Lena

Weston walks me out of the mall and to the car, being weird, even for him. When we reached the car he even stepped ahead of me and pulled the door open for me to step inside, motioning with his hand like he was an old school chauffer from a movie or something.

As he closed the door behind me I swiveled in my seat to watch him walk around the back of the car, shaking his head at himself and saying something under his breath the whole way before he dropped into his seat beside me. He kept his eyes forward and rubbed his palms against his pants legs almost like he was nervous or had sweaty hands. But why would he be? I actually laughed a little at myself for even thinking something so ridiculous.

As soon as the small giggle was out, his head was turned towards me, his eyes narrowing. "What's so funny?" He demands, the tips of his ears turning a light red.

Wow, he actually is nervous about something. 

Dropping my eyes I feel my cheeks heat up a little so I look out my window, letting my freshly done hair fall between us where he couldn't study my face, not that he would in the first place. "Nothing." I try to say coolly.

We fall quiet for a minute and I find myself wondering how the heck I got myself here. A couple of hours ago I was crying on the side of the road covered in mud, and now I'm sitting nervously in the car of my enemy wearing a $375 dress with my hair and makeup done like I'm going to be in a fashion show in a few minutes.

"So..." I turn back to him slowly, finding him already looking my way. "What are we doing?"

He swallows back hard, leaning into his seat. "Um, I guess whatever you want to do."

"I thought you had a plan?" I point out, raising an eye brow.

He shrugs casually and sits back up. "Yeah well, you know I'm always full of shit." He admits with a coy smile. "So give me an idea, what do you want to do now?"

Am I imagining the way he just leaned in a little?

"You could always-."

"I AM NOT TAKING YOU HOME!" He shouts red faced and I lean forward in an unexpected bout of laughter.

I try to reign it in but it's been so long since I've had a good laugh that I can't seem to quit now that I've started again. "Ok..." I grind out words between giggles. "I'm...hungry..."

"Would you stop?" Weston just shakes his head at me for a second, trying hard to hold back his smile as he watches me. He starts to laugh a little too after a moment and he turns to shove the key into the ignition and start the car. "Stop laughing like that or we are going to crash and I am too hungry to die right now." He smiles, but then it's like the air is sucked from the car as we both fall silent and still.

The mention of death leaves us in a somber state and I know that Weston is thinking of Beckham just like me.

My hand moves on its own accord and it falls on Weston's thigh. He tenses a little at the contact, but he eases after a second, pulling the car out of the parking lot. I guess I was attempting to comfort him, but now that I've got my hand on his leg like this I'm super uncomfortable. But it's not like I can just yank it back now. That was sure to make it even weirder and then he'd know how uncomfortable I am. Which I can't do, so I leave it there as I look out the window.

After a truly reasonable amount of time, I slowly slide it back to my lap, not meeting his eyes when he glances my way.

The rest of the ride was quiet, the only noise coming from the wind whooshing in Weston's cracked window. Neither of us moved to turn on the radio, and though usually I can't really stand for there to be an awkward silence, this didn't feel awkward. It almost felt comfortable. Right up until I'd remind myself that I'm in the car with Weston freaking Ford. The playboy jerk of Plexer Prep and the one who had seemed to have a life mission to get on my last nerve up until my brother died.

I still hated the thought that he was only being nice to me now because he felt sorry for me. I didn't want anyone's sympathy, especially his.

Just as I was psyching myself up to be mad at him again, like was the normal way of the world, I looked around, the smell of the ocean wafting in through his window and I realized that we'd been driving for an hour and a half and we were now on the main strip, peeks of the water coming between all of the beach front resorts, clubs, and restaurants.

He put on his blinker and I gaped at him, in total disbelief as we pulled into my all-time favorite restaurant The Selfish Shellfish Sea Side Grill. "What are- how did you? What?" My nonsense seemed to make some sort of sense to him since he smiled smugly.

"I know it's your favorite." He says simply, parking the car facing the ocean, big dark blue swells rolling in with the afternoon.

I opened and closed my mouth at least ten times but nothing came out. I haven't been here since I was young. Back when Mom and Dad were still together, and alive, we used to come to the beach for one week every summer and on our last day we'd eat here. After they died we started going on short trips to the beach with the Fords sometimes but Beckham was never a fan of seafood and with it being him and Weston against me, I never got to pick where we ate and I haven't been back to the beach in almost five years, no longer interested in tagging along with them as they got older.

"I can't believe you remembered." I say, truly still stunned.

He just shrugged like it wasn't a big deal when to me it was a huge one. He got out without another word and I scrambled out behind him, stretching my arms over my head and then straightening out my dress. It looked exactly the same as I remembered it. A big wooden building painted in a vibrant orange with a teal slanted roof and huge deck out back covered in bright yellow tables with big rainbow umbrella's over the top of them.

I started to follow behind Weston to walk up the sandbank to the side to go out back but my shoes kept sinking so I paused to lean over and unhook the clasps on the sides. Weston stopped, turning back and offered me a hand to steady me while I did it and without a second thought, I took it, letting him keep me from falling over in the sand.

When they were off I picked them both up and held them in one hand as Weston tugged my other one, his hand still cupping mine. The feel of the sand between my toes was so wonderful I almost wanted to cry.

Everything else in my life kept trying to creep into the back of my mind... The school work I'm missing right now that I'm going to have to use my one night off of work to get done, my drunk uncle, my dislike of Weston, my awful job, and my heartbreak over Beckham finally seem to take a backseat to the present. Live a little. I tell myself, letting Weston lead me up onto the back deck where a waitress dressed in a cute floral red dress is waiting with menus in hand.

"Table for two?" She asks, her eyes scanning over us, resting on our linked hands a beat before coming back up. I try hard not to chew my bottom lip as I nod to her once.

We follow behind her as she leads us through the throngs of tables, mostly empty at this time on a week day, until we are right against the railing, the perfect view of the ocean. "This good?" She sought our approval, but I couldn't take my eyes off of the expanses of water before me. It made me feel small, and I liked it. Like I'm not destroying the whole world by skipping a day of school to hang out with the guy I've sworn to hate all of my days who just so happens to still be holding my hand.

As if he read my thoughts, or finally noticed too, Weston dropped my hand as the hostess laid out the menus on the table and dashed away to greet the next group of people.

"As long as I've lived near the ocean, I still never get tired of seeing it." Weston murmured, almost under his breath.

I saw him take his seat out of the corner of my eye, but I wanted one more second. It had been too long since the last time I'd watched the gulls soar over the water. Too long since I'd been wrapped in the touch of a salty breeze or heard the crash of the waves as they cascaded over the shore. "It's beautiful." I whisper to myself, quietly storing the sight away for later.

"Beautiful." Weston's voice sounds...wistful? I turn from the ocean to take my seat just as he drops his gaze, but I'm not sure what he was looking at, because it wasn't the water. I start to ask, but seeming to sense it coming, he throws his feet up in the seat beside me and grins that awful cocky smile I can't stand. "So, food?"

I roll my eyes, pushing away the menu. I don't need it, I know exactly what I want. "Food." I agree with a smile, not feeling like rising to the bait of his annoying smile.

Weston waves over a waiter and orders a plate of coconut shrimp and jalapeno honey French fries and then glances over at me. I click my heels excitedly against the wooden slat floor, my stomach doing little flips at the thought. "I'll have the Dungeness crab in the old bay seasoning with a side of seared ahi tuna, fried crab and cream cheese balls, an order of the firecracker shrimp with the tangy lime sauce and I also want some of the jalapeno honey fries." I hand the man my menu as he stares down at me with wide eyes. Meanwhile Weston hides his smile behind his fist in front of his mouth as he glances back and forth between me and the waiter before he finally turns to go. "Oh, wait!" I nearly jump out of my seat as I call to him. "I also want a cup of the Lady Lobster Bisque, please." I smile broadly, settling back into my chair.

The waiter practically runs away, probably so I won't order any more food, and Weston busts out laughing. "What?" I cross my arms over my chest, feeling a little on the spot now that it's just me and him again. "I told you I was hungry." I shrug, only making him laugh a little harder.

"You did." Weston nods after a minute, gathering himself as he takes a big gulp of his water and averts his eyes back to the ocean. A little family is on the sandbank, the mom and father holding hands as they watch their two little girls running up and down the beach, squealing when their feet touch the water. A bright yellow kite soars overhead being held by an older son and I find myself watching as it whips around in the wind.

The food comes out fast and I don't even try to not clap my hands in front of me as the two waiters lay out everything on the table in front of us. Weston's meal looks downright tiny compared to what all is on my side of the table, but the more I look at it...

"You can have some." He rolls his eyes, pushing his plate of coconut shrimp towards me a little. I hesitate a little, but finally give in and reach over to grab one off of the plate, sending it for a quick dip in the honey lemon sauce before taking a glorious bite, moaning as I chewed. It was so good. Weston just shakes his head once and grabs one for himself. "You never could stand when someone ordered something different than you. Like you think you're missing out on the one thing you didn't order for yourself." He chuckles, his light blue eyes seeming to take on the color of the water.

I take a big bite of my tuna and nod. He was right. I did always want to try whatever everyone else got. "Well," I say around my food. "In my defense if I didn't try that shrimp I would be missing out. It is amazing." I groan, picking up my cup of soup to take a long hot sip.

Weston reaches over the table then, his hand going for some of my crab but I slap the top of it before he reaches my plate. I'd startled him and he jumped a little. "What the-."

"I didn't say I was sharing." I tell him, serious faced. His jaw went slack and he slowly brought his hand back until I started laughing. "Come on, Weston." I shake my head. "I'm just messing with you. You can have some of whatever you want," I smile warmly, holding a hand out over my buffet before me, but then I narrow my eyes. "Except for this." I tell him, picking up my bisque and holding it carefully. "This is mine." I take a long appreciative sip to prove my point.

Weston tentatively reaches out again, snagging a crab leg and breaking it open to pull the juicy meat out of it, but the whole time he watches me, this weird look on his face. "What?" I finally ask, then look down at my soup. "Fine, if you want to try it you can have like one spoonful." I relent, holding out my spoon for him. "A really little spoonful though."

He just laughs, finally looking down. "I don't want your soup, Lena."

It didn't matter how many times he'd called me by my actual name lately, it sounded strange every time. It just wasn't natural coming out of his mouth. "Then why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" He asks defensively, but then he shakes his head, the rigidness in his shoulders easing back out. "I don't know." He says quietly before looking back up at me, the intensity in his eyes as they meet mine making me swallow hard. "You're different than I thought you were."

That takes me by surprise.

I don't know what I expected him to say, maybe that he was staring because I have pepper in between my teeth or something, but not that. Literally almost anything else would make more sense to me.

I furrow my brows, setting down my bisque. "You've known me since we were kids, Weston." I mumble, uncomfortable under his stare. He's never stared at me like that before, and I'm not up to it. I'd usually fight with him and never lower my eyes first, but I can't help but look away.

"Maybe not." He says so quietly under his breath I almost don't hear him, then he goes right back to eating, the both of us sharing off of each other's plates like nothing was said.

After we eat we take a walk out onto the beach.

Weston hangs back from me a little, holding mine and his shoes in just one of his big hands while I walk along the water, letting the waves crash up against my calves as the sun bares down on me, my skin warm under its touch.

As a big swell moves in and then draws back I noticed something wedged in the wet sand and I time the waves out, yanking my dress up higher on my legs so that I can dash out as soon as the water recedes to grab the big, white, and fully intact sand dollar. I go to hold it up over my head in victory but the waves come back faster than I can run away and I catch a big wave up the back of my thighs and my butt, the bottom half of my dress soaked through.

I scream like the little girls from earlier as I run out of the water, protecting my find as Weston runs down from the sandbank laughing. "What'd you find?" He calls out as he gets closer. "Hope it was worth it." He's still laughing when we meet and I stop just in front of him, holding up the sand dollar in front of his chest.

"For you." I tell him, still giggling.

He reaches out, his hand brushing mine as he takes it from me slowly, his smile turning serious. "For me?" He repeated, pulling his brows together to knit in a line. "Why for me? You used to come out here searching for these damn things all the time and only ever found pieces of them. You should keep it."

Something in his eyes makes me stop laughing and I become hyper aware of how close we are together and then my eyes widen when I notice that one of my traitor hands is resting on the center of his chest like it's no biggie. I pull it back quickly, putting my hands that can't be trusted behind my back and clasping them together.

"I want you to have it." I tell him, confused as to why my voice came out so husky. I clear my throat, but I don't back away, not this time. "I don't have any other way to thank you for today-."

"You don't need to thank me." He shakes his head, cutting me off.

Out of nowhere one of my hands lands right back on the center of his chest in front of me again. "I do." I tell him, glancing down at it and wondering how the heck this keeps happening. "I was having...well, another day in the life of me, but you..." I bite my lip and then immediately release it when his eyes drop down to my mouth. "Without you today, without this..." I use that as an excuse to take my hand back down to fan it towards the restaurant and then to the ocean. "I needed it, Weston." I smile and he looks embarrassed at first, his eyes looking down before he glances back up under his long black eye lashes at me.

Have his eye lashes always been so long?

"I'm glad I could help." He says after a weirdly long moment of eye contact between the two of us. "I want you to know..." He drifts off, then smiles down at me. "And I know you can take care of yourself," He laughs and the sound of it makes butterflies go wild in my stomach. Butterflies? Not nausea? That's a first. "But if you ever need anything, I'm here for you."

I pause, debating telling him everything. The job, my uncle, the way I haven't slept a whole night through because of the nightmares, but I can't muster up the energy to ruin this. Thoughts and truths like that don't belong somewhere as beautiful as this. Instead I smile up at him. Did I just step closer or did he? It was him, right? "I know." I whisper. "And that's why you get my very first sand dollar."

He holds it close to his chest and then nods. "I'll keep it safe." He chuckles lightly, the breeze blowing in the small space between us and I shiver from my wet dress stuck to me. He notices, smoothly turning away as he drapes a giant arm over my shoulders and leads me with him. "Let's get going." He says and we both glance back at the water before heading back up the beach to the car.

Weston opens my car door for me again and reaches into the back to grab his blazer to put in the seat for me to sit on and a big black hoodie for me to pull on. As I settle into my seat I think to check my phone, digging it out of my bag while Weston walks around the car I open it up, finding a couple of texts from Yasmine. The first one instantly making my heart stop.

Yasss: Hey girl...have you seen this?

Attached to the comment it a picture.

One of me looking like hell if hell is a teenage girl covered in grime and looking like a basket case. "Oh my god." I groan loudly and Weston pulls his door open quickly to sit in beside me.

"What's wrong?" He asks, his face concerned until I turn the screen to him and he sighs, biting his lip. He almost looks angry.

"Yasmine says that everyone is sending it around and telling people to caption it." I huff, determined not to cry anymore today. Especially not here where I can still see the beach from where we are parked.

"Just ignore it." Weston says, totally unhelpful.

"That's such a guy thing to say." I roll my eyes, throwing my phone down into the floorboard beside my bag. The damn thing is ancient, I don't have to worry about breaking it, then I sit back in my seat, my arms crossed. "I look like a freak of nature in that picture. And I'm out in freaking public like that. I can't believe I went in there looking like something a cat coughed up."

"Smile." Weston says behind me and I shoot him a dirty look, confused and annoyed until I see he is holding his nice phone out in front of us, the camera opened.

"What?" I ask, looking from the phone back to him.

Weston reaches across me to flip the visor down in front of me, the lighted mirror in my face and he points to my reflection. "You definitely don't look like something a cat coughed up anymore." He tells me, then flips the mirror shut again. "Now smile," He holds the phone back up, leaning into me.

"What are you doing?" I nearly shriek, leaning back.

Weston rolls his eyes and reaches out to pull me back over, putting his arm around my shoulders and holding the phone up. "Let them caption this one." He tells me, holding out the phone yet again, leaning in so that we are both in the frame, our cheeks touching. "Smile." He demands a little more forceful this time and I finally comply, letting him snap the picture of the two of us, then he leans away, typing out things on his screen. "There." He smiles over at me and I stare back, incredulous.

"What about your rep?" I ask him quietly, only half joking. Weston doing all this nice stuff where no one knew he was doing it or saw him was easier to make sense of in my head than it was to see him openly associating himself with me. It was just plain weird, and yet...sweet.

I nearly laugh at myself. Weston freaking Ford, sweet. It just didn't make sense, but I didn't have it in me anymore today to question it much further.

"Who needs a reputation anyway?" He laughs, starting the car and getting on the road.

At some point I must have fallen asleep because I find Weston looking at me, something feeling like he may have brushed his hands across my cheek. I blink a few times in confusion, sitting up and finding myself in my own driveway.

"Thanks." I mumble, still disoriented and I try to wriggle out of his hoodie but he reaches over and puts a hand on mine, stilling it.

"Keep it." He smiles, he's back to looking sheepish again. Something that just doesn't look right on Mr. Know It All Cocky Bastard.

I pull my lips into my mouth and nod, unsure what to do now, I gather my things and push open the door, pulling my bag out behind me. "Thanks again for today." I tell him around a yawn.

He just smiles and I go to close the door until he calls me back. "Here," He says, twisting around in his seat and pulling his school bag up front. He takes out one of his binders, flipping through a few pages before unclicking the loops and handing me a couple of sheets. I look down and find the Chem homework I'd ruined this morning. "Just copy it and you can give it back to me in class."

I sigh around a smile. "I was dreading having to get this all redone." I admit. "Thank you."

"Your welcome." He nods once and I linger for only a second before I finally walk away from the car and the weirdest day of my life, heading back into my house of nightmares.

The next morning I wake up early, knowing I'll have to take the bus since I didn't feel like walking all the way to a gas station to get gas to fill up Terrie's truck after I got home last night. I'll have to do it later today though if I'm going to make it to work. The bus doesn't go through that part of town.

Eating my yogurt in a rush, I slide my phone around on the counter in front of me. I think long and hard about just asking Yas or maybe even Weston to give me a ride so I don't have to walk anywhere today, but I decide against it. I hate to come off clingy and he'd already done so much for me yesterday.

I sigh gathering my things and head out the door but as I walk down the short driveway I stop dead in front of Terrie's truck. Beside the driver side door is a big red gas can, one kick tells me it's full. I bend over and pull off the note stuck to it.

I knew you wouldn't call to ask for it, so here it is.

I shook my head, a stupid grin on my face as I stared at it.

"Weston Ford." I laugh under my breath as I hall up the can and fill up the truck.