Love, Lucas (5 page)

“Maybe I’ll have my dad mail me some and you can look at it before it melts.” I grin and he smiles back.

“Here. These marshmallows are about done.” He moves the stick in front of me.

“Hold on a sec.” I break a graham cracker in half and put some chocolate on the bottom cracker.

“Ready?”

I nod and squish the marshmallow between my two crackers. I hold it for a second to make sure the chocolate melts a little. It’s no good when the chocolate is hard.

After waiting a moment or two, I take a bite. It’s delicious. Melted chocolate drips onto my wrist and I lick it off, trying to ignore the smile Carson’s giving me.

“You cooked this marshmallow to perfection. I’m impressed.”

He beams. “I told you I could roast a mean marshmallow.”

“Indeed you did.” I don’t like marshmallows plain, but I love toasted ones, especially on s’mores. They remind me of camping with my family. With Lucas. I stare at the fire, crackling and spitting in front of me, remembering how many times Lucas and I stayed up late, sitting around the campfire telling ghost stories and scaring the crap out of each other. We always had so much fun until we had to go to bed. Then I’d be up all night, twitching at the smallest sound outside. Lucas would be too, though he’d never admit it.

“Hey. You okay?”

I glance up to find Carson watching me. He looks concerned.

“I’m fine.” I take another bite and chew slowly, thinking about Lucas again.

Some guy walks by with a beer in hand and trips over the log we’re sitting on. He almost falls into the fire but Carson grabs him.

“Thanks, man,” he slurs and stumbles away.

I wonder why Carson doesn’t drink, but I’m reluctant to ask. I don’t like to pry.

“You’re wondering why I don’t drink, right?”

I stare at him. “How did you know?”

“Lucky guess.” He stares at the fire as he roasts another marshmallow for himself. “I got smashed at a party last summer and thought it would be a good idea to go surfing. At night.” He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “I almost drowned. I would have if someone hadn’t seen me go under.” He looks over at me and shrugs. “Haven’t touched alcohol since.”

I wouldn’t either.

One of the girls from earlier plops down on the other side of Carson and slips her arm through his. “Hey, Carson. Everyone’s going swimming. You comin’?”

He turns toward me and our eyes meet for a moment before he shakes his head. “I’m good.”

She laughs and nudges him with her shoulder. “Still worried about your foot? Or is it something else?” She smiles at me, but it’s anything but genuine.

“You can go,” I say, getting to my feet. “I’d better get back anyway.”

She smiles and I see her grip tighten on Carson’s arm. He stands quickly and her arm slips through his. She follows his lead and folds her arms, looking disappointed. She doesn’t take her eyes off me. They’re curious and probing. I don’t like it.

“You don’t have to go, Oakley. I’m not going swimming. I’ll just be supervising. I can use the company,” Carson says.

I really want to say yes, but I can’t get over how annoyed the girl looks, so I shake my head and give them my best smile. “Thanks, but I’m okay. Really. I’d better get back anyway. It’s getting late.” I glance at the girl. “It was nice to meet you.”

“You too,” she says sweetly.

“Thanks for the s’more, Carson. And for walking me over here.”

I turn to leave and feel a hand on my shoulder. “I can walk you home,” he says.

“It’s okay. I don’t want to keep you from your friends.”

“Oakley.” He looks disappointed and I feel bad, but it’s really not a big deal.

“I’m right across the street. I’ll be fine.”

“She’s right, Carson. She’ll be fine.” The girl grabs his arm and pulls him toward the water.

He shakes her off again and she folds her arms, waiting. Someone lets out a whoop and the sound of splashing fills the night. He glances behind him before looking at me again. “I really do want to walk you home, but I’m afraid I’m the designated lifeguard tonight.” He looks behind him again, unease filling his features. “I don’t want my friends getting into trouble. I probably shouldn’t leave them.”

“I totally understand.” He still looks disappointed, but I smile to reassure him.

“Okay. Can I see you tomorrow?”

He really wants to see me again? “Yes,” I say, a blush creeping in. I don’t mean to blurt it, it just happens. “Bye, Carson.”

“Be careful.”

I don’t answer, just nod and start back up the beach to Jo’s house. As much as I want to turn around to see what exactly they’re going to do, I don’t. I just keep walking. Back to Mom, who I’m sure is still mad at me. Back to another restless night full of bad memories that are impossible to forget. Back to reality. And my pathetic little bubble I now call my life.

CHAPTER 5

The first thing I see the next morning is Lucas’s notebook sitting on my bedside table. I grab for it and once it’s in my hands, I flip to page three and read my daily entry.

DEAR OAKLEY,

I KNOW THIS MAY COME AS A SHOCK, BUT ALL THOSE TIMES YOU’VE MADE ME WATCH THE VAMPIRE DIARIES WITH YOU? WELL, I SECRETLY LIKED IT . . .

TELL ANYONE AND I’LL HAUNT YOU FOREVER. FOR REAL.

I laugh out loud. I swear he hated that show. Every time I turned it on, he complained. But I guess he
did
watch it with me every week. And now that I think about it, he would ask a lot of questions when it was on.

AND PROMISE ME YOU WON’T BECOME ONE OF THOSE WEIRD FANGIRLS WHO CRY WHEN THEY SEE THE ACTORS ON TV AND STUFF. SERIOUSLY. YOU KNOW THE ONES I’M TALKING ABOUT . . .

MY ADVICE TODAY? GET OUT AND LEARN SOMETHING NEW. I’VE ALWAYS WANTED TO LEARN TO PLAY THE DRUMS. IS THAT RANDOM OR WHAT?

LOVE, LUCAS

I set the book aside and open the French doors, surprised to see clouds in the sky. I can smell the ocean mixed with rain. A smile creeps to my lips as the first drops start to fall. I hold my hand out and catch some of them in my palm. Rain always makes me happy—especially when it comes with lightning and thunder. I love a good storm.

I didn’t always though. Every time a thunderstorm came around when I was little, I’d run to my parents room, terrified, but Mom and Dad would always tell me everything was fine and to go back to sleep. I’d go back to my room and curl in a ball until the storm ended.

One night, during a really loud storm, Lucas found me huddled at the top of my bed. Even though I was seven, I still remember every detail. He grabbed my hand and took me into his room. After tucking me into his bed, he sat in his window seat and told me hilarious made-up stories until the storm died down.

It was something he did more times than I can count. Even this last year at the hospital when a bad thunderstorm hit, I curled up next to him in his bed as he twisted a fairy tale around about how Snow White and Cinderella had to duke it out over the handsome prince. The story was full of professional wrestling moves, a few of the seven dwarfs tag-teaming Cinderella, and field mice biting Snow White’s toes.

Even if his stories were bizarre, I could always count on him to make me laugh.

I take a deep breath before I step back inside and go find some breakfast.

Jo’s in the kitchen, buttering a piece of toast. When she sees me, she grabs two cups and fills both with orange juice.

“Thanks,” I say as she sets one on the counter in front of me. “Where’s my mom?”

She shrugs. “She’s already out and about. She said she had some things to do today and not to wait to eat.”

“Oh.” I frown. She usually tells me where she’s going. Weird.

Jo’s watching me, a look of concern mixed with sadness on her face. “You have fun last night?” she asks.

I shrug. “It was okay. Didn’t really know anyone.” Oh, and all the girls seem to hate me already. I decide not to mention that, though. I don’t want her to try to make the girls be friends with me. It seems like something she would do.

She nods and takes a sip of juice. “Any plans today?”

“No.” I grab a banana off the table and stick a piece of bread in the toaster. “Do you have any peanut butter?”

She laughs and shakes her head. “You’re just like your mom.” She gestures to the cupboard behind me. “She used to have it all the time when we were younger.” She wrinkles her nose. “Never understood why she liked it. I like them separate, but together? That’s nasty.”

“It’s the best,” I say with a shrug.

As I make my peanut butter and bananas on toast, we’re both quiet. Jo takes a seat and picks up the newspaper sitting on the table. She chews slowly while she reads.

I savor every bite of my toast. It reminds me of home.

“So, you really don’t have plans?”

I look up and shake my head. “Why? What’s up?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to come on the boat today. I’m going to check on some blue whales in Newport. They’re always fun to watch.”

“I’d love to!” I’m surprised at the excitement in my voice, but how could I not be excited to see real live whales?

“Great. Go get ready. Wear something light so you don’t overheat out there. And don’t forget sunscreen. With your light skin, you’ll fry.”

I shove the last bite of toast in my mouth and run to my room to change.

It takes fifteen minutes to drive to the harbor where Jo keeps her boat. There’s a long pier to my left with rows of docks extending out into the water. I can’t believe how many boats are tied to the docks. Too many to count. I wonder how Jo can even find her boat, but she does. It’s white and smallish but really nice.

“
Solo
?” I smile at the name etched on the side. “Is there a story behind this?”

She laughs. “I was gonna put Han on there first but then I wanted it to be more subtle.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Hey, just because I’m a beach girl doesn’t mean I can’t like
Star Wars
.”

I raise my hands in defense. “I wasn’t making fun, I swear.”

She chuckles. “You thought it. And please tell me you know who that is.”

Of course I do. Who doesn’t? “He shot first.”

She rustles my hair with her hand. “That’s my girl. Now hop inside. Let’s get out of here.”

I don’t even hesitate before climbing aboard, careful to keep my camera away from any water. I wait for her to detach
Solo
from the dock and then we’re off.

The sun is hot on my skin and it takes me a minute before I realize I forgot my sunscreen. Of course. Oh well. Hopefully Jo has some aloe for later.

The sky is still a little cloudy, but the water is calm and gorgeous as Jo sails us into the middle of nowhere. I admit I’m a little claustrophobic, or . . . I guess the opposite of claustrophobic, since I’m in a huge monster ocean with too much space. I pull out my cell, surprised to still have service, and look up the opposite of
claustrophobic
before I lose it.
Agoraphobic
pops up. Fear of open spaces? I think that works.

In spite of feeling really small and vulnerable in the huge ocean, it really is beautiful out here. Tranquil, peaceful. I could get used to this, I think. After I get over the whole agoraphobia thing. I lean against the side of the boat as my hair blows in the wind. Waves splash against the side and I feel a few drops on my arm.

“So, what kind of animals do you work with?” I ask Jo. I have to talk louder than normal since the boat engine is so loud. “You
do
work with animals, right?”

Jo looks back at me, the wind flying through her mess of curls. “I work with all kinds of sea mammals.” She slows the boat down a little and looks back at me. “I work at the Save Sea Life rehabilitation center. We rescue injured and sick seals, sea lions, and cetaceans.”

“Ceta-what?”

She must see the confusion on my face because she smiles. “Whales, dolphins, and porpoises.”

“Oh. I didn’t know they had a group name. For some reason I thought you swam with sharks and stuff. Or sat at a desk all day doing marine biology research.”

She laughs. “Nope. Although, I’ve been swimming with sharks a few times.”

“Was it scary?”

“Not really. I stayed pretty close to the surface and was very careful.”

I shiver. You couldn’t pay me a million dollars to do that. “So, what have you rescued lately?” I’m intrigued and impressed at how cool my aunt is for rescuing sea animals. Seriously. How many people can say that?

“Well, we rescued a few sea lions this month. And a dolphin that managed to beach herself. Our most interesting rescue was a baby gray whale a few years ago. We named her Mae. We searched the ocean for her mom for a few days, but never found her. Took us forever to beach her so we could get her the help she needed. I grew really attached to her. We had to transfer her to a different facility because of her size, so that was a hard day, but for the best. She’s doing great now. We’ve seen her every year since we released her back into the ocean.”

“Cool. Do you do anything else besides rescue?”

“We help make sure the mammals out in the ocean are thriving. Keep them safe from . . . well . . . us. Humans are the ultimate predator as far as sea life is concerned. Litter, oil spills. It’s pretty bad.”