Rough Waters (12 page)

Vin pushes off the counter and walks toward
us. A.J. reaches for Topher to keep him from meeting his brother
halfway, but that Hooligan attitude shines through when Topher is
angry. A.J. lets him go. There’s no way Topher is going to back
down to Vin.

“Jake would roll over in his grave if he saw
how you were acting,” Vin says. “I’m not letting you drag his name
or my name or Drenaline Surf’s name through the mud any more than
you already have.”

Then Topher laughs. He shakes his head and
holds both hands up to halt his brother’s words.

“Your argument is invalid,” Topher says, as
calmly and snarky as Vin did just moments ago.

It’s insane how, at moments like this, when
they’re at each other’s throats – literally – you can see how much
of each other they have in themselves.

“In case you don’t remember,” Topher says,
walking a half circle around Vin, “Jake McAllister doesn’t have a
grave to roll over in. You see, he was cremated. Then there was
this big paddle out where pretty much everyone from Horn Island and
Crescent Cove paddled out into the ocean, and we talked about Shark
and how much we loved him and how amazing he was. And then Joe
poured his son into the sea, where he belonged.”

Vin doesn’t say a word. I’m not sure if he’s
breathing. Or if I’m breathing. Is anyone breathing? Theo, where
are you when we need you?

“Oh, no, that’s right,” Topher says. “You
wouldn’t remember all of that because you wouldn’t go out there
with us. You wouldn’t attend your own best friend’s memorial. No,
you just stood on the fucking pier! And that,
big brother
,
is what I call irony!”

Topher instantly turns and bolts out the
front door of Drenaline Surf.

I don’t argue when Reed wraps his arm around
me and tells me that we’re going home.

It’s been a week since the Brooks brothers’
explosion in the middle of Drenaline Surf. I’ve avoided the store
at all costs, which sucks since I’m supposed to technically be
employed there as Damage Control Girl. A.J. and Emily both took Vin
up on his job offer, so I’ve seen very little of both of them. Reed
got Topher hired on at Strickland’s Boating, so I’m usually stuck
at home or roaming around Crescent Cove with Alston during the day.
But today, I made plans.

Dexter runs across the sand, barking loudly
and announcing my arrival before I even get out of my car. Colby
finally got around to replying to my text messages, so I set up a
lunch date. Well, sort of – if picking up take-out and meeting him
at his house can count for a lunch date.

“Thank God,” Colby says when he slides the
back patio door open. “I’m starving.”

“Nice to see you too,” I say, pushing Dexter
back with my flip flop.

“Sorry,” Colby says as he takes the bags from
me and sets them on the kitchen counter. “Aside from that trip with
Vin, I haven’t been out of this house other than to surf since
Dominic’s party. That wasn’t exactly my finest hour.”

No kidding. I’m not sure if he knows I was
there that night. I’m honestly not even sure what all he actually
remembers and what he’s just seen in photographs. I decide, just in
case, to spare his pride and keep my mouth shut. I wouldn’t want to
relive that night if I were him.

He digs through the plastic bag from Isaiah’s
Pizzeria and Pasta like he hasn’t eaten in months. He grabs a
bottle of water and motions for me to follow him into his living
room. SurfTube streams on his flat screen.

“I’m surprised you wanted something with so
many carbs,” I say, digging into my pasta dish. I guess he thinks
that bottled water avenges the meal.

“Something had to give,” he says, stuffing
his fork into his mouth. “I’m sick of organic food, and I needed a
taste of the real world. I’ll work off the carbs tomorrow.”

We don’t say much as we eat and watch the
footage on SurfTube, which is much more fascinating to Colby than
it is to me. I wonder if it’s safe to rock the boat and ask about
his parents. He seems to be in a pretty good mood. In fact, he
seems to be a bit…happy?

“You look good,” I say, instantly realizing
how that came out.

“Well, thank you,” he says, smirk on his
face. “I’ve been told a few times that I’m a pretty sexy
beast.”

“Not like that,” I say, even though he
definitely is attractive. “You look happier, more…clear-minded. Or
are you just in zen mode, as Vin calls it?”

He shakes his head and sips from his water
bottle before speaking. “Things are just different now, you know? I
never thought I’d be so relieved that the secrets and lies were
out, but it’s like I can finally breathe again,” he says. “I
haven’t felt this good in years.”

He cleans the empty food bins off of the
coffee table, and I follow him into the kitchen. Even though I’ve
been here a few times, I’ve never really taken the place in. I walk
over to his refrigerator and look at the few photos he has tucked
under magnets. The one that catches my eye first is a photo of him
with Shark.

I pull the picture out from under the crab
magnet to examine just how freaking happy and excited they both
look. It was taken on a boat, a yacht maybe. Colby wears expensive
sunglasses, and Shark holds a fishing pole. The ocean stretches
forever behind them, beyond the boat.

“We rented one of the yachts from Reed’s
dad’s store,” Colby says, looking across the kitchen at me. “Reed
actually went with us. He took that picture. Topher was behind him
shouting out orders to ‘look like this is the best day of your
life.’ It feels like that was twenty years ago.”

I slide the photo back under the magnet. I
feel like the world was a different place before Shark’s death.
Colby was a different person back then. He wasn’t jaded and locked
away behind a thousand lies. He was still that dreamer I saw in
him. I also feel like there’s so much I don’t know about the
Hooligans and my roommates. I never would’ve imagined Reed or
Topher hanging out with Colby Taylor – or each other.

“Sometimes, I wish with everything in me that
I could’ve known him,” I say, staring at Shark’s picture. “I feel
like I missed out on something really big.”

Colby’s shadow closes in on me from behind.
He stares at his refrigerator, looking at Shark for a bit too long
before he says anything.

“He would’ve liked you,” he says. “You
would’ve fit right into his world. And you probably would’ve dated
him instead of Vin. Shark was everything that you thought Vin was
last summer, except Shark was the real deal and he loved the surf
world and everything that goes with it. He never would’ve signed
Logan Riley either.”

Colby walks back toward his living room and
finds a seat on the couch. I follow and decide to go in for the
kill. As much as I’d love to hear about Shark and debate theories
about what the guys’ lives were like before his death, I have to
know what’s going on in Colby’s world
now
.

“How was your trip with Vin?” I ask, sitting
next to him.

He shrugs. “Photographers were cool. They’re
driving down later this month to shoot a free surf session with me.
They seemed really excited about it. No mention of the coffee table
incident that’s on the Wall of Shame,” he says.

He laughs at the reference before continuing.
“I considered it a win. Of course, your boyfriend thought it was a
pointless meeting because the main photographer is just an intern
with no connections to sell photos and ‘Who would want surf photos
of you anyway? They’re more concerned with what you’re doing out of
the water.’ Vin’s words, not mine.”

I think I’m growing to hate my own boyfriend.
Colby can bounce back from this. Celebrities do it all the time. He
just needs to step up his surf game, stay out of the tabloids, and
get his headspace right. Colby can be exactly who he was when he
walked into Drenaline Surf a few years ago. He can be the person
Shark knew he was. I just wish Vin would be onboard with it.

“Any update on your parents?” I ask, deciding
not to give my thoughts on Vin’s attitude.

Colby heaves a long sigh before getting up
and walking over to the entertainment center. He comes back to the
couch with a large envelope.

“I’ve been served,” he says. “They’re suing
me for emotional damage, lawyer fees, private investigator fees,
reimbursement for search efforts, and fraud. How in the fuck can
they sue me for fraud? They basically want everything I have, as
well as a public admission of my wrongdoings with an apology.”

I scan the documents, but all the legal
jargon makes zero sense to me. “What do you plan to do?” I ask.

He takes the papers back and sticks them in
the envelope. “I was actually going to talk to Vin about it on our
drive home the other day,” he says. “But he was such a smartass
about everything, all of his rude comments. He’d probably side with
my parents. I think I may be better off getting a lawyer on my own
and seeing what I should do about it.”

I don’t want to ask the next question. Even
after I confessed to Colby about what I’d heard that night at
Crescent Inn, I still don’t like to talk about it. “What about
Drenaline Surf? Did they say anything about Shark’s estate?”

He shakes his head. “No, thank God,” he says.
“Not yet anyway.”

And that’s what scares me most.

I rush into Strickland’s Boating fifteen
minutes after I leave Colby’s. I’m bursting to tell Reed the new
lawsuit information, but upon seeing Topher behind the counter, I
stop and bury my panic deep within myself. Topher was supposed to
get off work thirty minutes ago. Why is he still here when I need
to freak out to Reed?

Topher rushes around the counter toward me.
It’s sort of crazy to see him in khakis and the Strickland’s
Boating polo shirt. He looks much more professional than he ever
did when he still worked at Drenaline Surf. He cleans up as well as
Reed does.

“I need your help,” he says. “I finally went
back home because I got tired of crashing on Jace and Theo’s couch,
but Vin’s being all parental on me and not letting me go anywhere
other than work.”

“And this requires my help how?” I ask as we
walk back toward where Reed stands near the counter.

Reed shrugs when I try to tell him with my
eyes to get rid of Topher. I need him to go surf or hang out with
Miles or something right now. I can’t hold this lawsuit info in for
very long, and I definitely can’t let it slip into Hooligan
territory.

“There’s this convention tomorrow,” Topher
says. “It’s about board shaping and choosing the right surfboards.
I might learn something. Rob Hodges is the main speaker. Theo’s
going because you know, he always wanted to be a board shaper, and
I figured that’d be enough to convince my brother, but Theo isn’t
the best influence. Or so Vin says.”

So I’m supposed to convince Vin that Theo’s a
good influence? Or that Topher should be allowed to go because he’s
trying to help his future career? I don’t have the influence I used
to have on Vin. That lasted for about two weeks last summer. The
moment I drove out of Crescent Cove, all of my power left with me.
Apparently, I forgot to bring it back.

“Who is Rob Hodges?” I ask, before I dive
into all of the other million questions I want to ask. I need to
know this guy’s stats before I present my case.

“Retired pro surfer,” Reed answers instead of
Topher. “He’s one of the best board shapers in the USA. He actually
went to high school with Joe. You have to book months ahead of time
to get an appointment with him.”

Topher nods along, wide-eyed and serious.
“And if a pro surfer wants a board from him, he backlists everyone
else. It doesn’t matter if you’ve been waiting a year. The famous
guys always come first. I want a Rob Hodges board someday.”

As much as I don’t care to listen to a
retired surfer talk about surfboard thickness, I figure it’ll give
me something to do. Maybe I need to remind Vin of the public
relations job he said I could have. Colby has to have some kind of
upcoming event. Or Miles. I’m sure Miles needs an agent or manager
or something.

“Okay, we’ll talk to Vin. I’ll offer to go
along,” I surrender.

“Now,” Topher says. “I’d rather catch him at
the store than at home. I went back because I missed my bed, but
things still aren’t good between us. He’s more likely to cave in if
I ask him while he’s working.”

I tell Topher to go catch Vin before he
leaves and that I’m on my way. Reed asks if I have any new
information on Colby’s situation. He texts Alston and A.J. to make
sure they’ll be at home tonight so we can discuss it. I bail
immediately after because I know Topher will be back if I’m not
inside of Drenaline Surf in the next thirty seconds. That boy has
no patience.

“Haley said she’d go with me,” Topher says as
soon as I walk in the door. “I mean, you hired her to help manage
Colby’s image. You can think of this as her managing my image. She
won’t let me do anything stupid.”

Vin stands behind the counter with A.J. at
his side. He looks unimpressed with Topher’s case, which shoots my
confidence straight into the ground. He can’t control Topher
forever. It’s a godforsaken surf convention. He should be thankful
his little brother isn’t out partying and drinking and screwing any
chick he can find like most guys his age. Vin gives Topher no
credit, and it’s starting to seriously piss me off.

“I’ll go too,” A.J. volunteers. “I don’t want
to get arrested again, so you know I’ll keep him straight. Between
Haley and me, we’ve got this.”

Oh God. There’s no way Vin is going to let
Topher go anywhere with us. We’re just blue lights waiting to
happen. Maybe I should volunteer Reed to go along too, for good
measure.

“Fine,” Vin says. “Just go. I don’t feel like
arguing with you.”

He turns away, goes into the back office, and
shuts the door behind him. I swear, he lives in that damn office.
The walls have sucked his soul completely out of his body.