As I sat on the beach with Matthieu, I questioned myself and my motives for that night. Yes, this was fun. Yes, I would always remember this. No, this is not who I thought I would be.

Matthieu was really nice. Just nice. He spoke French and played soccer, which was pretty cool, I guess. Not my usual type, but I am not one to discriminate against the opposite sex.

This adventure required I lie straight to my mother's face. Even though I had mastered this throughout the years, a part of my gut tinged with guilt for every cover-up and deception. I told her that both of Isabelle's parents would be home (they would actually be in Hawaii) and we were only going to stay at her house. But in reality, it was 1:00 AM and I was sitting on a beach with a boy I barely knew. I feel like these types of lies are okay. I was protecting her, which she should be thankful for eventually. But I could see it in her eyes, she was too weak to hold me down. She knew I was being irresponsible. She knew I pretended to be carefree and not give a shit, but recently all I've wanted is to be her little girl again. Will she ever trust me again?

I guess I started tearing up, because Matthieu put his arm around me. It was sweet. I needed some companionship, I couldn't be a loner forever. "Thanks," I whispered. With a shy smile, he seemed to say "Of course," but with no actual words. He had a knack for that.

We sat there for probably about a minute and a half. The brisk air was being unbearably cold, but I was still okay. The waves were so continuous. They never needed to change, they just followed their own pattern. They had their low tides and high tides and everything else in between.

I don't know if I fell asleep or just spaced out, but I started to come back to reality when I heard thick footsteps and saw a small orb of light in my periphery. I knew this feeling too well: getting caught. My mind raced and I didn't even remember that Matthieu was beside me. This could be my chance to come clean and pay off my consequences. I would be in deep shit, but I could start over. No more lies, no more fakeness. I could tell this cop everything bad I had done that week, that month, that year. I could show my mom I wasn't a coward. I could show myself that I wasn't weak. Just as quickly as those revolutionary ideas came, I decided to stand up, grab his hand, and start running. I ran as fast as I could with him. I had to escape. I couldn't face confrontation or change. I wasn't ready. We were both out of breath and exhausted. I broke a sweat.

"That was absolutely insane," he said with an adoring conviction. If only he knew me. How scared I was. How much I couldn't handle who I had become. This wasn't me. I didn't want to run any longer.

"Let's go back home."