The Last Song (37 page)

Marcus hadn’t tried to help her. He’d run away when she needed him, when she could have died.

Will didn’t care what might happen to him. He didn’t care what might happen to Scott. He was beyond that now. This time, Marcus
had gone too far. As he rounded the corner, he spotted them in the distance, seated on pieces of driftwood around a small
campfire.

Fire. Fireballs.
Blaze…

He sped up, steeling himself for what was coming next. He drew close enough to make out the empty beer bottles scattered around
the fire, but he knew that the darkness prevented them from seeing him.

Marcus was raising a bottle of beer to his lips as Will lowered his shoulder and slammed into him from the back, just below
his neck. He felt Marcus’s back whiplash under the impact, the only sound a painful gasp as Will drove him forward into the
sand.

Will knew he had to move quickly, in order to reach Teddy before he or his brother could react. The sight of Marcus suddenly
being driven to the ground seemed to paralyze them, though, and after Will drove a knee into Marcus’s back, he lunged toward
Teddy, his legs moving like pistons, driving him back over the driftwood. Will landed on top of Teddy, but instead of using
his fists, he reared back and slammed his forehead down onto Teddy’s nose.

He felt it crunch as it was flattened under the impact. Will rose quickly, ignoring the sight of Teddy rolling on the ground,
hands to his face and blood spurting between his fingers, his screams partially muffled by the sound of him gagging.

Lance was already on the move and charging as Will took one large step back, keeping his distance. Lance was almost on him
and going low when Will suddenly drove his knee upward, feeling as it connected with Lance’s face. Lance’s head whipped back
and he was unconscious before he hit the ground.

Two down, one to go.

By then, Marcus was staggering to his feet. He grabbed a piece of driftwood and backed away as Will moved forward. But the
last thing Will wanted was for Marcus to be able to position his feet before swinging. Will charged. Marcus swung the wood,
but the strike was weak and Will batted it aside before smashing into Marcus’s chest. He wrapped his arms around him, locking
them and lifting, using the momentum to drive Marcus back. It was a picture-perfect football tackle, and Marcus was slammed
onto his back.

Will brought his full weight down on top of Marcus, and as he’d done with Teddy, he head-butted Marcus as hard as he could.

He felt the same crunching of bone, but this time he didn’t stop there. Instead, he smashed Marcus with his fist. He hit him
again and again, giving in to the rage, unleashing his fury at the impotence he’d felt ever since the fire. He hit Marcus
in the ear, then hit his ear again. Marcus’s screams only enraged him further. He swung again, this time aiming for the nose
he’d already broken—when suddenly he felt someone seize his arm.

He turned, ready for Teddy, but it was Ronnie holding his arm, a terrified expression on her face.

“Stop! He’s not worth going to jail for!” she screamed. “Don’t ruin your life for him!”

He barely heard her, but he registered her tugging as she began trying to pull him off.

“Please, Will,” she said, her voice shaking. “You’re not like him. You have a future. Don’t throw it all away.”

As she gradually loosened her grip, he felt his energy drain away. He struggled to stand, the adrenaline leaving him shaky
and off balance. Ronnie slipped an arm around his waist, and they slowly began walking back to the truck.

The next morning, he went to work with his hand aching, only to find Scott waiting for him in the small locker room. As Scott
pulled up his coverall, he glared at Will before shrugging the one-piece over his shoulders.

“You didn’t have to quit the match,” he said, pulling up the zipper. “The paramedics were there the whole time.”

“I know,” Will said. “I wasn’t thinking. I’d seen them earlier, but I forgot. I’m sorry about having to forfeit the match.”

“Yeah, well, so am I,” Scott snapped. He reached for a rag and tucked it into his belt. “We could have won it all, but you
had to rush off to play hero.”

“Scott, man, she needed help—”

“Yeah? And why did it have to be you? Why couldn’t you wait for help? Why didn’t you call 911? Why did you have to haul her
off in your truck?”

“I told you—I forgot the paramedics were there. I thought it would take too long for an ambulance to arrive…”

Scott slammed his fist against the locker. “But you don’t even like her!” he shouted. “You don’t even know her anymore! Yeah,
if it was Ashley or Cassie or even Ronnie, I could understand it. Hell, if it was a stranger, I could understand it. But Blaze?
Blaze?
The same chick who’s gonna send your girlfriend to jail? The chick that hangs out with
Marcus
?” Scott took a step toward him. “Do you think for a second she would have done the same for you? If you were hurt and you
needed help? Not a chance!”

“It’s just a game,” Will objected, feeling his own anger begin to surface.

“To you!” Scott screamed. “To you it’s a game! But for you, everything’s a game! Don’t you get that? Because nothing matters
to you! You don’t need to win things like this, because even if you lose, you still get life handed to you on a silver platter!
But I needed this! It’s my
future
on the line, man!”

“Yeah, well, it was a girl’s
life
on the line,” Will lashed back. “And if you could stop being so self-centered for once, you’d see that saving someone’s life
is more important than your precious volleyball scholarship!”

Scott shook his head in disgust. “You’ve been my friend for a long time… but you know, it’s always been on your terms. Everything
has always been what
you
want.
You
want to break up with Ashley,
you
want to hang out with Ronnie,
you
want to blow off practice for weeks on end,
you
want to play hero. Well, you know what?
You
were wrong. I talked to the paramedics. They told me you were wrong. That by hauling her to the truck the way you did, you
might have made things worse. And what did you get? Did she thank you? No, of course she didn’t. And she won’t. But you’re
perfectly willing to screw a friend over because what
you
want to do is most important.”

Scott’s words were like blows to his stomach, but they only stoked his anger. “Get over yourself, Scott,” Will said. “This
time, it’s not all about you.”

“You owed me!” Scott screamed, slamming the locker again. “I asked for this one simple thing! You know how much it meant to
me!”

“I don’t owe you anything,” Will said with quiet fury. “I’ve been covering for you for the past eight months. I’m tired of
Marcus playing us. You need to do the right thing. You need to tell the truth. Things have changed.”

Will turned and strode to the door. As he pushed it open, he heard Scott behind him.

“What did you do?”

Will turned, holding the door half-open and meeting Scott’s gaze with steely intent. “Like I said, you need to tell the truth.”

He waited until Scott absorbed his words, then stepped out, letting the door slam shut behind him. As he made his way past
the cars on lifts, he could hear Scott calling after him.

“You want to ruin my life? You want me to go to jail for an accident? I’m not going to do that!”

Even as he neared the lobby, he could still hear Scott slamming his hand into the lockers.

R
onnie

T
he next week was tense for both of them. Ronnie wasn’t comfortable with the violence she’d seen Will display, nor was she
entirely comfortable with the way it had made her feel. She didn’t like fights, she didn’t like to see people get hurt, and
she knew that it rarely improved a situation. Yet she couldn’t force herself to be angry at Will for what he’d done. As much
as she didn’t want to condone what happened, watching Will completely
dismantle
the three of them made her feel just a bit safer when she was with him.

But Will was stressed. He was certain that Marcus would report what happened and that the police would come knocking at his
door any minute, but Ronnie sensed that something else was bothering him, something he wasn’t letting on. For some reason
he and Scott weren’t on speaking terms, and she wondered whether that had something to do with Will’s unease.

Then, of course, there was the family. Particularly Will’s mother. Ronnie had seen her twice since the wedding: once as she
waited in the truck at Will’s house while Will ran inside to pick up a clean shirt, and once at a restaurant in downtown Wilmington
when Will took her out. As they’d taken their seats, Susan had walked in with a group of her friends. Ronnie had a perfect
view of the entrance, but Will was facing in the other direction. On both occasions, Susan had pointedly turned her back to
Ronnie.

She hadn’t told Will about either incident. While Will was lost in his own world of retribution and worry, Ronnie noticed
that Susan seemed to believe Ronnie was somehow personally responsible for the tragedy that had befallen Blaze.

As she stood in her bedroom, she watched Will’s sleeping figure from a distance. He was curled up near the turtles’ nest;
because a few of the other nests had begun to hatch, they’d removed the cage this afternoon, and the nest was completely exposed.
Neither of them felt good about leaving it unattended for the night, and because Will was spending less and less time at home
anyway, he’d volunteered to watch it.

She didn’t want to think about their newfound troubles, but she found herself replaying all that had happened this summer.
She could barely remember the girl she’d been when she’d first arrived at the beach. And the summer wasn’t over yet; in a
couple of days, she’d turn eighteen, and after one last weekend together, Will would be leaving for college. Her next court
appearance was scheduled a few days after that, and then she’d have to go back to New York. So much already done and so much
left to do.

She shook her head. Who was she? And whose life was she leading? More than that, where would it take her?

These days, none of it and all of it felt real, more real than anything she’d known: her love for Will, her growing bond with
her father, the way her life had slowed down, so simply and completely. All of it sometimes seemed to be happening to someone
else, someone she was still getting to know. Never in a million years would she have considered the idea that a sleepy beach
town somewhere in the South would have been filled with so much more…
life
and
drama
than Manhattan.

Smiling, she had to admit that with a few exceptions, it hadn’t been all that bad, either. She was sleeping in a quiet bedroom
beside her brother, separated only by glass and sand from the young man she loved, a young man who loved her back. She wondered
whether there could be anything greater in life. And despite all that had happened, maybe because of it, she knew she would
never forget the summer they’d spent together, no matter what the future might bring.

Lying in bed, she began to drift off to sleep. Her last conscious thought was that there was more coming. Although that sensation
often foretold the worst, she knew that couldn’t be possible, not after all they’d been through.

In the morning, however, she awoke feeling anxious. As always, she was acutely conscious of the fact that another day had
passed, meaning one less day left with Will.

But as she lay there, trying to make sense of the unease she felt, she realized it wasn’t just that. Will was heading off
to college next week. Even Kayla was heading off to college. Yet she still had no idea what was coming for her. Yeah, she’d
turn eighteen, and yeah, she’d deal with whatever the court decided, but then what? Was she going to live with her mom forever?
Should she apply for a job at Starbucks? For an instant she flashed on a image of herself holding a shovel and following behind
elephants at the zoo.

It was the first time she’d confronted the future so directly. She’d always held to the breezy belief that everything would
turn out okay, no matter what she decided. And it would, she knew… for a while. But did she still want to be living with her
mom at nineteen? Or twenty-one? Or, God forbid, twenty-five?

And how on earth was someone supposed to earn enough on her own—and afford to live in Manhattan—without a college degree?

She didn’t know. All she knew for certain was that she wasn’t ready for the summer to end. She wasn’t ready to go back home.
She wasn’t ready to think about Will wandering the green quads at Vanderbilt, walking beside coeds in cheerleader outfits.
She didn’t want to think about any of it.

*     *     *

“Is everything okay? You’ve been kind of quiet,” Will said.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s just that I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

They were sitting at the pier, sharing bagels and coffee, which they’d picked up on the way. Usually the pier was crowded
with people fishing, but this morning they had the place to themselves. A nice surprise, considering he had the day off.