"Could this day get any fucking worse?"

After Ryan had dropped me home and I had begged him to just give me space, I ended up wandering around town, feeling like a lost puppy. The house had been too quiet. It happened a lot since mum's disappearance. Dad would be off somewhere, getting shit-faced and I'd be sitting alone in the dark, trying to stop my mind from ticking.

To make matters worse, I'd just dropped the overpriced ice cream I had bought from Geo Gelato. It splattered against the pier, already melting into the hard concrete beneath me. I hated spending money on food and this was just proving my point. I loved spending the small amount that I made on things I could keep, like nicknacks or clothes. It didn't bother me much if I had to live off baked beans, as long as my money was being spent on things I loved.

"Fuck," I whisper, sidestepping the sticky icecream and trudging further down the pier.

A few people were milling around, mostly those who were mooring their yachts. A handful of kids were laughing, running along the pier, their parents chasing after them. How I missed the days when things were so much more simple.

I park myself on the bench facing the ocean, watching the sun begin to peak down on the horizon. Multiple yachts and houseboats from New River's elite sit idling in the water, swaying slightly with the waves. Further down I can see Lucas Winter's yacht. The music pounding from his parent's docked yacht could only be coming from a party. Otherwise, no one in their right mind should be listening to shitty music like that for no apparent reason.

My phone buzzes and I reach into my denim cut-offs. It's a text from Ryan, checking up on me. The fifth time in the space of an hour. I knew he was just being protective but I just needed some space to think over what happened today.

I hadn't yet told anyone about Marcus Wainwright, except for Ryan on the drive home. The words had come spewing out of me and I couldn't control them. Ryan has assured me that he would go and beat Marcus's ass if I allowed it but that was the opposite of what I wanted. Besides, I didn't know if Ryan would come out alive.

I was sure that Ryan was with my friends now, telling them what happened. I preferred that actually. At least that way I wouldn't have to keep reliving the moment by explaining it to them myself.

The sun dips lower, hiding behind the small yacht lapsing in front of me. I try to focus on the beauty of tonight, but Marcus's words keep ringing in my ear.

What had he meant by me pissing a lot of people off? I'd hardly spoken to anyone about what I was doing this summer. Who could he have been talking about?

Even worse, he had threatened me. I had expected to go in there and get some answers, not walk out with even more questions. I guess I had just been lucky so far. Everything had been smooth sailing until I'd hit an iceberg. Now I was sinking in questions.

Did I need to be worried? Was someone out to get me now?

A shiver runs down my spine and I wrap the light cardigan I'm wearing around me. It doesn't stop the goosebumps from rising on my arms.

The music increases on Lucas's stupid yacht and I turn to glare at it, annoyed that he was ruining my scenic, peaceful moment.

Ah, fuck, who was I kidding? How could anything be peaceful when I was giving myself a headache by overthinking everything? But what if I wasn't overthinking everything? What if—

"Just shut the fuck up," I say. I turn back to make sure that no one is behind me, thinking I'm some lunatic for talking to myself.

I watch as Lucas appears on his yacht, swaying on his feet. He was clearly drunk and it was barely 6 pm. I guess when you're rich and don't need to work, there isn't a lot of things to do in a small town like New River.

I suppress a laugh when Lucas trips, steadying himself on the outdoor setting kept on the back of the boat. Although it's impossible for him to hear me from the distance, he looks right in my direction nonetheless. He swings his arms in the air, yelling something not quite audible from a drunk person.

"What are you saying, Winter?" I shout back, cupping my hands over my mouth. "You're a wanker? I already knew that!"

I only catch a few words when he replies. Something about being a bitch and loser but the rest I miss. His shouting clearly gets the attention of someone from inside, because moments later, the sliding glass doors are opening and outsteps another person.

His hair is obscuring his face but I know without a doubt that it's Rhys. His tall frame leans against the outside of the boat as he watches Lucas shouting drunk slurs at me. He crosses his arms over his chest, watching the distant exchange. I watch as his eyes flicker towards mine for the first time. He straightens, pushing himself off the wall. He grabs Lucas by the shoulder, turning him around to face him.

Everything he says in completely inaudible but I lean forward regardless, interested in what is going on.

Lucas staggers to the side as Rhys pushes him back towards the sliding doors and inside. When Rhys closes the doors behind Lucas, the music dulls down the slightest amount. My thoughts start to creep back in.

My eyes follow Rhys as he moves around the boat, turning back to face me. He gives me a small half-wave, in which I nod my head in acknowledgment. I lean my arms against my side, kicking my feet back-and-forth under the bench.

My attention is drawn towards my phone when it buzzes again. I pull it out begrudgingly, expecting it to be Ryan. Instead, it's from my dad.

Wjat I thwe

I'm not surprised that it makes absolutely no sense. He did this a lot when he was drunk out of his mind. I always wondered if he was actually trying to tell me something or if all the letters were completely meaningless.

My hand clenches around my phone as unexpected tears gather in the corners of my eyes.

"You lost?"

I jump, my hands flying to my chest as I glare up at the culprit standing in front of me. Rhys cocks his head to the side, smirking down at me.

"What the hell?" I snap. "You could have given me a heart attack."

"I can't help the fact that I can make your heart stop," he grins.

"Oh my god," I groan. "You did not just say that," I pretend to gag, sticking my fingers down my throat.

"I did," his grin widens, the wind picking up a few wisps of his hair.

"Please leave me alone," I sigh. "I really don't need you to annoy me right now."

He invites himself to sit down next to me, completely ignoring what I've said entirely. I stare at him, wondering what on earth he thought he was doing.

"Having fun?" he questions.

"I should be asking you that. How much do you get paid for being Winter's babysitter?"

He grunts, tipping his head back to look up at the sky. I watch him in my periphery as his eyes flicker to view the stars.

"How did you even get over here that fast, Edward Cullen?"

"Edward who now?" Rhys stares back at me, frowning.

"Don't pretend you don't know who that is," I scoff.

"I thought you already worked out that I have a serious lack of a film and television education," he smiles, resting his arm against the back of the chair.

"How'd you know it was a movie?" I smirk. "I never said anything about it being a movie."

He shrugs, "lucky guess."

"You've totally watched Twilight. Shut up, Laderman."

"Make me, Cadigan," he taunts. "Huh, I just realised out names kinda rhyme."

He's close enough to me that I could count his eyelashes. It was so unfair that guys had better lashes than girls. It was such a waste too. Imagine never having to put mascara on and having those lashes.

"You're staring," he states, sounding smug.

"Eyelashes," I murmur.

"Come again?"

"I was admiring your lashes," I admit. I don't know why I even say it but it's out there before I can take it back.

"Well, I can't say a girl has ever said that before," he laughs. "Usually it's something along the lines of I love your face or—"

"You're cockier than usual tonight," I cross my arms over my chest. "Been on a bit of a bender with Lucas today?"

"For your information, I have not touched an ounce of liquor today. I'm just high on summer, Cadigan. High on life."

"Okay, you've seriously lost it," I stare at him dubiously, wondering why he was in such a good mood. "Shouldn't you be scampering back to your trust-fund buddies by now?"

He stands suddenly, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his shorts. "Seeing as you're such a loner tonight—"

"I am not—"

"Come on," he moves his head towards Lucas's yacht, indicating for me to follow him to the dock. He begins to walk off, turning away from me. I don't move to get up.

"I think I'd rather cut off my own leg," I scoff. "What makes you think I'd ever get on a boat with Lucas Winter? Or really any of you?"

Rhys brings a hand to his chest, faining hurt. "Free food?"

After the day I had, the idea really, really appealed to me. But being with Rhys? Ryan's voice echoed in the back of my head like a siren. I knew if he found out he'd just about pop a blood vessel.

But, when have I ever done anything Ryan wanted?

"What are you standing around for? Lead the way, Laderman."

If I'd said at the start of the summer that I'd be on a boat with the richest, a-hole boys in my school, I would have literally punched myself in the face.

Yet, here I was.

I cringe at the volume of music on the boat. I can feel the entire thing rocking from the beat, reverberating up through my entire body. I follow Rhys up to the top deck, climbing the stairs. A group of boys have lined up some type of white powder, taking in turns to snort it. I look away in disgust.

"So that's what you do, huh? That's what you waste your money on?"

Rhys hands me a beer can, looking over my shoulder to stare at the boys behind me. "Some of us, sure."

He leads me further away from them, his hand on the small of my back. We sit opposite each other, legs tucked under our chins as we watch the dark water lapse against the boat.

"Do you? Do drugs I mean," I question, my voice wavering slightly.

"Would it bother you if I did?" he says, curious.

For some reason, it would. If Rhys agreed that he was like them, a trust-fund druggie, I'd feel sick. I hated that I cared at all.

"It's your life," I shrug, opening the beer. "Do whatever you want with it. I mean, you have the money."

He sighs, wracking a hand through his hair. "I don't," he clears his throat, "Not now, anyway."

"Used to then?" I swallow.

"Once," he whispers, frowning. "With the boys."

"Did they force you into it?" I inadvertently snap.

He shakes his head, smiling softly at me. "I am capable of making my own decisions you know."

"You sound like you regret it, though," I acknowledge.

"Yeah," he croaks. "Last summer. We've never been friends, Cora, but I'm not the same person I was."

Rhys had always been Rhys to me. I'd never seen anything different in him. He was always overshadowed by the fact that he was friends with people like Lucas. I'd never been able to see past that. Maybe that was a bad thing but it was just how it was. He was rich, I was pretty much poor. Our lives were too different to be anything else.

"So you haven't since then?"

"No," he says instantly. "It scared the shit out of me. That lack of control. That feeling that you aren't in charge of your own body. I was off my head, outta my mind. I could have done anything that night and it fucking scared me."

It felt weird having a heart-to-heart with Rhys Laderman. He was the last person on earth I ever thought would be opening up to me.

"I hate drugs," I say, detached. "I hate alcohol just as much, really. I try not to drink too much in a night. I know what it does to people."

Rhys watches me, his fingers playing with the condensation dripping down his beer can. "What were you doing out on the pier alone tonight?"

This conversation wasn't something I wanted to have. I'd been able to forget Marcus and his words for almost an hour. Now everything resurfaces, consuming me entirely.

"I just...never mind," I say curtly.

"It's all good if you don't wanna talk," he says, docile. "We haven't exactly ever been friends. This summer has definitely been fucking weird, that's for sure."

"Well, I never thought I'd be on Lucas Winter's boat. That is for sure," I laugh, leaning my head against the seat.

"Can't say I ever thought I'd be talking to Cora Cadigan on the back of my best friend's yacht either. But here we are."

I start to laugh uncontrollably, unable to stop. It's a weird sensation to feel light and free when everything seems to be crashing down around me. Rhys's comment hadn't even been that funny but I was at the point where it didn't matter.

"You good, Cora?"

I sigh, indignant. "I had a day from hell. Some shit happened that I can't stop thinking about."

"Bad shit?"

"Bad shit," I nod, glumly.

"I—"

Before Rhys can finish, a crash sounds from below us. He straightens in alert, gripping the rail and hanging over to see what the problem is. "For fuck's sake," he grits out.

"What's wrong?"

A verbal argument breaks out and I neal on the bench, looking over the railing next to him. I spot Lucas, Dale and Carter arcing up with some guys I don't think I recognise. It's clearly a tense situation, with the three boys trying to get the other people off the boat.

"Party crashers," Rhys's hands are fisted at his sides, clenching and unclenching. "Fuck, I'll be right back. Stay here."

"What? Rhys—"

"I've gotta stop the boys from fighting them. I gotta call whoever is on duty at the station tonight," he's already walking off down the stairs.

I hang over the railing to watch the exchange nervously, biting my lip. There were four boys that I didn't recognise in total. They looked like they wanted trouble, plain and simple.

Rhys touches Lucas's shoulder, talking deeply, leaning close to his ear. He shrugs Rhys off, stepping closer to the guy opposite him. Dale and Carter were already getting in their faces, pushing them back towards the dock.

"Cora Cadigan, well look at you."

I spin around. Dylan Macintyre, a guy who graduated from my school last year, stands over me. He wipes his nose and I realise he's been up here the whole time, snorting coke with his buddies.

"Uh...hi?" I say, dismissively, turning back to the railing. I expect Dylan to walk off but he sits down next to me, too close for my liking.

"Didn't expect to see someone like you around here."

I ignore him completely, hoping he'll get the hint and leave me the fuck alone. Unfortunately, he does not.

"Wanna join?" he shrills, grinning at me. His pupils are so dilated that his eyes look entirely black.

"I'd rather keep all my brain cells, thanks very much," I deadpan, scooting away from him.

"Come on, don't be a bitch," he says sourly, reaching out for my arm.

"No means no, Dylan. Or did you fail to learn that when you flunked in school?"

Okay, maybe sometimes I should learn to shut up. Keep quiet. But honestly, that just wasn't in my personality.

"What did you just say?" he seethes, his face inches from mine. I can feel his breath against my face, his nose brushing my cheek.

I recoil, my back pressing into the railing. The metal digs into my shoulder, but I welcome the pain over Dylan being close to me.

"Get off me, Dylan," I say, sternly. "I'll fucking scream if you don't."

"You fucking asked for it," his strident tone sends a shiver down my spine. I stare straight into his eyes, glaring.

"I asked for it?" I snap. "The only thing I asked for was for you to get the fuck off me."

I shove at his chest. Because he's high and he wasn't expecting it, he stumbles back, falling off the bench. I stand up quickly, rushing towards the railing.

Before I make it, Dylan barges straight into me, pinning me against the side railing of the boat. I look back, the dark ocean beneath me.

"Get off me," I snarl, bringing my knees up into his crouch. He doubles over, groaning in pain.

"Serves you right, asshole. No means fucking no," I grate.

I rush down the steps and Dylan follows after me, limping now. "You fucking—"

"This guy annoying you?" Rhys's voice booms from nowhere. His intense gaze stares right at me. He stands partially in front of me, watching Dylan breathing heavily. His eyes aren't able to focus.

I look over and notice that the guys who'd crashed were gone. Lucas, Dale and Carter were watching in amusement as Rhys intervened. Dale catches me looking and sends me a wink. I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest.

"That little bitch—"

"Watch your mouth, Dylan," Rhys says harshly, his fists clenching.

"She was fucking asking for it man. She wanted my coke," he smirks, "And she definitely want my coc—"

Before he can finish, Rhys grabs him by the shoulders pinning him against the wall behind them. "You better shut up now and get the fuck off this boat before I make you."

Dylan begins to laugh eerily, sending a shiver down my spine. "She your girl or something, Laderman? I ain't ever seen you get so protective over some bitch. Especially someone below your standard. Or is that it? Is she blowing your—"

"I said," Rhys grits out, "shut the fuck up."

Everything next happens so quickly. Dylan swings at Rhys but misses, sending him off balance. He stumbles to the side but regains his balance, grabbing Rhys around the middle and sending them flying across the boat. They smash straight into the table,