Mrs. Calloway has just gone up to bed. We didn’t tell her about our little chat with Porter. We thought about it, and we were planning on it. But when we walked inside the house and she was sitting at the counter, looking so distraught with everything that happened today, we both felt like telling her what Porter said would have thrown her over the edge.
Eva and I are in her family room, curled up on the couch. Her head is resting right under my neck, her legs are wrapped around mine, she’s dozing in and out of sleep. It’s late and the guys are probably waiting for me to show up, but I can’t get myself to leave.
She yawns. “I would stay with you all night if I could. I want to, trust me on that, but you promised Coop and Beck. I don’t want them to think I’m stealing you from them.”
I laugh at the thought. “I’m sure they’d survive.”
She looks up at me with those stunning green eyes and says, “I want my mom to trust me. Us. I want her to trust us. If I’m sneaking you up to my room for the night, and she finds out, do you honestly think that’s going to help her and I have a normal relationship again?”
“No,” I sigh. She’s right. This time. I lean over and give her a kiss, and then another, and another.
“Not helping,” she laughs. She stands and pulls me up with her.
“Tomorrow,” I say, putting my arms around her warm body that I wish was still lying on mine. “Tomorrow we figure out where your dad is, okay?”
“And everything else we need to figure out.”
“Yes, everything else too. I have to give surf lessons with Coop in the morning. Can I pick you up a little after twelve?”
Her smile lights up her beautiful face. “I love that I already know when I’ll see you again.”
I bring her face to mine and give her a goodnight kiss, keeping my lips on hers as long as possible. Then I reluctantly head out of her house and to my jeep.
I TURN DOWN High Bridge, the main street that takes me from Eva’s house to the beach. It’s scenic, lots of willowy trees, lots of wildlife, lots of sharp turns with water on either side. I’m the only one on the road for a few minutes until I see lights coming at me from a distance. They’re blinding me, they’re so bright. I slow the jeep down and squint my eyes, waiting for this asshole to pass before I dare go any further. He flies by me so close … he causes me to swerve a little off the road and I almost go into the trees.
“Dammit!” I yell, turning the wheel to get myself out of the dirt.
I squint my eyes in my rearview mirror to see who it was that just passed, and I’m overcome with a sense of panic so quickly, I feel like I’m gasping for air. It’s a pickup truck, a red one, a very old one, without a back-license plate. His brake lights have come on and I watch as he does a swift U-turn so that he’s now catching up right behind me. I hit the gas. Something about this does not feel right again. Something tells me this is the same guy from earlier today at Dolly’s, and something tells me it’s not a coincidence that he’s behind me right now.
I try to keep my eyes on the road, but at the same time, I’m trying to see who’s driving this truck. He’s too close behind me to make out a license plate, and all I can see through the mirror is the khaki hat and the goddamn swinging palm trees. I speed up. He follows right on my ass. I hit the curves way too fast, each time dangerously driving off the road a little. He does the same. It stays this way, just the two of us on the road, until I get close to where Tackle Box is, where the road will lift up and become a drawbridge when bigger boats need to pass under it on the Halifax.
I see lights on the water, a boat is getting close to the bridge. I look ahead of me, hoping I’m not too late. The warning lights are just now flashing on the road, the gates are inching their way down. If I get trapped behind the gates as the drawbridge goes up, the pickup truck and I will be stopped together, for at least five minutes, with nowhere for me to go besides running into the woods or jumping in the Halifax.
Now’s my chance to lose this bastard.
I speed up as fast as the jeep will go. It’s a straight shot from where I am, to the drawbridge, no more curvy roads. I only have a matter of seconds before it’s too late and I won’t make it past the gates, and I need to make it past these gates. The pickup truck driver blares his horn in warning and starts to slow down, but I floor it, and I make it, leaving him trapped behind the closed gates and the rising drawbridge.
“Take that, you piece of shit!” I shout, then I speed my ass to Coop’s as fast as I can go.
A few minutes later I’m swerving the jeep down Coop’s driveway and parking on the grass, away from the road so that no one driving by can see it. I don’t even notice Coop and Beck as I slam the jeep door closed and head to the garage. My mind is not in a good place.
“What the fuck, man!” Coop exclaims. I jump out of my skin. He and Beck are at the fire pit again. “You about ran us over!”
I grab at the dirt, throwing it in the fire, trying to put it out.
“Dude,” Beck mumbles. “You having a meltdown or something? Don’t we usually get a warning before these?”
I see a jug of water by the garage. I grab it and dump the whole thing on the fire, putting it out so all that’s left is dark, angry smoke. I then kick the jug clear across the yard.
“Inside!” I yell to them. I don’t wait to see if they follow.
I go straight to the windows in the family room that overlooks A1A and stare out, waiting to see if the red pickup truck has tracked me down. I hear Coop and Beck as they come in from outside. They’re arguing with each other under their breaths. I’m sure they think I’ve lost my goddamn mind.
“You wanna tell us what the hell is going on, Bodhi?” Coop questions, scratching his head and looking at me out of the corner of his eyes.
“The red pickup truck!” I yell. “The one from Dolly’s today? It followed me after I left Eva’s, on High Bridge. He was right on my ass. This was not some goddamn coincidence. I lost him when the drawbridge went up—”
“Holy shit!” Beck cries out, rushing over to the windows to join me. “You sure it was the same guy?”
“Same palm trees on the mirror, same khaki hat.”
“Eva?” Coop suddenly says. “Did you check on Eva? If he followed you when you left her house—”
“Shit!” I cry out, grabbing my phone from my pocket. My fingers stumble to swipe it on and to get to her name. “Fuck!” I shout out in frustration. I hit her contact, it rings and rings and rings. “Pick up! Pick up!”
“Bodhi?” her groggy voice answers on the other end. I let out the breath of air I didn’t realize I’d been holding. “You okay?”
I am now. I take a deep breath. I don’t want to worry her. “Hey there, babe. I’m at Coop’s. I wanted to make sure you turned your alarm on after I left.”
I can sense her smile through the phone. “I did. I did it myself, everything’s on.”
“Good,” I say, relieved. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Of course. Night, Bodhi.”
“Night, Eva,” I say, hanging up and throwing my phone on the couch. I then slouch down against the wall.
Coop joins me on the ground and puts his arm around my shoulder. “You alright, man?”
“No, I’m not fucking alright! Would you like me to list every single thing that is not alright right now?”
“Do it,” Beck says while staring out the window. “It might help. For real, do it.”
I don’t hesitate. “The red pickup truck. Who the hell is following us in a red pickup truck?”
“No idea,” Beck says. “On to the next.”
I then tell them what Porter told Eva and I tonight. “Where the hell is Eva’s dad?”
“Running from Mr. Channing?” Beck guesses. “That’s what I’d be doing. Anything else?”
“My dad? Owen Edwards? Where are they?” I wonder. “And why did Eva’s dad not say anything about knowing my dad? And who cut the phone line hooked up to their alarm system, and who w
as in her dad’s office? And why do the Channings hate my grandparents?”
“Slow it down, man, slow it down,” Coop says.
I look over at him. He has his phone out and his fingers are moving madly on the screen. “You taking notes?” I laugh.
“How the hell else are we going to keep track of all this shit? Go on, keep going.”
“Uh, the letters,” I say. “The letters Eva heard her dad and Mr. Channing talk about. What the hell do they mean? And that Phoebe chick?”
“Letters,” Coop repeats. “Phoebe chick. Got it. Is that it?”
I think for a minute, I’m sure there’s more. “Is that not enough?”
“That’s plenty,” Beck replies.
Coop stands up. “Hang tight,” he tells us, walking into his kitchen. He reappears moments later with three beers. He hands one to each of us. “Crack’ em open bitches.”
We twist the tops off.
“We’re gonna solve this shit,” Coop insists, taking a sip of his beer and raising it up in the air. “All this shit on this list, we’re going to figure it all out, because we always do. To the Scooby Doo gang.”
I laugh and raise my beer. Beck raises his too and says, “That’s probably the corniest thing you’ve ever—”
“Don’t ruin the moment, bro,” Coop rolls his eyes.
We each take a big drink. “The Scooby Doo gang,” I repeat. “Does that mean …” I say suddenly. “Eva is she—”
“Daphne,” Coop replies. “She’s fucking Daphne.”
By the time the guys and I pass out a couple hours later, there’s been way too many beers drunk by each of us. I hate to think we’ll have to answer to Ma and Pop when they realize their stash of beer is missing from their refrigerator, but this isn’t exactly the first time we’ve done this.
WHEN THE SUN comes up, Beck leaves us to go help his grandparents at Dolly’s, as Coop and I struggle to down some coffee before heading out to give surf lessons. I’ve given up on sleep this summer, just keep the coffee coming.
I text Eva when Coop and I get down to the beach. She’s just waking up and is spending the morning with her mom and brothers, breakfast at Calvin’s she tells me. I don’t know why, but this makes me a little jealous. I want to be with her, eating at Calvin’s, holding her hand under the table, feeling her warmth as she rests her head on my shoulder. But I also have four solid hours of surf lessons to give to a group of very energetic kids who think the world of me. I toss my phone into my bookbag and start my day.
It’s brutal, pure torture actually. Like hell in the ocean. Half way through, Coop and I are struggling hard and I think I’m going to pass out in the sand. I’m lying here, the sun beating down on my clammy face, downing a bottle of water that’s sitting like a puddle in my throat that won’t move, and waiting for one of my favorite eight-year-olds to show up. Coop throws himself down next to me.
“No more beer the night before surf lessons,” he declares. “Totally my bad. I think I might have thrown up in the water twice already.”
“Right there with you,” I say to him, throwing him a water bottle.
“And the waves. Are they extra rough to you today? I feel like my entire body is rocking,” he looks nauseous as he speaks. “Even on dry land.”
“Hungover, Coop,” I announce. “We’re hungover.”
Coop suddenly points to the road mid drink. “Dude, red pickup truck!” he blurts out, spraying water all over my legs.
I sit up, feeling like the world might be spinning when I do, and see a red pickup truck parked further down the road.
“Is it the same one?” The sun is shining in my eyes and I can’t see clearly without moving. I definitely can’t move right now.
Coop jogs down the beach in the truck’s direction, swaying a bit as he goes. I have to stop watching. He keeps pausing to regain his balance and I can’t decide if I should laugh at him, or feel sorry for him because I’m sure I’d be doing the same thing. Just then, my next kid arrives. I’m out in the water with him when Coop returns. His next kid is here too, and they paddle out to join us.
“Same one!” he shouts to me. “Palm trees! Palm trees dangling from the mirror!”
“This is fucking ridiculous!” I silently mouth to Coop.
His eyes are large, “Well, yeah!” he exclaims. “No shit!”
Screw the goddamn pickup truck and its goddamn driver. I focus on my favorite eight-year-old. This kid has loads of talent and for what his parents are paying me, he deserves my complete attention. If I needed to, I could make a killing giving surf lessons to all the local kids daily. I’ve always questioned if this was my calling, and not just a quick way to make a few hundred dollars twice a week. After my hour with my prodigy is up, I glance over to see that the red pickup truck is gone.
The hell with him.
One more hour to go. One more long, excruciating hour, rocking on a surfboard and trying to keep the coffee and water down I managed to drink. One more torturous hour of using every muscle in my body that wants me to slip into a coma for the next week.
“Done!” Coop declares, throwing himself down in the sand after our last two kids leave with their parents. “Thank the lord Jesus. I didn’t think I was going to survive. I’m going to go home, throw up a few more times, take a shower and a nap. You?”
“Heading to Eva’s but will probably throw up on the way if that makes you feel better.”
He raises his hand for a fist bump. I oblige. “It does, man. It does. Looks like a nasty storm is coming tonight, but you two want to meet us at Dolly’s for dinner before it hits?”
“Definitely. The greasier, the better.”
I don’t even bother changing out of my swim trunks before getting in my jeep and heading to Eva’s. I have extra clothes in my bookbag, I’ll change into them when I get there. I drive slowly, watching out for red pickup trucks along the way. By the time I get to her house, I’m in desperate need of a nap. My stomach is spinning in circles, and I think sleeping this off might be the only logical answer at this point.
She opens the door and greets me in tight jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt that only fits snug on her chest. I might be hungover, covered in sand, looking as if I just walked out of the ocean after binge drinking for an entire weekend on a deserted island, but I can still see how beautiful she looks.
I can’t believe she’s mine.
“Babe,” I mutter. “Damn.”
She smirks as she looks at me in just my swim trunks. “Damn yourself.”
I lean in and kiss her. God, I missed her. These fifteen hours I’ve been without her.
“You want to come in?” she points behind her. “Or stay on my porch all afternoon? Maybe shake off the sand a little first?”
I brush what I can off and then put my lips to hers again as I move my way inside at the same time.
She brings her hands to my bare chest. “Hang on there, Casanova,” she laughs. “Everything okay?”
I nod my head. “Four hours of surf lessons, after way too much beer with Coop and Beck last night,” I tell her.
I watch for her reaction. I know she’s heard Coop talk about my past drinking. I won’t ever lie to her about how out of control that time was for me, but I honestly haven’t been hungover since the night before my mom checked into the hospital. I haven’t had a reason to drink since Eva came back into my life.
She gives me an inquisitive stare, but then she laughs and grabs my hand. “I know the cure for that,” she says, pulling me into her house. “Extremely greasy grilled cheese, and orange juice. Don’t ask. It’s always worked for me.”
I don’t ask. I don’t want to know who Eva was getting drunk with without me.
She places me at the counter as she makes one of the best grilled cheeses I’ve ever eaten, followed by a giant glass of orange juice. When I’m done, I feel like a new man. My stomach has stopped doing somersaults at least.
“Brilliant. I’m functional again,” I tell her.
“Go
od. Any reason why you drank yourself into a massive hangover after leaving my house last night?”
I hate disappointing her. God, it sucks to see her disappointed. I tell her about the pickup truck. I tell her how it pulled in at Dolly’s the day before, how it followed me on High Bridge after I left her house last night, and how I saw him again on the beach a few hours ago. I tell her about the palm trees on the mirror and the khaki hat and how I have yet to figure out who the driver is.
“I don’t know who it is, but whoever it is, I think he’s following me.”
She moves around the counter and places herself right in my lap. She puts her arms around my neck and her head right on mine as she says, “Don’t keep things from me. No matter how crazy they are. Don’t keep them from me. I’ve had enough people keep shit from me these last few years.”
“I won’t,” I tell her, but then my mind goes to the trust fund I have yet to tell her about. I don’t want to think about it right now though. I bring my lips to hers and pull her hips in closer to mine. Her fingers tug on my hair, sending a chill right down my spine. My mouth dives deeper into hers, but then I push us apart. “Where’s your mom?”
She laughs a little. “Gone, with my brothers. Took them to the beach for the day. I guess a storm is coming later tonight?”
“Coop said the same thing. Do you want to meet the guys for dinner later at Dolly’s?” I ask her. “It was Coop’s idea. I think he enjoys having you around again.”
She smiles. “I would love to, but first …” she climbs off my lap and takes my hand, leading me upstairs to her room.
I’m still in just my swim trunks as I take a seat on her bed. A nap sounds amazing right now, but so does whatever Eva might have in mind. I would not turn down having her lips back on mine again.
I watch her as she closes the door and walks over, pausing for a moment right in front of me. She bends down and kisses me gently on my lips. I don’t want just a gentle kiss though. I put my hands on her hips and guide her onto my lap as her lips stay on mine. She places her knees on either side of me, and my body reacts instantly to the fact there’s just a thin layer of material between me and her.
Confession Page 25