term you’re looking for is ace,” I said.

“I like her,” Maggie said, pointing her thumb at me while speaking to Roman. “It’s about time you introduced us to her.”

I froze. “What do you mean it’s about time?” I asked. He did not…

“Roman told us about you,” she said simply, looking at me confused. I took a step back, dropping the ball to my feet before glaring at Roman.

“You asshole,” I spat.

“Abi-“

“No, fuck you.” I walked off angrily, heading back to the house, ignoring his call. I was furious. He told them. They know.

“Abby!” I ignored him, trying to move as quickly as I can but he was a lot quicker than me. He latched onto my arm, spinning me around.

“Would you just stop for a second and let me explain?” he asked exasperatedly.

“What?” I asked angrily, yanking my arm free.

“I didn’t tell them what happened,” he said, panting slightly in between words, crushing my resolve into crumbles. I was suddenly quiet and extremely embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, biting my lower lip as I glanced away for a moment. “I…I thought…”

“I know,” he said softly, giving me a small smile. “Come on.” He held out his hand. I stared at it for a moment before looking at him. I hesitated a bit before slowly placing my hand in his, ignoring the weird feeling that began to form in the pit of my stomach.