Page 172 of Next to Everything We Wanted

“That’s the whole point, but okay.” I took the sunhat off and threw it onto my chair. It missed and hit the back of my chair, falling into the sand.

Mom, who clearly wasn’t invested in her trashy book, glared at me before picking it up.

“Is that better?” I asked Asher, wiping the sweat off my forehead from the hat. Gosh, I’d been dying in that thing. I should’ve grabbed a ballcap from my room instead.

“Much better,” Asher said as Dapper gave him the frisbee. He handed it to me. “You look alittleless miserable now.”

“Only a little?” I frowned. “How miserable do I usually look?”

“Like this.” Asher pouted his bottom lip, his brows furrowing.

I snorted so hard that snot nearly shot out my nose. “I look nothing like that!”

“You do!”

I rolled my eyes, throwing the frisbee to Dapper.

After I cooled down—well, as cool as I could get at a California beach at the end of July—I started having fun. A few unwanted thoughts plagued my mind, like how the last few visits at this beach had gone, but I pushed them away. For once, I felt a little like myself again.

While Dad drove us home, a white BMW trailed behind us. It looked familiar, so maybe it was someone who lived in our neighborhood. As it followed our exact route, copying every turn, worry sank into my stomach.

“What do you keep looking at?” Asher asked, turning in his seat.

“I think that car is following us.” I squinted to see if I could make out the person in the front seat. It looked like a guy in his twenties, wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap. Why was he wearingbothin the car?

Dad glanced at his mirrors. “They probably just live in the neighborhood,” he said, not an ounce of worry in his voice.

I leaned against my seat, trying to control the panic that coursed through my system. Someone couldn’t have recognized me while we were at the beach, right? I shivered as I thought about the times people had followed me when my disguise hadn’t worked. Thankfully, they were never dangerous—just teenage girls who wanted an autograph or a hug—but you could never be too sure.

When we turned into our neighborhood, I looked back to see if the car was still there. It was, trailing behind us at the same speed. My adrenaline kicked in, panic rising to my throat.

“He’s following us!” I shouted, causing my parents to jump in their seats. “I think he recognized me.”

Mom whipped around while Dad looked at his mirrors again. They exchanged a frown.

“I’m not sure if he’s following us,” Dad said, “but I’ll park in our rental’s driveway.” He turned left instead of going straight, parking into an empty rental’s driveway.

“Why don’t you believe me?” I asked. Did they think I was paranoid for no reason? “Just because no one has recognized me here before doesn’t mean it can’t happen!”

“We’re listening,” Mom said softly, reaching for my hand. “We just don’t want you to freak out?—”

“Gavin’s right!” Asher pointed to the back window, and when I whipped around, all the blood drained from my face. The white BMW parked behind us, having no shame in whatever they were trying to do.

Dad’s brows furrowed. “Okay, let me handle this.” He turned off the car and got out.

“D-Does Dad still have his gun?” I asked Mom, sweat pooling on my forehead.

“I’m not sure.” Mom rubbed her neck. “I hope this person is just visiting someone and got the wrong address.”

I clutched my stomach, which twisted into endless knots.Please be right.

Dad examined the car behind us as the driver opened the door. A guy, a few inches shorter than him, got out of the car. He wore a sweater and jeans—in this heat?—his skin completely covered.

Dad’s mouth moved, but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. The guy took his sunglasses off for a second, which caused Dad to laugh loud enough to make me jump.

Why was helaughing?

Dad opened his door. “It’s alright. We know him.”