Rough Waters (14 page)

Once the ship sets sail, Emily white-knuckles
the metal bar that rests over her while Miles freaks her out every
two seconds by letting go and screaming, ‘no hands!’ A.J. throws
his head back laughing. Against the backdrop of a red sky, his
skeletonized face is that of a creepy monster in the night. The
wind rushes through my hair and over my skin, and for the first
time this summer, I feel free.

I almost wish the drive from Golden View back
to Crescent Cove didn’t have to end. I twist the shark’s tooth
bracelet around on my wrist while Emily and A.J. discuss the
pharaoh ride and how it wasn’t nearly as scary as she thought it
was going to be. Miles tells Topher to drive faster because he’s
hungry, which is inconceivable to me. He’s as solid and ripped as a
freaking Horn Island rock. I don’t even know where he puts all this
food.

“Fuck,” A.J. says. “I need to stop by
Drenaline. I left my keys there earlier when I went to open the
safe. Vin was at lunch. Can you run by there?”

“No prob,” Topher says. “Vin should be gone,
and I have door keys, so I can let us in. He may have fired me, but
he’s too damn stupid to take my keys away.”

He says something about washing the shark off
of his face before going home, so Vin won’t know that we missed Rob
Hodges’s seminar on board shaping. Emily insists on taking more
photos before he cleanses his evidence. So we all get out and go
inside for better lighting when we get to Drenaline Surf.

“Professionalism is definitely a priority for
us,” Vin’s voice echoes throughout the main room of the store. “I
make sure my staff and our surfers represent what Drenaline Surf
was created for.”

It’s too late to sneak back out. He looks
over, away from the man in the suit next to him, and sees us – the
butterfly, the lizard, the skeleton, the seahorse, and the shark.
The color drains from Vin’s face upon seeing the colors on ours. I
literally hear his face cringe, as if bones are snapping and
crunching.

“Um, well,” he says, looking back to the man
and his faded red tie. “Let me, uh, introduce you to some
people.”

Vin walks across the room with weighted legs,
just like I did when I had to meet Logan Riley. I bet Vin wishes
Logan was here now. He could represent all that professionalism
that I’m sure we don’t. The other guy follows him. A smile
decorates his face, like he’s humored by the situation. He doesn’t
look much older than Vin.

“From left to right,” Vin says, looking at
the floor instead of us. “Emily Black, my head cashier. Miles
Garrett, sponsored surfer. A.J. Gonzalez, my new manager. Haley
Sullivan, public relations. And Topher Brooks, my kid brother.”

“You have quite a colorful staff,” the man
jokes. “I’m Miller Brighton. I’m overseeing the construction
project for the new Drenaline Surf location. I was here to see the
layout of the store and see what kind of blueprints we could put
together for you guys.”

A.J. explains that he needs to grab his keys,
and we rush outside as quickly as we entered. Emily snaps a few
photos under the glow of the Strickland’s Boating sign before
Topher tells her we have to leave.

He cranks up my car and confirms Vin’s anger
in eight words. “Looks like I’m sleeping on Theo’s couch
tonight.”

“He knew better,” Emily says, punching
numbers into the register like I’m sure she’d like to punch her
boyfriend right now.

Her mood has made a one-eighty since the
carnival a few days ago. Her butterfly happiness has dissolved into
black magic, and it’s all aimed at Miles.

“I told him not to go out there. I told him
he’d get hurt, but he was all, ‘Nah babe, I’ve got this. I’ll be
fine.’ Right – he was fine all the way to the damn hospital,” she
says.

My first ‘damage control’ job for Drenaline
Surf is this weekend. Instead of babysitting Colby during the
Sunrise Valley Tournament, I have to help Miles carefully word how
he’ll answer his interview questions. There will be plenty of talk
about his broken leg, how it happened, and what this means for his
on-the-rise surf career. And according to Vin, he isn’t allowed to
admit the truth – which is that he was stupid, surfed in awful
conditions knowingly, slammed into the Horn Island rocks, and had
to be dragged out of the water by Kale and Topher.

“I am so pissed,” Emily says, forcing herself
to sit. She pops her knuckles. “This tournament was a chance for
him to actually show his surf skills, to prove that he deserved to
be sponsored by Drenaline Surf. There are a lot of haters who think
he shouldn’t have won that day. The entire surf world is scouting
at this event.”

“Maybe I can talk Vin into letting Topher go
instead,” I say. “He knows Topher would pay the money back for the
entry fee. Hell, I’d pay it for him out of my paycheck.”

Emily shakes her head. “Don’t bother. Vin
already called this morning and explained the situation. Logan’s
surfing on Miles’s entry fee, and Miles can’t say anything because
Drenaline Surf paid the fee.”

I prop my elbows on the counter and bury my
head into my hands. I wonder if the Sunrise Valley Tournament
accepts credit cards. My parents could pay Topher’s entry fee, but
I really don’t want the phone call from them questioning it.

“This sucks,” I say, stating the obvious.

“For real,” Emily says. “Miles is going to be
in that cast and on crutches for at least six weeks, if not longer
depending on how it heals. Then he’ll have to go through physical
therapy and training before he can even get back in the water. I
could kill him.”

I just nod instead of complaining because
she’s right. Miles is out of the water for a while. Topher’s just
out for this event.

Back at the condo, A.J. and Reed interrupt my
never-ending unpacking with text messages requesting my presence in
the living room. I gladly abandon the half-empty boxes for some
face time with my roomies. With Reed and A.J. working full time and
my hardly-ever-needed PR job, the only person I see regularly is
Alston, and he’s usually wrapped up in video games or surfing.

“What’s up?” I ask as I squeeze into the
corner of the couch next to A.J.

Reed and A.J. both smile at me and then look
at each other quizzically, like they don’t know who is going to
make the announcement.

“Okay, so, after A.J. got arrested, I got my
dad to do a little research,” Reed begins. He talks with his hands,
so he’s clearly excited about this. “One of the yacht club members
is a lawyer, so he looked over the paperwork, and the arrest wasn’t
legit, just as I assumed.”

“Because I didn’t do anything,” A.J. adds.
“Pittman hauled me in because he hates me. I didn’t break any laws,
and my record is sealed because I’m eighteen. So he had no
grounds.”

A.J. stands up and digs a wad of cash out of
his pocket. He straightens out the bills before he attempts to hand
it to me. I don’t take it.

“The charges were dropped. This is my bail
money, reimbursed,” he says. “Plus the fine they charged me.”

“And the money I had to pay to get my Jeep
back,” Reed says. “Topher paid us back already. He’s been pulling
extra hours at my dad’s store. But since we were reimbursed by the
city of Crescent Cove, we want you to take this and pay his entry
fee for Sunrise Valley.”

I don’t even know what to say. I blink away
the tears as A.J. forces the cash into my hand. It’s crazy how
something that really doesn’t affect me makes me feel like I just
won the surf world lottery.

“We’re both working that day,” A.J. says. “So
we need you to make sure he gets there. And make sure the fee gets
paid because the deadline is five o’clock tomorrow.”

I fold the money in my hand. “Why are you
guys doing this for him?” I ask.

Reed shrugs. “Vin doesn’t give him fair
treatment. If he was another Hooligan, he’d have already been
signed because he’s just that good. Vin’s playing the power card
because he doesn’t want his little brother to end up like Shark,
which I get, but it’s not going to keep Topher out of the
water.”

He’s right. There’s nothing in this world
that will keep Topher Brooks out of the water. And I’m going to
make sure he’s in the water at Sunrise Valley this weekend.

I wait in Alston’s passenger seat while he
goes into Crescent Cove Bakery. Reed normally handles the early
morning breakfast deal, but we’ve been here in the parking lot
waiting for the sign to flip over and say they’re open for fifteen
minutes. Our next stop is Sunrise Valley.

“You ready to road trip this thing?” he asks
when he gets back in the car. He sets two cups in the cup holders,
cranks up, and hands me the bag to sort out what’s what.

“Yeah, the sooner this money is out of my
possession and Topher’s entry fee is paid, the better I’ll feel,” I
say.

In all reality, I just want to get this over
with because I still don’t know what to talk about with Alston. At
least when we’re at the condo, he has video games to distract him.
Sometimes Kale comes over, and that definitely helps with the weird
silence. But this whole ‘stuck in a car alone with Alston for a
long drive’ bit is more than I know how to handle.

For the first ten minutes, we’re able to
manage the quiet by eating breakfast and listening to the swell
updates on the radio. I’m not an expert on surf conditions, but it
sounds like Sunrise Valley is going to have great waves for the
tournament.

“I’m glad Topher’s going to get to surf
there,” Alston says, turning down the volume. “Maybe we can finally
work some reverse psychology on Vin. I think if he sees someone
else eyeing Topher, he’ll sign him because he’s not going to want
anyone else controlling what his brother does.”

That’s what I’m hoping for. Vin’s smart, and
he may catch on, but maybe, just maybe, we can use his control
freak attitude against him and work it to our advantage – for
Topher’s sake.

“This is all Topher ever wanted,” Alston says
to the interstate instead of me. “And Shark wanted it too. He
wanted Topher surfing for him.”

I sip my frappe and glance out the window at
the endless ocean and string of palm trees. I sort of wish he’d
just turn the radio back up so I could pretend to give a damn about
the swells and local weather.

“Look, I’m trying here,” Alston says,
glancing away from the road for a second. “I can’t carry on a
conversation if you stare at the beach and ignore me.”

So I’m
not
the only one who’s lost for
conversation. It makes me laugh, which is at least some sort of
response. But I don’t say anything because I’d basically just be
agreeing with everything he just said and nodding along like an
idiot.

“Okay, fine,” Alston says, reaching for his
coffee. He takes a drink and sets it back in the cup holder. “Since
I’m driving, I figure you’re less likely to slap me for asking this
question. And since you don’t want to make small talk, I’m going to
ask it. Why haven’t you broken up with Vin yet?”

I take another sip of my frappe and secretly
hope it drowns me, since it’s said you can drown in a teaspoon of
water. After a few seconds, I realize it’s not going to happen, so
I set the cup down and rest my head back against the seat.

“I wish I had answer,” I say. “At first, I
thought he’d come to me and use the whole ‘this isn’t working out’
line, and I’d agree with him. But he never really talks to me at
all, so he hasn’t had an opportunity to say it.”

“So you don’t want to be the bad guy?” Alston
asks as if he’s my therapist.

I think everyone would understand and
probably even take my side if I broke up with Vin. Hell, Vin would
even take my side. He’d probably be relieved. I guess he thought I
was worth a try, but in the end, he isn’t cut out for
relationships. I just had to learn it the hard way.

“Honestly, I think the fact that it wouldn’t
bother him is what bothers me,” I admit. “We both know we’re over.
We’re just waiting for someone to do something about it. But I
can’t handle the thought of bringing it up and him just saying,
‘Okay, no problem,’ like it’s nothing.”

Alston nods but doesn’t say anything else for
a few moments. The gears in his brain turn, and I’m almost scared
to know what he’s going to ask next. I turn my attention back to
the blue water and crashing waves in the distance.

“Here’s my next question,” Alston says. “What
are you going to do when you actually do decide you want to date
someone else? Because I heard from a soon-to-be manager that his
head cashier is already planning double dates for when you make the
brother swap.”

I reach over and turn up the radio’s volume.
Alston laughs manically, but I absolutely refuse to have this
conversation. If Emily is conversing with A.J. about my love life,
there’s no telling who else is making assumptions and predictions.
Yes, I spend more time with Topher than I do Vin because Topher is
around and Vin never is.

I wish I’d never had to have left last
summer. I could’ve stayed right here, wrapped up in a world of
paper stars, blue seahorse spirits, and chasing dreams. This
summer, the stars are unaligned, my seahorse spirit is dead, and
any dreams I had have dissolved into the salty air. My relationship
has fizzled, Colby’s secrets are tabloid headlines, and there’s an
east coaster in the cove. How in the hell did everything fall apart
while I was trying to survive my senior year of high school and get
back to the west coast? And when did forever stop lasting?

The rest of our drive to Sunrise Valley was
less awkward. Alston apologized for the brother swap remark, and
then he asked about Linzi. I sort of wish she was here this summer.
I knew she wouldn’t be able to come back with me, but I miss her at
times. I miss her go-get-‘em attitude and her impulsive bravery. If
she was here, she could handle this Vin situation for me instead of
making me face the music myself. But she’s on the east coast, right
where I left her in North Carolina, waiting for fall so she can go
to college and move forward without me – just as I’m doing here
without her.