Page 17 of Creeping Lily

LILY

T he sand shifts under my sneakers as I step onto the beach, the wind tangling strands of my hair around my face. Before I can even wave hello, Justin barrels toward me with a grin, scooping me off my feet in a bear hug that knocks the breath right out of me.

I laugh—half from surprise, half from the way he spins me like we’ve been apart for years, when in reality I saw him yesterday.

And the day before that. And the day before that.

Somewhere along the line, Justin Collins became the big brother I never knew I needed, the steady bridge between me and my best friend, Bethany.

“Put me down!” I squeal, tapping his shoulder as the dizziness sets in. He sets me back on my feet, still grinning like he’s gotten away with something.

“God, it’s like he adopted you and forgot he’s actually related to me,” Bethany mutters with a roll of her eyes.

Her smirk takes the sting out of her words, but I catch the truth beneath them.

Watching the two of them together is like peeking into a world I never got to have—a sibling who’s always in your corner, who knows you without you having to explain yourself.

The ache that thought brings is sharp. Other than my mother and grandmother, I’m on my own.

Justin’s hand slides through my hair in an absent, affectionate gesture, his fingers combing lightly through the strands as if it’s second nature.

Without thinking, I catch his wrist and hold it there, the warmth of his skin seeping into mine.

The moment feels simple and safe—until Bethany clears her throat. The spell breaks, and I let go.

On this campus, I’ve managed to make a few acquaintances, but no one holds a candle to Justin and Bethany.

Bethany, with her perfect hair and easy laugh, is what people call the It girl—always in the center of the spotlight.

Justin, though, was the one who dragged me out of my shell, who made it clear to anyone watching that I wasn’t to be messed with. With him around, I became untouchable.

“Pizza’s here!” Trick’s voice carries over the wind as he drops the boxes onto a makeshift table with a loud thump.

Patrick “Trick” McCordy doesn’t exactly hide the fact that he’s interested in me.

Sometimes I think I’m reading too much into it—maybe he’s just naturally that friendly.

Either way, I’ve kept my distance. I don’t want to blur lines or make things complicated, but avoiding him isn’t always easy.

This is college. You can’t hole yourself up forever without people talking, and having this little circle around me has been… good. A safety net.

Still, trust doesn’t come easy. It’s hard to give it when it’s already been broken—when the people you trusted most destroyed it in ways you can’t forget.

Trick’s gaze sweeps over me now, taking in my windbreaker zipped up over jeans and a T-shirt. The ocean breeze bites against our skin, sending my hair whipping around again. He runs a hand through his own waves, pushing them out of his eyes before flashing me a smile.

“Got your favorite,” he says with a wink as he flips open the boxes.

The smell of melted cheese and oregano mingles with the salt air.

He’s trying too hard again, like he always does, and I still don’t know how to shut him down gently.

I thought maybe he’d get the hint with time, but if anything, his persistence has only doubled.

Justin nudges my shoulder and leans in close, his voice dropping low. “When are you going to put the poor puppy out of his misery?”

I laugh, shoving him lightly as the others drift toward the table, each grabbing a slice before retreating into their own little huddles.

Our small circle feels like its own island, but the tension running through it is as real as the grit of sand between my fingers. Nobody says it aloud, but we all know the truth—Wendolyn has a massive crush on Trick. The problem is, his attention never leaves me.

She’s pretty in a delicate, pixie-like way, with sharp eyes that can cut glass, but her persistence has been her downfall.

These boys don’t like clingy, and she doesn’t seem to realize it.

If it weren’t for the fact she’s Marshall’s cousin—a guy in Justin’s tight-knit crew—she wouldn’t even be here.

Wendolyn finishes her slice, brushing sand off her pants, then turns to Trick. “Let’s go for a walk,” she says, her voice sugary but threaded with impatience.

He doesn’t even look at her. His eyes are on me as I try to fold myself into the sand and make my presence small.

“Trick,” she says again, sharper this time. Still nothing.

“Trick!” she snaps.

Finally, his gaze shifts, lazy and unbothered. I sigh quietly. Beside me, Justin pauses mid-chew, watching her like she’s a scene he can’t decide whether to laugh at or ignore. Bethany just rolls her eyes.

“I’ll go with you,” Marshall offers, standing .

“I asked Trick.”

“He’s still eating. I’ll go with.”

Her arms cross over her chest, lips tightening in irritation before she turns on her heel and storms off, Marshall trailing behind, murmuring something I don’t catch.

“You need to have a talk with her,” Bethany says, her eyes cutting toward Trick.

“She’s your friend,” he says.

“Not by choice. And it’s not my place. If you’re not interested, tell her.”

“I don’t even know what gave her the idea I am.”

“She’s staking her claim,” Justin says, his tone somewhere between amused and sympathetic. “Better let her down easy now before this gets ugly, brother.”

The ocean sprawls out before us, endless and unknowable, the waves hissing like they’re whispering secrets only they can keep. The sunlight glitters on the surface, too bright, too cheerful for the heaviness between Justin and me.

“You know he’s not going to just disappear,” Justin says finally, his voice low but certain, like he’s stating the outcome of a game I haven’t agreed to play.

I keep my eyes on the horizon, pretending his words are nothing but background noise. “Hmm?” My tone is light, dismissive. Sometimes pretending is easier than engaging.

“Patrick.” His voice is almost casual, but the weight under it is unmistakable—it’s a warning from a concerned friend.

“I’m not interested, Justin. I told him I had a boyfriend back home. I thought that would make things clear.”

He smirks, eyebrow raised. “You and I both know there’s no boyfriend. ”

I lift a finger to my lips, the gesture playful, like we’re keeping a shared secret. “It’s complicated,” I say with a small smile, though the truth isn’t complicated at all—it’s ugly, and it’s mine to keep.

He studies me, head tilted slightly, like he’s trying to figure out what’s hiding behind my walls. “He’s not a bad guy, Lily.”

“I know. But I’m not interested in a relationship with anyone. Not right now.”

The words settle between us, and for a moment, the only sound is the crash of the waves. He doesn’t look away from me, and his silence feels heavier than the question he hasn’t asked yet.

“Can I ask why?” His voice is softer now, but there’s a hook in it, reeling me in. “Guys are falling all over themselves for you. Trick especially.”

I let out a quiet laugh. “Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“It’s true,” he says, and the way he says it tells me he’s not just teasing. “You’re hard to ignore.”

A wave of discomfort flows through me. Some guys have looked at me like they’d like to keep me.

But those moments are fleeting—quick flares of interest that burn out before they can catch.

And when I think of Trick, there’s no spark at all—only a tightening in my chest and the faint churn of nausea.

The thought of him touching me, even in the most innocent way, feels like a weight I can’t carry.

“I’m here to get my degree, then I’m going home,” I say evenly. “I don’t have time for distractions.”

We round the curve of the shoreline, and that’s when I see them—Wendolyn and Marshall. Wendolyn’s gaze finds me instantly, and it’s like walking into a shadow even with the sun on my skin. There’s nothing friendly in her stare. It’s cold. Unblinking. Sharp enough to slice.

I give Marshall a polite smile, but I can’t hold her eyes. There’s a… weight in them, heavy and deliberate, like she’s pinning me in place without touching me. My chest tightens, and I look away quickly.

“She’s giving you a hard time,” Justin murmurs, his voice almost lost under the wind, but I hear the thread of sympathy in it.

“I can’t waste my energy on her,” I say, shaking my head. “Life was simpler when it was just me and Bethany. Wendolyn… she’s not healthy company to keep.”

Justin’s steps falter, and when I glance at him, there’s a frown pulling his features taut. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” I answer too quickly, but he doesn’t let it go.

Before I can step ahead, his hand closes around my arm—not rough, but steady and sure. I stop, meeting his eyes, and there’s nothing casual about the way he’s looking at me now.

“What did you mean, Lily?”

The question feels heavy. The truth wants to spill out, but it’s tangled up with something intangible. It’s not just her words or the way she acts—it’s the air around her. The way it feels colder when she’s close.

“Honestly, it’s stupid,” I mumble, eyes dropping to the sand.

“Tell me.” His voice is quiet but cuts straight through me.

I hesitate, and the pause is long enough for the ocean to crash three times before I answer. “She makes me… uncomfortable. She terrifies me. And I don’t scare easily.”

His brow tightens, and I expect him to laugh it off. But he doesn’t. His shoulders shift subtly, posture tightening like a rope pulled taut. “Like she could hurt you?”

I nod once. Small, but enough.

“She wouldn’t hurt you,” Justin says, but the disbelief in his voice isn’t for me—it’s for himself. He wants to believe it. But I can tell he doesn’t.

And maybe he shouldn’t. Because I know what I’ve felt .

That gaze of hers—it’s not annoyance. It’s not petty jealousy. It’s venom. Calculated. Intentional. The kind of look predators give prey before they decide when to strike.

And I’ve been around enough danger to know—people who make you feel that way don’t just go away. They wait for the right moment.