3 - "I need your help"

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"You're asking him tonight?"

New River is known for its party lifestyle during the summer. Our population is small, but when the weather starts getting warmer, all the holiday-makers arrive.

The water laps at my feet whilst Tea speaks to me. I've abandoned my shoes somewhere up the bank and probably won't be able to find them again later.

"Yep. Tonight," I say, sternly.

"I like your commitment. Are you sure about this, though?" Teagan bites nervously on her lip.

"I don't have a choice," I defend. "Rhys is my last option."

"I'm on your side here, CeCe. I just want you to be sure."

"I am," I promise, nodding.

The wind picks up, blowing my hair across my face. The waves crash to the shore, the sound steadying my beating heart.

"Ryan is still—"

"Screw Ryan," I snap. I wrap my arms around my midsection, looking away from Teagan.

"You still love him," Tea softens, leaning her head against my shoulder.

"Not like that, I don't. I love him as my best friend, but I also hate him with a passion."

"You don't have to deny it with me," Teagan whispers. "I know how hurt you were the other night at the cafe. I know you wish he would have agreed with your plan."

"Of course I was hurt!" I sigh. "But I should have known his ego would get in the way."

"He's stubborn, but so are you," Teagan chides. "That's why you were perfect for each other."

"No, we weren't. He's perfect for himself."

"I—"

"Enough about Ry," I sigh. "He's still being all grumpy and I don't want to talk to him right now. Tonight, it's all about operation Rhys Laderman."

I turn away from Tea, searching the shore. It isn't hard to spot Rhys. He's sitting with his loud, obnoxious friends.

"You're just gonna walk up to him?"

I don't answer her, but I do exactly as she has says.

People may think that I'm confident on the outside, but inside, I'm shaking like a leaf. I don't want to look vulnerable in front of Rhys. I don't want him to see that I need his help so badly.

I shake out my hands as I approach him. Lucas eyes me warily as I approach, whispering something to Carter.

"Cora Cadigan. I must say, you are looking fine tonight," Dale whistles, taking a swig from his beer. He eyes me up and down and I gag in disgust.

"Eat shit, Bellview."

Dale grunts, kicking his feet in the sand. "What the fuck you want then?"

"Can I talk to you?" I block out everyone else, staring at Rhys. He looks up, raising an eyebrow.

"Why?" he questions.

I sigh, gesturing with my head for him to follow me. I turn away, wrapping my arms around myself.

I know he's following me when his friends begin to snicker, making snide comments. I hate rich boys. Entitlement just rolls off them like they own the world.

I stop roughly a hundred metres away from his friends sitting around the bonfire. I don't want the rest of them to hear what I have to say. No doubt Rhys will go back and tell his buddies, but still, I want to protect my vulnerability somehow.

I meet his eyes as he stares down at me, confusion etched into his expression.

"I need your help," I blurt, tightening my arms around myself.

I don't like asking for help. Not from anyone. My independence is one thing I want to preserve.

"Come again?" he laughs. "You on crack, Cadigan?"

"No," I snap, glaring at him.

I hate that Ryan's stupid voice is echoing in my head, telling me Rhys is a jerk.

"Okay, then you're drunk," he nods to himself.

"Fuck off, Rhys. I'm trying to have a serious conversation with you."

"You know how to have those?" he jokes, a cocky grin plastered on his lips.

"Shut up, ass," I mutter under my breath, clenching my toes in the sand.

His bemused expression only makes my blood boil. This douche thinks this is funny?

"I'm being serious, Rhys," I whisper sternly, my eyes downcast.

His easy-going grin all but vanishes as he sips from his beer. "Spill it, Cadigan."

"I need your help."

"So you've established al—"

"Shut up and listen."

He zips his lips, pretending to throw away the key over his shoulder.

"I need your help to find my mother."

His expression falters, turning blank. He swallows, searching my eyes like he's trying to find the answer written within them.

"You're going to have to say that again. I could have sworn you just asked me to help you find your runaway mother who's been gone for five years."

I fight the urge to snap at him. I hate when people in this stupid town believe that crap.

My mother wouldn't have left me just like that. She may not have always been the most reliable, but I know what she is capable of. I know she isn't capable of leaving her family stranded.

"I did," I speak, catching his eyes.

He takes a step towards me, invading my personal space. Our eyes are almost level. "What's going on here, Cora?"

"I told you," I whisper, "I need you to help me."

"How? Look, no offence, but what the fuck am I supposed to do? Your mother left five years ago."

"You have access to...things."

"Access? I have— oh no. No way. Fuck no, Cadigan. I am not—"

"Hear me out, alright?"

He quietens down, despite his sceptical look.

"I know I can't offer you much in return that you don't already own," I snide. "But...I need your help, Rhys. This...this is important to me."

Out of all the rich kids that go to my school, Rhys has always been quieter, more reserved. He's harder to crack than the others. Harder to understand. I'm never sure if he's being rude and obnoxious, or just a follower.

"You want to use me for my dad, right? Get access to police files? Do you even hear yourself?" he snaps. "Not only is it highly illegal, but did you not stop to realise that my dad would kill me?"

"He wouldn't have to find out."

He laughs, frustrated. He rakes a hand through his hair, tugging at the brown ends. "I thought you were smarter than that, Cora."

"He wouldn't!" I protest. "No one would find out. We could be careful."

"Careful? Breaking into a police station? Damn, you really must be insane."

"Maybe I am, Rhys," I jab at his chest, pushing him back. "But it's only because I'm going fucking crazy trying to know what happened to my mum."

"She left you, Cora. She skipped town. Why can't you see that?"

I recoil from him, my heart lurching.

"Fucking asshole," my voice cracks. "You know nothing about my mother."

He sighs, scrubbing his face. "Look, I didn't mean—"

"Yes, you did. Don't fucking change your opinion now. I'd just hoped that maybe you'd be different. Guess I was wrong."

Rhys stares at me, his hair blowing softly in the wind. "We hardly know each other."

"We've been going to school together for almost thirteen years, Rhys. I know enough."

"We don't really know each other," he whispers, shaking his head.

"You're just a walking contradiction, aren't you? Five seconds ago you told me my mum must have run off, yet you stand here now, telling me that we hardly know anything about each other? Screw you."

"I don't understand what you want from me exactly. You think I would be willing to risk getting my assed kicked by my father just to let you, someone who I've never had a pleasant conversation with, break into the police station?"

When he puts it like that, I feel stupid. My plan is beginning to crack; looking fragile at best.

"Even if I wanted to, do you know how impossible it would be? How much planning it would take?"

"It wouldn't matter," I shake my head, briefly closing my eyes. "I've already waited five years for the truth. What's a little longer?"

We both fall silent, watching each other. I wait for him to say something; anything.

"Look, I wish I was the person who could help. But I'm not. Sorry," he shrugs, beginning to turn away from me.

"Coward," I mumble, clenching my fists.

His shoulders tense as he turns to me, eyes ablaze. "I don't get you," he snaps. "You've always been such a bitch to me, yet you expect me to drop everything and give you the world?"

"I'm not a bitch," I defend, glaring at him.

"To me you are."

"Well, you're a dick."

"Why?" he laughs. "Because my parents worked hard and we have a comfortable life? It wasn't always like that for them, you know."

I shrug. "You're still a dick who hangs out with bigger assholes."

"So you hate me by association?"

"You're all the same."

His eyes soften suddenly, saddening almost. "You have such a limited mindset, Cadigan. Can't you see how much more to this world there is?"

With his words of fucking wisdom, Rhys walks off, back to his stupid friends.

What was I supposed to do now?

A stray tear falls down my cheek and I wipe it away in frustration, turning to face the sea.

I have no plan. I have no fucking plan and I've already wasted a week of my summer.

Rhys is a dead end. It's clear he isn't willing to help me. A part of me understands, of course. If I was in his position, would I help him? Probably not.

My summer is slowly slipping through my fingers and if I don't think of something soon, my mum will remain a memory.

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