Chapter Eight

Ding dong.

The doorbell rang again.

Lulu perked up like a puppy hearing the word walk. She gasped and clapped her hands. “Yayyy!!! Let the most interesting day begin!”

She turned to me with a grin. “Come on!”

We rushed downstairs just as the front door swung open and a chorus of voices filled the hall.

Ava walked in first, all bright smiles and bold eyeliner. Her hair was in space buns today, and she wore a neon green bikini top under a mesh shirt that made it clear she wasn’t afraid of standing out.

Serena followed, cool as always in a red halter top, gold hoops, and loose beige pants that swayed when she moved. She tossed her dark hair over her shoulder like she was in a music video.

Then came Gavin and Chris—both tall, loud, and grinning like this was their birthday party. Gavin high-fived Matisse as he passed him in the hallway, and Chris whistled when he saw Lulu. “Someone’s glowing today.”

Lulu beamed. “Aren’t I always?”

Ava waved at me. “Hey, girl!”

“Hey,” I said, smiling back. Okay, I was nervous, but I was also excited. This was the kind of day I’d always imagined being part of—fun, spontaneous, and chaotic in a good way.

Lulu grabbed her keys again. “Alright, girls in my car. Boys, figure yourselves out.”

She, Ava, Serena, and I walked out to her convertible—yes, convertible, of course she had one—and piled in. Lulu slid on her sunglasses like she was born doing it.

“Seatbelts, witches,” she joked.

Behind us, Matisse carried a cooler to his own car, Gavin and Chris following with towels and a Bluetooth speaker. Matisse looked back once, eyes flicking over me again—neutral this time. No smirk, no comment. But somehow, that made it worse.

I turned quickly, pretending to listen to Serena talk about which playlist to use.

And then there was Mufasa.

He swaggered out last, like the main act showing up late to his own show. Still in those black shades, still glued to Lisa, who was now fixing her lipstick in the side mirror of his car—a sleek black Range Rover with tinted windows.

He didn’t talk to any of us. He didn’t even look our way.

Which was fine. Totally fine.

But that didn’t stop me from noticing how even his silence seemed loud—like he thought he was above the rest of us. His girlfriend slid into the passenger seat like a queen taking her throne, and Mufasa got in after her without a word.

God, he was so annoying.

He revved the engine before pulling off ahead of us, like it was a race no one else knew they were in.

Lulu rolled her eyes. “He’s always like that.”

Serena laughed. “It’s giving main character syndrome.”

Ava leaned forward and asked, “So, Lia… you ready for your first real day in this town?”

I smiled nervously, the wind already tugging at my hair.

“Let’s find out.”

And just like that, the cars pulled out, one after another, music already blasting, sunscreen already being passed around, and the feeling in my chest shifting from nerves to anticipation.

An hour later, the salty wind hit our faces as Lulu’s car finally rolled up to the beach. The sun shimmered off the water, and the sound of waves crashing mingled with laughter and music already blasting from someone’s speaker.

We weren’t the only ones there.

A few guys were already stretched out on towels, tossing a football or chugging from soda cans. I didn’t know their names, but from the way Matisse and Mufasa greeted them with daps and grins, they were clearly part of the same crowd—maybe even tighter than I realized.

Lulu pulled into a spot like she owned the beach, cut the engine, and hopped out with a dramatic stretch.

“Sun, sea, and skin, baby,” she sang, skipping ahead and claiming a spot on the sand.

She dropped her beach bag, kicked off her sandals, and spread out a huge pink mat. In one smooth motion, she slid down her denim shorts, leaving only her white bikini, which clung to her like it was made for her body alone.

Ava and Serena followed, stripping down to their bikinis effortlessly. Ava’s was the neon green one from earlier, paired with matching sunglasses. Serena had a maroon two-piece with gold rings at the hips. Both girls looked like they were born to tan under the sun.

“Come on, Lia!” Lulu called out, patting the mat. “Join us!”

I hesitated.

The wind tugged at my hoodie, the one I’d kept on like a security blanket all morning. I stood awkwardly, feeling everyone’s energy around me—wild, free, bold.

Then I remembered the bikini I’d borrowed. It was simple—black, nothing flashy—but still… it showed more skin than I’d ever shown in public. My fingers trembled slightly as I pulled the hoodie over my head.

The sun hit my bare skin, warm and sudden.

“Yesss!” Ava said with a grin. “She’s free!”

Serena clapped. “Welcome to the world, baby!”

I smiled shyly and walked over, sitting beside them, trying to relax into the moment. It wasn’t easy—my body felt stiff, like I was still fighting something I couldn’t name. But I was trying. Really trying.

Just as I leaned back on my arms and closed my eyes for a moment, I felt it.

Hands.

Strong, rough hands.

They grabbed my upper arm—tight—so tight it made me wince.

“What the—” I started, twisting around.

It was Mufasa.

His expression was dark. Serious. Not playful. Not sarcastic. Not even cruel—just cold and sharp like a warning.

He yanked me to the side, pulling me a few feet away from the others. I stumbled behind him, heart slamming against my ribs. The grip he had on me wasn’t just firm—it hurt. I knew it would bruise.

“Mufasa, what the hell—let go!” I snapped, trying to pry his fingers off me.

But he didn’t.

His body was tense, eyes narrowed as he scanned me up and down like he was seeing something I didn’t even realize was there.

Then his voice came—low, commanding, a growl that cut through the noise around us.

“Cover your neck. Now.”

I froze.

Four words.

Four exact words I’d heard before. So many times.

From my aunt.

From Aunt May, every time we left the house.

“Cover your neck now.”

Like it was a matter of life and death.

How…?

“How do you know about that?” I breathed, heart stalling in my chest.

Mufasa didn’t answer.

He just stared, jaw locked, still not letting go of my arm.

I struggled harder. “Let me go, Mufasa! You’re hurting me!”

He didn’t budge.

Didn’t blink.

And the scariest part?

He didn’t look angry.

He looked like he was protecting something.

Or maybe… someone.

Me?

No.

That couldn’t be.

Right?

Still, those words echoed in my skull like thunder:

Cover your neck now.