The Girl of Sand & Fog (23 page)

BOOK: The Girl of Sand & Fog
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Everyone laughs.

“It’s legal once you kiss her,” Jack counters.

My dad runs his thumbs along my mom’s face. It’s
like he can’t see anything but her. “I just want to stare at you for a little
while. Let me.”

Chrissie’s face is consumed by her smile. “No, I
want to be kissed. Kiss me fast since we’re not married until you kiss me.”

They laugh and they’re kissing and then the
intense hush on the cliffs above the beach in my grandpa’s backyard is
shattered by applause, laughter, and moving guests.

Chrissie steps back, laughing. “Holy crap. We did
it, Alan.”

Bobby leans in to me. “You OK?”

I nod. I don’t know what I feel. The entire
ceremony passed as sort of a slow-moving film in front of me, and still I
couldn’t keep up with everything roiling through me.

It’s just so freaking weird. Tears fill my eyes
out of nowhere. Why am I crying? Maybe it’s just because my mom looks so happy.
Alan does, too. Maybe it’s just inescapable to get emotional at a wedding, even
a wedding as bizarre and confusing as this. Linda has been Niagara Falls since
it started and she’s the least emotional woman I know.

Bobby stands up and holds out his hand to me.
“Come on, Kaley. Everyone is moving to the tent.”

I snap out of my thoughts.

Oh crap, we’re the only ones left sitting on the
chairs facing the cliffs, and I didn’t go give my mom a hug or something at the
end of the ceremony and I probably should have.

The inside of the tent is a crush of bodies by
the time we get there.

“There’s a buffet,” Bobby says quietly. “Do you
want something to eat?”

I exhale. “I’m not hungry.”

He does a cute little pucker of his brows. “Do
you mind if I eat? I didn’t get a chance to grab anything this morning and I’m
pretty sure I’m going to need my energy later.”

“You are, are you?” I tease, trying to match his
lighthearted mood but I know I’m failing at that.

He smiles, his expression sweet. “You may not be
here with me, but I’m here with you. Hopefully you arrive soon. You look so
beautiful today. It’s going to be torture keeping my hands off you during the
reception.”

My cheeks flush.

Message received, Bobby.

I’m behaving pathetically. My parents got
married. No big deal. My self-absorption and emotional botheration needs to
end. He wants me to focus on him.

I peek up at Bobby. “Instead of waiting for me to
arrive, maybe you should whisk me away from this shindig.”

Bobby laughs. “Shindig?”

“I thought I should use a word appropriate for
how you’re dressed.”

His eyes twinkle. “You don’t like it?”

My brows hitch up. “Oh, I definitely like. We
need to clean you up more often. Very sexy. Very hot in that suit.”

“Sexy enough that you might want to slip away now
and find somewhere to be alone?”

I can feel my eyes grow sparkly and I lean into
him. “I’d love it, but I think we should wait until the party really gets going
so no one notices us cutting out. I don’t want Mom getting all butt-hurt
today.”

He takes my hand. “Then come on. I’m going to
eat. You’re going to eat. We’re going to sit through the toasts. Dance. And the
second the happy couple takes off, we’re going somewhere so I can get out of
this suit.”

I hold my lower lip between my teeth, gnawing on
it a few times. “Out of the suit, huh? I kind of like you in it.”

“You’ll like it better when it’s off,” he
whispers, his lips close to my ear. “It’s been a week, Kaley.”

I pout. “Not my fault. And I hated being on
lockdown.”

He kisses my nose. “Then don’t get grounded
again.”

“We’re at Grandpa Jack’s. I’m on temporary
parole.” I grin salaciously. “And I know just the place to go when we slip out
of here.”

“Oh, thank you.” His body shudders against me.

Laughing, I take his hand and cut through the
people toward the buffet.

Eight hours later, the reception is raging. Mom
and Alan are still at the party which makes it pretty much no bueno to
disappear.

I sway on the dance floor, clutched against
Bobby, our bodies barely moving, and we’re both beyond ready to be out of here.

Jeez, why aren’t the newlyweds out of here?

“If we don’t find someplace private soon,” Bobby
whispers, “I’m going to explode.”

I giggle. “Me, too.”

I rapidly scan the room. “Follow me. No one
important is by the exit. We’re busting out of here.”

He grins, very happy, and I flush and grab his
hand. Once we’re outside, we both start to laugh.

“Grandpa Jack has a pool house.”

“I knew there was something I liked about Jack.”

In a few seconds we’re alone, kneeling on the
bed, rapidly undressing each other. His hands run down my hips, then my legs,
closing around my ankles and giving me a tug until I’m flat on my back.

He puts on a condom, covers me with his body and
presses his mouth over mind as he sinks himself deep inside me. I convulse as
he pumps into me, gloriously wet between my thighs even though we
fast-forwarded past foreplay and went directly to fucking.

Seeing Bobby nude and ready; yep, that was enough
to get me on fire before he even touched me.

“Bobby…ah…ah..,” I cry as he sinks into me faster
and faster.

I wrap my legs around his hips and he scoops my
butt from the bed, up and into his hard thrusts. I’m close, so close, and I can
tell by the tension across his back and the twitching of his arms that he is,
too.

“Open your eyes, Kaley. Watch what you do to me.”

My lids flutter wide.

That’s it.

I come apart, staring at him, jaw tense as he
spills into me. He collapses down on me and we’re both laughing. He turns us
until we’re on our backs.

He kisses my forehead. “We could have done that
hours ago. We would have been back at the party before anyone noticed us gone.”

I kiss his chest.

He groans. “I don’t want to go back to the ’Sades
tonight without you.”

I lean up and stare down at him. “It’s so stupid
that I have to stay here with the rest of the kids while Mom and Alan are off
on their honeymoon. I should be able to be home alone if I want to.”

He brushes the hair back from my face. “We’ll
figure something out. Another week without seeing you. Nope, not doing it.”

My eyes widen. “Ask Grandpa Jack if you can stay.
He’d probably love it. You can surf with him.”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I
already did. About an hour into the reception. The answer was
hell no
.”

 

*  *  *

 

An
hour later, we slip quietly back into the tent. My face falls. Mom and Alan are
gone. I missed it.

For some reason my glowing mood deserts me.

“Do you want to stay at the party?” Bobby asks.
“It doesn’t look like it’s winding down anytime soon.”

I shake my head. “No, can we go walk on the beach
for a while before you have to leave?”

“Sure. Whatever you want.” He smiles. “And I’m
not leaving until Jack throws me out.”

I make a small laugh and he drapes his arm around
my shoulders. We turn and head for the steps built into the cliffs.

Bobby pauses at the top, staring down at the
beach. “I think this is a bust, Kaley. I’m pretty sure that’s security at the
bottom blocking access to shoreline.”

“Yep, put them there myself, just to keep you two
out of trouble,” teases a voice from behind me.

I whirl to see Grandpa Jack sitting on a chaise.

I roll my eyes. “Very funny, Poppy.”

He grins. “I’m getting old. I need help.
Something tells me I’m definitely going to have to be on my game this week.”

I flush, but Bobby laughs.

Jack’s magnificent eyes gleam. He points at the
lounger next to him. “Come sit with your grandfather and talk for a while. I
didn’t get two moments alone with you in there, Kaley.”

I stop Bobby with a hand on his arm. “Whatever
you do, don’t go for a walk alone with him,” I whisper fiercely into his ear.

Bobby frowns, amused. “Why? I like Jack.”

“Don’t do it.” I give him a wide-eyed, intense
stare before we step back from the cliffs.

We settle on the vacant chair beside Jack, me in
the V of Bobby’s legs, leaning back into his chest with his arms around me.

“It was pretty cool that you were able to become
a licensed justice of the peace so you could marry them,” Bobby says.

Jack smiles. “You kids aren’t the only ones who
know how to make the most of the Internet.” And then his gaze shifts to me. “You
can find just about anything online these days.”

My body covers in prickles.

Oh crap, why does it feels like Jack knows about
my blog, my websites and my
Kaley’s World
videos? Even Bobby doesn’t
know about
Kaley’s World
and I fully intend to keep it that way.

“You doing OK, baby girl?”

“Sure, Poppy. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Jack shakes his head in that
I’m not buying it
way he has.

“Your mom marrying again. Not exactly a small
life change for you. It would be understandable if you weren’t doing completely
well with this.”

He says it so quietly that I almost miss it and
then it shoots through my body at once, what he’s saying beyond the words, and
how he’s trying to be there for me without betraying my mother.

“You forget, I’ve lived with Alan before. This
change is a repeat.”

Jack’s blue eyes meet mine directly. “Nothing in
life is a repeat. Not this moment. Not the next. You don’t have to pretend it’s
nothing to you if it is.”

“I’m not pretending anything,” I exclaim,
irritation slipping into my voice.

Jack nods, his lips scrunched up together, his
chin moving out just a touch in that way he sometimes has with me that I know
means he wants to say more and won’t.

Jack stares at the ocean. “Even with the best
map, Kaley, you’ll still find unexpected roads. I have. Your mom has. Alan has,
and you and Bobby won’t be any different. The trick is to travel the ones you
should and avoid the ones that will hurt you. But sometimes you can’t tell the
difference, you go too far down a road, and end up lost and not knowing how to
turn around. No matter how hard we all try to pick the right road, we all at
times go the wrong way.”

I study him trying to figure out where he’s going
with this and why now.

“Are you saying that’s what my mother did?” I
ask. “Picked a wrong road and doesn’t know how to turn around? It looks to me
like she just did a giant U-turn today.”

Jack lapses into silence. My body grows tauter
and tauter as I wait to see if he’ll stop with the euphemisms, acknowledge
outright what I just asked, and talk to me straight.

His blue eyes meet mine directly. “I’m saying
that for the most part your life has been a pretty nice road. A few bumps here
and there, but always surrounded by people who love you. Neil loved you and was
a good father. Jesse loved you and was a fantastic stepfather. And Alan has
loved you every minute of your life. Isn’t that the most important thing? Looks
to me like you’ve been a pretty lucky girl.”

“Have I?”

Jack smiles. “Without a doubt. It doesn’t matter
if your life isn’t exactly how you think it should be or even hoped it would
be. If it’s good, it’s good. And I’ll take that over everything else, baby
girl, any day of the week.”

I stare down at my clasped hands, frantically
sorting through everything he’s trying to tell me without saying it, and trying
to escape the unwanted pricks of hurt.

Bobby’s hands move soothingly up and down my
arms. “I think we’ll go back to the party, Jack.”

Jack’s eyes shift to Bobby. “I’ve always liked
you. You’re a nice, kid. Respectful. But the pool house is closed until further
notice. Remember, son, you can either be a man or a fuck-up, and no one can
make you a fuck-up unless you’re willing.”

A tense quiet surrounds us.

I stare, stunned.

Oh God, did Grandpa Jack really just slip in the
don’t
be a fuck-up
speech on top of everything else that went down out here?

“I’ll remember that, sir,” Bobby says as he
stands.

Jack nods. “Good. And maybe you can come back
during the week and we can do some surfing. Pool house is closed, but you are
welcome here always, Bobby, so long as we understand each other.”

 

 

CHAPTER 22

 

Two
months later

 

The
audio-visual lab door opens and Bobby crosses the room and settles on the edge
of the desk beside me.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

I continue to edit my video and don’t look up. “I
can’t. I’ve got to finish cutting this short and get it turned in today or I
get a zero on my midterm grade and then I have to be at OCD in half an hour.”

He fixes me in a disbelieving stare. “OCD? You
got dentation the last day of school before spring break?”

“Uh-huh. And my free bonus gift is I think Mr.
Jamison e-mailed Chrissie because she texted me like right after and I have to
go straight home after detention so we’re not going to have any time together
before you take off to Palm Springs with the guys this weekend. Groovy, huh?”

He lets out a slow breath. “What’d you do this
time?”

For some reason I’m a little irritated with that.
I make a face at him. “I didn’t do anything. Natasha and her posse strike
again. Filled my locker with a wonderful collection of scintillating tabloid
tidbits about my family and when I opened the door they all fell to the floor.
And of course they were all watching and whooped it up over the whole thing.
And I’m the one who got written up for bullying for giving them the finger
while I was on the floor cleaning up their mess.”

He gives me a sympathetic grimace, his head
tilting to one side just enough to making him look really adorable and totally
forgiven for the earlier flash of criticism. “You’ve got to be kidding. They
wrote you up for bullying for giving Natasha Blackburn the finger?”

“Yep. Mr. Jamison was in the hallway, saw the
entire thing, but the second I gave those girls the finger it was
‘Miss
Stanton, principal’s office
.’”

He shakes his head. “Unbelievable. It’s just not
right. Did you try to explain that you weren’t the instigator?”

I click save on the edited film and slouch back
in my chair. “Nope. It wouldn’t have mattered and it doesn’t matter how many
freaking pink slips I get. I got my acceptance e-mail to USC today during fifth
period, we’re out of here next month, and I’m never looking back, Bobby.”

“You got into film school? Why didn’t you tell
me?”

“I’m telling you now.”

He takes my hands, guides me onto my feet, and
eases me between the V of his legs. “That’s incredible. I’m so proud of you,
Kaley.”

“So you see I don’t really give a fuck what any
of them do to me anymore. I’ve got my guy. I’ve got my film program and I’m out
of here next month forever.”

He doesn’t laugh. He frowns instead. “If that’s
how you feel, how come you’re in OCD again? Why not just let Natasha’s bullshit
roll off your back? I know all the ink about your family sucks for you but it’s
all bullshit so why can’t you ignore it?”

“I know that the shit in the tabloids about Mom
and Alan is just that. Shit. Nothing new, Bobby. I’ve been reading crud about
Alan, crud about Mom, crud about my family in print as long as I can remember.
I’m surprised there isn’t an article in the rag sheets claiming Chrissie had
sex with a Martian and all five of us kids are green aliens. So stupid, I’ve
lived this movie before and it’s no big deal.
That
part of it I do
ignore.”

He studies my face. “OK, then how come you keep
ending up in OCD? This is your ninth time in April alone.”

“If I had known Natasha could be such a malicious
bitch I would have never called her a ‘twat’ the first month of school. She’s
positively relentless like those monsters that die in horror films but keep on
coming back. I don’t care what she does to me, she knows it, so now she’s
bullying Zoe and no way am I backing down with that crap going on.”

His jaw drops. “You’ve got to be kidding me?”

I stare up at him. “Nope. And don’t tell Jake.
Zoe doesn’t want anyone to know. She’s so embarrassed. They stuff Zoe’s locker
with little notes about Jake and photoshopped pictures of her that are just
awful. I know it was them. They’ve been posting some really cruel things on their
pages. Harassing her in group texts. They are all-out cyberbullying her just
because she’s my friend. Zoe pretends it doesn’t bother her, but she’s a mess
over this. They’re hideous girls. Somehow they never get into trouble for any
of it. How do you ignore girls like that? I can’t. Zoe’s my best friend.”

“Do you want me to stay at OCD with you?”

I brighten. “You’d really do that?”

“Yep. I’d do anything for you.”
He
brushes aside my hair and starts kissing me on the neck. “It’s going to be
awful not seeing you until Tuesday. Why don’t you come to Palm Springs with
everyone, Kaley?”

I groan as his kisses move to my ear. “I can’t.
It wouldn’t be right, Bobby, because everyone isn’t going. Zoe can’t and she’s
really down, really depressed that Jake is going without her. I don’t want to
ditch her. It wouldn’t be a nice thing to do.”

His mouth moves to my lips, teasing me slowly,
and then eases back. “Fine. But I’m not going to have fun without you.”

I make a pout. “Yes, you are. Just don’t have too
much fun. Instead, think of how much fun you’re going to have when you get back
Tuesday.”

He grins. “Oh yeah. Definitely want to think
about that.”

Laughing, I go back to the desk and quickly
attach the video project to an e-mail and send it off to my visual arts
teacher. “There. Done. If I can I’ll stop by your house before you leave.”

He loops his arm around my shoulders and walks me
down to the detention room. He reaches for the knob and pulls me in for a fast,
heated kiss before he opens the door.

“Try not to get into any more trouble for one
hour,” he teases. “If you rack up a pink slip while serving time for a pink
slip I’m pretty sure that’s not going to go well for you and I don’t want you grounded
so we can’t take off for Santa Cruz next week.”

I make a silly face. “I’ll be a perfect angel.” I
can feel my eyes grow sparkly. “I’d hate to ruin Santa Cruz for us.”

Bobby breathes out in a slow, luscious way. “I’ve
been looking forward to a repeat of Thanksgiving for weeks.”

I flush. “Me, too.”

He pulls back the door wide. “In, Miss Stanton.
The sooner you get in there, the sooner you get home.”

I enter the room. Empty—no surprise, since I’m
pretty sure I’m the only one with a lame enough life to get detention the last
day before a two-week break—and then I turn back to Bobby. “I’ll text you when
I get home and let you know if I can go to your house before you leave.”

When the door closes behind me, I reach into my
pocket for the pink slip and stop in front of the desk where my advocacy
teacher is sitting.

I hold out the paper to her. “Sorry, Mrs. Trent.”

She looks up from her laptop and points at the
chair. “Sit, Miss Stanton.” She leans back, staring at me above the rims of her
half-glasses. She frowns. “Are you doing OK, dear?”

I tense.

That question I wasn’t expected.

I nod. “I’m great.”

Her crinkled brows lower. “I know you kids don’t
think so, but you can talk to me about anything. Not just about your future
academic plans. Talking to someone might work better than how you are dealing
with your circumstance at present.”

Hmm—well, this is random. Where is she going with
this?

She slaps shut the laptop, grabs a pen, and signs
my pink slip. “Get out of here, Kaley. You don’t need detention for giving
Natasha the bird. We’re done for today.”

I stare at her, stunned.

“Thank you, Mrs. Trent. You can be really cool
sometimes.”

Her brows shoot up. “No, I’m not being cool. I
want you to remember what I said. Talk to me. There are other ways to deal with
your issues than how you are managing them.”

A burn crowds my cheeks, but I nod and hurry out
of the room before she can say anything else or change her mind.

When I get to the parking lot, Bobby has already
cut out. I debate whether I should go to his house and pretend I was at OCD or
go home like Chrissie ordered me to.

I climb into my car and pull from my spot. At the
exit, I look left toward Bobby’s and right toward my house. My fingers tighten
around the steering wheel and I slowly exhale.

Go home, Kaley. Home. You just caught a break.
Don’t fuck it up now.

Groaning, I turn right and head for home. When I
enter the house it’s quiet—a good sign that I did the right thing not going to
Bobby’s first—and I cross to the kitchen and dump my stuff on the center
island.

Jeez, it doesn’t even sound like anyone is home.

I quickly start checking rooms.

Family room empty.

I open the French doors, step out onto the patio,
and hear a raspy, accented voice. Oh crud. Alan is sitting at a table looking
hyperindustrious—weird, totally weird—laptop open, definitely not happy, and
his expression stiff like he’s in some sort of intense phone conversation.

Slowly, I step back and turn, trying to get into
the house before he sees me.

“Kaley, please sit. I’ll be done with this in a
second. I’d like to talk to you,” Alan announces, abrupt, and I turn to find
him staring at me, cellphone away from his ear.

Fuck, are the planets out of whack or something?

Why does everyone want to talk to me today?

I close the sliding door and drop down onto a
chair across the table from Alan. My leg starts to jiggle as I listen to him
continue to jabber into the phone.

Waiting, Alan, waiting. So rude. Fuck. I’m going
to miss Bobby if this keeps up.

“I’m sorry that took so long,” Alan says and I
look up to see the cell sitting on the table. “I’m leaving for New York later
tonight and there’s a lot going on right now.”

OK, status report done—
as if I give a shit
.

I smile. “It’s OK.”

His eyes lock on the computer and he starts
clicking. “Come sit over here, Kaley. I want to show you something.”

I move to his side of the table and sit in the
chair beside him. He moves the laptop in front of me.

“Your photographs are lovely. Your mom thinks so
and so do I, but we would prefer if you stopped posting them online.”

For a second my heart stills until the screen
comes into focus for my eyes. Then I frown. This is what all the fuss is about?
It’s a picture of Mom and Alan with the boys. It’s a sweet picture. Our weird
family normal.

I study it, feeling my emotion kick up. It’s
undeniable. Definitely unexpected. Alan is a surprisingly good parental figure,
and as involved a stepfather for my brothers and sisters as Jesse was for me.
Nope, I didn’t expect that. It hasn’t been totally awful this repeat of living
with Alan. Krystal and the twins seem happier.

So what’s wrong with this picture?

Maybe he thinks it ruins his image.

Stupid, Alan.

It makes you likeable.

Maybe that’s what’s bugging him.

I look at him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what I’ve
done to piss you guys off, but it’s really none of your business what I post on
my social media pages. I can’t believe you spied on me.”

Alan’s black eyes sharpen. “It’s our business
because what you post affects all of us. You’ve got the house in that
photograph, sweetheart. The street number. I would prefer you didn’t do that
until I can convince your mother to live somewhere less accessible. My security
sent it to me when it popped online.”

My face colors.

His security spies on me?

Un-fucking-believable.

“It doesn’t matter what I post,” I counter hotly.
“Anyone who wants to can already find out where we live and that’s Mom’s fault
and not mine or didn’t your nifty security team discover that one yet? She
filled out my school packet at the beginning of the year and checked the box to
make it public on our loop. It’s been up since August.”

“Oh fu—” He stops himself quickly, then rakes a
hand through his hair. He makes a charming, slightly inane, apologetic
expression. “Sorry, I shouldn’t swear around you kids.”

I shake my head. He tries. He really tries. I’ll
give him that even though I don’t want to. I keep my expression carefully
neutral. “Is that all? Can I go?”

Those black eyes lock on me.

“No, the other concern is Khloe. You’ve been
posting a lot of pictures of her and that stops now. Both Chrissie and I would
prefer you not do that either.”

My stomach does a painful shimmy. “You mean all
this is about Khloe? Your big concern all of a sudden with my photographs and
social media is paranoid overreaction over
your
daughter. We live in the
’Sades not Mexico City. Get a grip.”

Alan visibly flinches.

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