Something I'm Good At: A Sol del Mar High Novel

by Caroline Andrus

  “How about there?” I point toward a patch of sand at one end of the beach that falls in the shadow of the rocky cliff. It’s so far down the beach most people don’t bother.

  “Good eyes,” Kane says, and we begin walking down the boardwalk toward the shady spot.

  Armed with his ice cream cone and skateboard, Kane no longer has his arm around my shoulders. I feel both relief and a pang of remorse. I don’t want to want his arm around me, but I do. Kane is a complication in my already complicated life, but I can’t deny how nice and comforting it feels.

  We reach the spot and stake our claim. Kane flops down first, sending up a spray of sand. I sit more carefully, preferring not to eat the beach with my dessert.

  “So.” Kane takes a bite out of his ice cream. He looks at me, vanilla on the tip of his nose, and says, “Top five favorite movies. Go.”

  “Uh…” Kane has a talent for catching me off guard. It seems like he just says the first thing that pops into his head. “You go first.”

  “Nope. I asked you.”

  I groan. “Okay. Top five movies of all time.” I’m stalling, flipping through my favorite movies in my head and trying to narrow them down. “Uh… Say Anything, The Princess Bride, Mean Girls, Can’t Buy Me Love, and The Breakfast Club.”

  Kane blinks at me, his face scrunched up. “I’ve heard of at least one of those.”

  I laugh. “I know, I have weird taste in movies. I like a lot of the 80’s teen classics. I grew up watching them with my mom.”

  “Of those five, which is your absolute favorite?”

  I answer with no hesitation. “Say Anything.”

  “Why?”

  I shrug. Scooping up a pile of sand with my free hand, I let it trickle through my fingers. “I don’t know. It’s about two people from different worlds who shouldn’t be together. When her world comes crashing down, he’s there for her anyway, he doesn’t judge her. They accept one another exactly as they are. Plus, Lloyd is so romantic.”

  “Got it. Romance is the key to your heart.”

  I roll my eyes and try to hide my smile. “Every girl wants romance.”

  Kane asks me more questions, my top five bands or artists, top five TV shows, and so on. I wonder if he’s found an interrogation list on the Internet, or if he’s naturally destined to work for some clickbait website someday.

  This goes on for hours but feels like minutes. Kane is easy to be around, and I’m actually enjoying myself. For the first time in months I’m not pretending.

  His phone buzzes, and he pauses in his questioning. His eyes skim the screen, and his face falls. “Crap. Sorry, I have to video chat my dad.”

  “Oh,” I say. “I don’t mind waiting.”

  “Thanks.” He taps his screen, opening his video chat app. I expect him to wander off somewhere for privacy, but he remains seated beside me. I try not to be nosy, but I can’t stop myself from glancing at his screen.

  “Hey, Kid!” An upbeat male voice floats out of the phone’s speaker.

  “Hey, Dad. How’s it hanging?”

  “Very carefully.”

  Kane and his father laugh, and I’m left wondering what the big joke is.

  “Where are you?” his dad asks.

  “The beach.”

  “With Mark and Abigail?”

  “They’re around here somewhere." His face brightens, and he casts a glance at me. "Hey, say hi to my new friend, Summer.” Kane angles his phone so that I’m in the frame.

  “Hi, Mr. Dwyer.” I have a better view of the screen now, and I can see the resemblance between Kane and his father. They share the same shade of medium-brown hair and the same infectious grin. You can’t look at either one of them without wanting to smile yourself.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Summer. Call me Crash, everyone else does.”

  I catch Kane rolling his eyes beside me, and I pause upon hearing the nickname.

  “Nice to meet you too.”

  Kane and his father chat for a little while longer, and I take the opportunity to reapply my sunscreen. I used to love the coconut scent, but by this point, I’m sick of it. It’s become another reminder of my lupus. I should have reapplied a couple hours ago, but we’ve been in the shade, so I figure I’ll be all right.

  As I rub the lotion into my skin, I can’t help but listen to Kane’s conversation. From what I can gather, his dad works in Hollywood as a stuntman. I’m beginning to understand Kane a little better now. Understand where his impulsive—and somewhat crazy—personality comes from.

  When Kane disconnects from the video chat with his dad, he grins at me.

  “So that’s your dad, huh?” I say.

  “Yep. Having divorced parents is awesome.” He casts his eyes to the sky, his words oozing sarcasm. “I live with my mom, but Dad and I video chat at least once a week, and I go visit him in Hollywood as much as I can.”

  “That sucks.”

  He shrugs. “Yeah. Wanna know the worst part?”

  I nod.

  “I’m pretty sure they still love each other.”

  I keep quiet, wondering if Kane has solid proof of this or if it’s just wishful thinking.

  “I know what you’re thinking but hear me out.” He holds his hands up defensively, his face serious. “Everything was fine between them, until my dad got burned really bad doing some stunt on a movie set. He had to get skin grafts and crap—it was pretty gross. Anyway, I heard my mom begging him to quit and find a safer job. But Dad couldn’t do that, stunts are a part of who he is. There were a lot of nights of arguing, always about the same thing. They never knew I was listening. A couple months later they told me Dad was moving out.”

  “Wow.”

  “Yeah, and every time Dad comes to pick me up, they almost act like they’re still married. And I’m pretty sure neither has dated anyone else.”

  “Do you hope they’ll get back together?”

  He shrugs. “I’ve kind of given up hope on that. This all happened when I was ten. Anyway, it’s getting late. We should probably find Abigail and Mark, huh?”

  I check the clock on my phone, realizing I’m probably going to be late for my meds. I mentally shrug, oh well. An hour late probably won’t kill me. Though my mother might.

  Kane stands, then offers me his hand. I give him a small smile and accept his help.

  We head back toward the boardwalk, listening to the sounds of the waves crashing on the beach, gulls calling, and people talking and laughing. It’s nice. It’s normal. It’s something I haven’t allowed myself since my diagnosis.

  “You up for some In-N-Out Burger?” Kane asks.

  “I would kill for some In-N-Out Burger,” I confess, my stomach grumbling.

  Kane pulls his phone from the pocket of his cargo shorts and quickly shoots off a text. The phone is buzzing with a reply before he can even put it away.

  “Abigail says to meet her down by the water. She’s trying to flag down Mark.”

  “Wait, he’s still surfing?” I ask in surprise.

  “Oh yeah, his endurance is ridiculous. It can be really annoying sometimes. He literally only comes to shore every couple hours to chug water and maybe cram down a protein bar, then he’s back out there.”

  I shake my head. “Why do you guys come to the beach with him if he ditches you to surf?”

  “Because,” Kane says, as if it should be obvious. As if that single non-answer is an answer.

  I think back to my old friends. There's no way they would have sat on the beach while I surfed for hours. They would’ve ditched me after ten minutes. Well, maybe not Rachel. I push her from my mind, not wanting to think about her betrayal, and return my attention to the present. “You’re a good friend,” I tell him. “You and Abigail both.”

  Kane beams and slings his arm around my shoulders again. I don’t stop him, though I do wonder if I’m leading him on. I don’t want to get romantically involved with anyone. I can’t. It isn’t fair for anyone else to have to deal with me and my medical
issues. I especially don’t want to burden someone like Kane.

  “Did you know I used to be next door neighbors with Mark?”

  I shake my head no.

  “When my parents got divorced, Mom and I had to move. Abigail’s family bought my old house. She actually has my old bedroom.”

  “That must be weird,” I say.

  Kane shrugs. “It was at first. I was actually really jealous because suddenly Mark was hanging out with Abigail more than me. I was ten, and Mom wouldn’t let me ride my bike all the way over to Mark’s any time I wanted. Eventually Mark made me hang out with both of them, and we’ve been like family ever since. It’s actually nice to get to visit my old house pretty much whenever I want.” He pauses. “There’s Abigail.”

  We spot her standing at the water's edge. The waves lap her bare feet, as she flails her arms in the air like a maniac. I follow her gaze into the ocean and spy a surfer riding to shore. As the wave gives out, he drops to his stomach on the board and paddles. Abigail drops her arms to her sides and turns to us.

  “Hey,” she says.

  “How long have you been standing here?” Kane asks. Something about the way he’s grinning tells me this is nothing new.

  Abigail rolls her eyes. “A good five minutes. I’m sure he saw me right away, but you know Mark.”

  Mark jogs in from the ocean moments later, board under his arm and water dripping from his brown hair. He’s grinning. “Killer waves today, guys,” he says, looking from Abigail to Kane. His eyes fall on me, “Oh, hey, Summer.”

  I give him a small wave. “Hey.”

  “In-N-Out Burger,” Kane says. “Let’s go.”

  “Yeah, yeah, hang tight, man.” Mark walks away from us toward the on site showers to rinse the salty ocean spray and sand from his body. We trail behind, waiting as he stands under the spray and peels off his wetsuit to reveal a pair of compression shorts beneath. I blush and avert my eyes. Mark is fit, and those shorts leave almost nothing to the imagination. Who knew he was rocking those abs under his baggy t-shirts and shorts.

  I catch Kane frowning at Mark, and then he glances at me. I pretend to be busy digging in my purse. I pull out a tube of lip balm and smear it on my lips while I look out at the waves.

  “I know, right?” Abigail whispers conspiratorially to me. “It’s hard for any straight girl not to stare.”

  “Can we go yet?” Kane complains.

  Abigail steps away from me, and out of the corner of my eye, I see her hand Mark a towel. One by one, she passes him clothes and a pair of sandals. I count to thirty before turning back, assuming it’s safe to look again.

  Mark is now clad in a pair of shorts and is pulling a faded red t-shirt over his head. He slips his feet into the athletic sandals and waves for us to follow him back to his car. Abigail rides shotgun, leaving the backseat for Kane and me.

  I’m glad to see that Mark is a careful driver, pulling out cautiously and using his indicator. The trio chats during the ten minute drive, while I’m content to sit and silently listen.

  When we arrive, Mark holds the restaurant door open for Abigail, then Kane grabs it. Mark shakes his head and walks in.

  Kane grins and gestures for me to enter before him. This feels oddly like a double date, though I’m pretty sure Abigail and Mark aren’t together. Plus, this isn’t a date with Kane…at least, I don’t think it is.

  We place our orders at the counter and, after the ice cream earlier today, I’m not surprised when Kane pays for my meal. Maybe this is a date? I’m not sure how I feel about that, though I am having a fun time with him.

  We fill our cups at the drink station while our food is being prepared, then return to the counter to wait. Kane grabs the tray with my food and his, while Abigail grabs the other with hers and Mark’s.

  We find a booth, and Abigail and Mark sit on one side, leaving me to slide in next to Kane on the other. He casually puts his arm around my shoulders, and I suppress a smile.

  I catch Mark smirking at Kane, shaking his head slightly.

  Kane ignores him and focuses on Abigail. “So, tonight’s the big sleepover. What’s on the agenda? Pillow fights? Talking about boys? Braiding each other’s hair?”

  “Wow, Kane,” Abigail says with a roll of her eyes. “Could your idea of a sleepover be any more antiquated?”

  “Antiquated. Big word, Abz.” Kane grins, then dodges the fry Abigail lobs at him.

  I watch their easy banter and envy the friendship these three share. Rachel and I used to be this close. Before.

  “But really, what are you doing tonight?” Kane asks before taking a giant bite of his burger. Ketchup drips down the side of his mouth, and I grimace.

  Mark is shaking his head again, chewing a bite of his own burger, his face still clean.

  “You’re disgusting, Kane,” Abigail says.

  Kane shrugs and continues chewing.

  “I’m not sure what’s on the agenda. Summer?”

  Three pairs of eyes settle on me, waiting for an answer. “Oh, um...” I take a long sip from my Coke to buy time, my mind whirring. I wasn’t even sure Abigail would agree to this. Was I supposed to schedule an evening of activities? I never had to do that with Rachel. “Watch movies? Hang out?”

  “There you have it. Movies and hanging out. Happy?” Abigail says, waving a fry at Kane. He reaches out and snatches it from her fingers, popping it into his mouth.

  “What are you doing tonight?” I ask, shifting the focus.

  “Hanging out at Mark’s house,” Kane says automatically.

  Mark’s eyebrows rise. “Did Mark know about this?”

  I hold back a laugh.

  Kane grins. “He does now.”

  It comes as no surprise that my mother is waiting in the foyer when Abigail and I arrive. The front door swings open before we even reach the top step.

  “You must be Abigail!” Mom says, a huge smile on her face. “I’m Summer’s mom, Susan.”

  I suppress a groan. Could she be any more embarrassing?

  “Thanks for letting me sleep over,” Abigail says with a smile.

  “Any time.” Mom motions us inside. “Come on in, girls, I’ve got dinner going, should be ready any minute.”

  “Actually, Mom, we just ate.”

  “Oh.” Mom sounds disappointed.

  “We’re going to hang out in my room for a while, okay?”

  “Okay, but Summer don’t forget—”

  “I know, Mom!” I cut her off before she can spill the beans about my meds in front of Abigail.

  Mom’s lips press into a thin line, and she lets the reminder go unsaid, as she closes the front door. I lead Abigail upstairs to my bedroom.

  Safe in the confines of my room, I shut the door behind us and face Abigail. “Sorry, my mom is…” I trail off. I can't finish that sentence without sounding like a spoiled, ungrateful brat.

  Abigail is busy looking around my room. “Don’t worry about it. Your mom seems nice.”

  “Yeah.”

  A high-pitched voice screeches, “Boo!” and I jump.

  My sister jumps out from behind my bed, and I lunge for her. “Mandy!”

  She ducks out of reach and runs for the door, slipping out of sight. I turn back to Abigail, a scowl on my face.

  “And that’s my little sister.”

  Abigail laughs. “She seems like fun.”

  I roll my eyes. “Sure. Fun. If you like someone sneaking into your bedroom and messing with your stuff all the time.”

  She shrugs. “I have older brothers. I was the one sneaking into bedrooms and messing with stuff.”

  We both laugh. I perch on the end of my bed, my heart rate finally slowing from the scare Mandy gave me.

  “You have a lot of makeup,” Abigail says, standing in front of my vanity. All of my brushes are lined up beside various tubes of lipstick, palettes of eyeshadow, and pretty much everything else you can imagine. Abigail reaches out and grabs an eyeliner, reading the label. “I’ve had my eye on t
his one for a while. How do you like it?”

  I suddenly remember Kane mentioning Abigail and her eyeliner. Maybe we have something in common after all.

  “It’s all right, not worth the price, though.” I open the top vanity drawer and pull out another eyeliner. “This one is much better. Glides on super smooth and lasts for hours with no smudging.”

  Abigail takes the stick from me and pulls out her phone. She snaps a photo. “I’ll have to check this one out.”

  “It’s nice to hang out with someone who appreciates makeup as much as I do.”

  She laughs. “Are you kidding? I hang out with Mark and Kane most of the time. They don’t know the difference between eyeliner and mascara.”

  “You don’t have any girl friends?”

  She pauses, and I wonder if I’ve offended her. “Let’s just say that most girls are…intimidated by me.”

  My brow furrows. “Okay...”

  Abigail grows quiet, and an awkward silence falls between us. I scramble for another topic, any topic at all. What comes out of my mouth is, “So, are you and Mark together?”

  Abigail laughs. “God, no. Mark is like a brother.”

  “Oh.” I feel a fierce blush creep into my cheeks. “And Kane?”

  “So not my type.”

  “What is your type?”

  Her eyes skim me up and down. “Not male.”

  My eyes grow wide in surprise. “Oh.”

  Abigail gives me a wry smile. “Now you see why a lot of girls don’t want to be friends with me. They think I’m going to hit on them or something.” She picks up a tube of lipstick, removes the cap, and inspects the color.

  “That’s dumb.”

  “Tell me about it.” Silence falls between us once more, then she says, “Ready to cancel this sleepover yet?”

  “That depends.”

  Abigail raises her brows. “On?”

  “Am I your type?”

  Abigail grins. “You’re too innocent for me.”

  I laugh, relieved. “Then no.”