Chapter 12 Chapter Twelve

Chapter 12 Chapter Twelve

“Mara,” he calls back, like he’s surprised but pleased. Like this is what he wanted all along.
My chest tightens. No one told me she was coming. Judging by Gemma and Josh’s equally stunned faces, none of us knew. Except Gavin.
Or maybe not even Gavin, I realize, watching the stiffness in his shoulders as he starts wading toward the shore. He’s selling it hard — acting like her being here is the best thing that could’ve happened.
The question I asked a second ago — about last night, about what he meant — drowns under the sound of Mara’s laugh carrying over the surf.
And just like that, I’m invisible again.
Mara’s sandals sink into the sand as she meets Gavin halfway, throwing her arms around him like she’s been waiting her whole life for this exact moment. He lets her, even leans into it, smiling as if nothing about this is unexpected.
Josh glances at me, eyebrows shooting up. Since when…? the look says. I can only shrug, trying not to let my face betray the twist in my stomach.
Gemma whispers, “Did you know she was coming?”
“No,” I mutter back, shaking my head.
Eben, standing a few feet away with his board tucked under one arm, lets out a low whistle. “Well, that’s a plot twist.” He grins like it’s entertaining, but I can tell he’s clocking Gavin’s stiff posture just as much as I am.
Mara finally pulls back, still holding onto Gavin’s arm as if to stake her claim. “Surprise,” she beams at him, then casts a quick look at the rest of us. “Hope you don’t mind me crashing.”
Josh recovers first, plastering on a polite smile. “Uh, sure. The more the merrier.” His tone says otherwise, but he’s trying.
Gemma’s polite too, though her eyes flick from Mara to me like she’s already piecing things together.
And Gavin? He just clears his throat, nodding like this is normal, like she didn’t just appear out of nowhere and upend everything. “Yeah. It’s fine.”
But when his eyes flick past Mara, landing on me for the briefest second, that same storm I saw earlier flashes again — the one he’s trying so hard to bury.
Mara’s arms stay looped around Gavin’s, her head tilted sweetly against his shoulder as if she belongs there.
Josh breaks the silence first. “So… uh, when did this get planned?” His tone is light, but there’s an edge of confusion.
Mara beams. “Gavin invited me. Said it wouldn’t feel right without me here.”
The words hit harder than they should. My chest tightens, and I force myself to look at the sand instead of at him.
Gemma raises her brows, glancing between us. Eben smirks like he’s enjoying the drama unfold.
“Yeah,” Gavin says smoothly, sliding his arm around Mara’s waist as if to back her up. His expression is unreadable, practiced. “I asked her to come down for a bit.”
It’s too perfect. Too easy. And yet, even as he says it, I catch it—the tiniest flicker in his eyes when they dart toward me. A flicker that tells a different story.
“Right,” Gemma mutters under her breath, not buying it.
Josh just nods slowly, though his eyes narrow like he’s turning it over in his head.
I cross my arms, the heat prickling in my chest sharper now. If he really wanted her here, if this was part of his plan all along, then what was that moment earlier? What was any of it?
And just like that, the fragile thread between us feels like it snaps.
Mara’s settled right beside Gavin, her hand resting on his knee like it belongs there. She laughs at something Eben says, tossing her hair, and Gavin smiles on cue — but I see it, the stiffness in his shoulders, the way his laugh doesn’t quite reach his eyes.
Josh stretches out on the sand, shooting me a look like since when? I can only shrug, forcing a smile I don’t feel.
I try to focus on Gemma, on the surfboards lined up at the water’s edge, on anything but the way Gavin’s gaze flicks over to me when he thinks no one notices. And every time, my chest tightens a little more.
When the weight of it gets too heavy, I excuse myself for another drink and slip toward the shade of the beach house. The air feels cooler there, easier to breathe.
“Running off?”
His voice makes me spin. Gavin’s leaning against the wall, arms crossed, eyes steady on me like he’s been waiting.
I clutch the cup in my hand tighter. “Why didn’t you tell me she was coming?” The question comes out softer than I expect, almost fragile.
He doesn’t answer right away, just studies me, unreadable as always.
“She said you invited her.” I hesitate, looking at the sand. “Is that true?”
Something flickers in his expression — quick, gone before I can name it. He shifts, running a hand through his hair. “It’s… complicated.”
I swallow hard, forcing the words out. “Earlier, you asked me if I remembered last night. And now she’s here, and it feels like—like none of it mattered.” My voice wavers, but I keep going. “Did it?”
For a heartbeat, the only sound is the ocean rolling behind us. Then he steps closer, his voice low, careful. “It mattered.”
My breath catches, but before I can ask what he means, Mara’s voice cuts through the air.
“Gavin!”
His jaw tenses. He takes a step back, the wall slamming shut behind his eyes. “Later,” he mutters, before turning toward the sound of her call.
And just like that, he’s gone, and I’m left standing there with more questions than answers.
I stand there for a moment after Gavin leaves, my cup shaking in my hand, my throat thick with words I’ll never say. By the time I make myself walk back toward the group, I’ve practiced the smile enough that it almost feels believable. Almost.
Eben is mid-story, something about wiping out on a wave last summer, and everyone’s laughing. Mara’s tucked under Gavin’s arm now, like she’s been there all along, and he plays the part so easily I almost convince myself I imagined everything.
“Hey, there you are.” Gemma slides closer, her eyes scanning my face. “You good?”
“Yeah.” The lie is too quick, too practiced. I take a sip from my drink, forcing another smile. “Totally fine.”
Gemma raises a brow, unimpressed. She leans in, lowering her voice so only I can hear. “You’re a terrible liar, Ari.”
My chest tightens, but I shake my head. “It’s nothing. Really.”
Her gaze flicks between me and Gavin, then back again, like she’s piecing together a puzzle I’m not ready to look at. But instead of pressing, she just links her arm through mine and grins. “Fine. But you’re telling me everything later. No excuses.”
I let out a shaky laugh, grateful and terrified all at once.
Across the fire, Gavin glances up. For a second, his eyes lock on mine — just a flicker, just long enough for my heart to trip over itself. Then Mara whispers something in his ear, and he looks away.
The fire crackles higher as the night deepens, sparks spiraling into the dark sky. Someone drags a speaker closer, and music pulses through the sand — loud, bass-heavy, the kind that makes the ground feel alive under bare feet.
Eben’s already in the center of it all, spinning a girl around like the party’s his stage. Josh isn’t far behind, laughing too loudly with a drink in his hand, his arm draped around someone I don’t recognize.
I sit with Gemma at the edge of the firelight, letting her chatter fill the space where my thoughts should be. She’s buzzing with energy, already half pulled into the rhythm of the night, but she keeps glancing at me, checking in without words.
I try to focus on the chaos — the laughter, the clinking bottles, the way the flames paint everyone in gold. I even let myself sway a little when a favorite song comes on. For a moment, it almost works.
Almost.
Because every time I glance across the fire, I find Gavin. And every time, he’s already looking back.
He’s got his arm slung around Mara, her head resting comfortably against his shoulder, but his eyes betray him. They keep drifting to me, catching mine before he looks away, pretending it never happened.
My stomach twists. It feels like I’m standing on the edge of something dangerous, something that could burn just as hot as the fire we’re gathered around.
“Come on,” Gemma tugs at my arm, pulling me up with a grin. “We’re dancing. No excuses.”
I laugh, letting her drag me into the glow of the flames, into the swirl of bodies moving to the beat. For a while, I lose myself in it — in the music, in the heat, in the blur of the night.
But even then, even surrounded by all of it, I can still feel his eyes on me.
Gemma doesn’t let go of me until we’re both breathless, laughing so hard I nearly trip into the sand. The music thunders around us, bodies pressed close, the fire throwing shadows that twist and stretch across the beach.
“Game time!” Eben’s voice cuts through the noise like a battle cry. He’s standing on a cooler now, grinning wide, holding up a bottle like a prize. “Kings Cup! Everyone in!”
Groans and cheers ripple through the crowd, but nobody says no. A circle quickly forms around the fire, bottles and red cups being passed as people shuffle into the sand. Gemma pulls me down beside her before I can think twice.
Eben explains the rules with dramatic flair, like everyone doesn’t already know them. Cards start getting pulled, laughter erupting with every ridiculous dare or confession. Josh ends up having to chug half a beer for “breaking the circle,” and he does it with a bow, earning cheers.
When it’s my turn, Eben himself leans over, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Truth or dare, Ari?”
I hesitate, but Gemma nudges me hard. “Dare!” she shouts for me.
Eben’s grin widens. “Dance on the cooler. Right now.”
The circle erupts in laughter and cheers. My face burns, but the alcohol buzzing in my veins makes it easier to play along. I climb up, wobbling as everyone whistles and claps.
Gemma joins me halfway through, and soon we’re both laughing so hard we can barely stand.
But when I glance down, my laughter falters. Gavin’s watching me, expression unreadable, Mara curled under his arm like she owns the space beside him.
Another round. More cards. More chaos.
Gemma’s dared to steal Eben’s hat, which she does with dramatic flair. Josh gets roped into a shotgun contest and wins by a landslide, strutting back like a champion. Mara even gets pulled into a dare to kiss the person to her left, which happens to be Gavin — and though she goes for it eagerly, I notice the slight hesitation in the way he responds.
By the time another card lands in front of me, the world feels warm and dizzy. Eben grins. “Waterfall.”
Groans echo, but everyone lifts their cups.
The fire blurs, the laughter sharpens, and the night feels like it’s spiraling into something bigger than all of us.