by Emily Lowry
Jace winked. “What’s dinner without dessert?”
“It’s so great that you brought this cake for me,” Callie said. “What’s everyone else having?”
Jace pulled the cake away. “You think you can get any after what you did to my face?”
Callie stuck out her tongue. “Why not? Scars are hot. If anything, I’ve improved your face.”
She looked up at him, eyes sparkling. Despite how much Callie protested the existence of Jace’s hotness, her expression certainly said otherwise.
Callie took the cake back. She grabbed a knife and cut the first piece, putting it on a small plate and handing it to Jace. She divided the rest of the pieces, then raised her glass. “A toast to Jace. For the best mobile restaurant in Beachbreak.”
Jace blushed and kicked at the sand. “It’s nothing.”
“And for helping us escape the kitchen,” Ty added.
My first bite of ice cream cake? Incredible. Smooth vanilla ice cream, a slice of sweet strawberry, and a touch of chocolate, just cold enough to make me shiver. We ate the cake in silence, watching the sun disappear behind a patch of thick gray clouds. The wind picked up, rolling off the ocean, and carried the clouds towards us.
I had just finished my second piece of cake when the first raindrop fell on the back of my neck. I yelped and rubbed the cold away. “So, Jace. How does your restaurant hold up against rain?”
“Um…”
“That’s not the best answer.”
“I mean, as long as it doesn’t rain too much—”
But as soon as Jace finished his sentence, the sky opened. It was like someone was hiding in the clouds, dumping literal buckets of cold water on us. Jace cleared the table as quickly as he could, unceremoniously shoving food and dishes into hidden compartments.
“We can get under the roof,” he shouted.
“Where’s your courage?” Callie asked. Instead of scrambling onto the table like the rest of us, she strutted into the rain, her arms extended. Her eyes were wild as she tilted her head back and yelled into the sky.
Jace’s eyes followed her. “Dude, are you nuts?”
“She absolutely is. That’s why we love her,” I said. Then, I did something that was very unlike me. Instead of curling up under the roof and waiting for the storm to end, I hopped off my chair and followed Callie across the beach. The rain drenched me, soaking my clothes and giving me goosebumps.
Callie turned, saw me coming, and waved for me to catch up.
“I have short legs,” I shouted over the storm.
Callie laughed. “Take off your shoes, Nina.”
She kicked off her sneakers and removed her wet hoodie. She stood on the beach, wearing just her tank top and leggings. I hesitated for a moment before following suit, stripping off my jacket and stepping out of my flats.
She grabbed my hand. “Come on, boys! Room for two more!”
Jace and Tyler exchanged a glance.
And then they were off, sprinting across the beach, sand flying in a flurry behind them. As they ran, they ripped off their shirts.
As Tyler threw his shirt to the sand, I definitely, DEFINITELY, checked him out. He was tall and lean, and the rain slicked his muscles. There was a small, white scar just below his collarbone. Zoe had given him that scar when he was six and they got into a pencil fight.
Callie and I extended our free hands. Tyler took mine, Jace took hers.
Then, in a line, we all faced the ocean. The storm had brought sudden waves – high ones – and they frothed white before crashing onto the beach. The wind slashed at our faces.
But I didn’t care.
I felt alive.
I squeezed Tyler’s hand.
“Are we going to do this?” Callie asked.
Jace and Tyler looked at me.
Callie was always game to get in the water, but me? I wasn’t exactly known for that. Especially during a storm. In December. Sure, it was California, but the water was still teeth-breaking cold.
A smile creeped across my face. “On three?”
Tyler squeezed my hand.
“One.”
We took our positions.
“Two.”
I braced myself for the cold.
“Three!”
The four of us took off across the beach, the sand flying beneath our feet. We screamed as we ran, and not one of us stopped or even hesitated until we reached the freezing waters of the Pacific. We ran as the waves crashed over us, until we couldn’t feel our feet, and another wave hit us and we fell, submerged in the water. Through my smile, I tasted the salt in the water, and I felt the ice cold wrap around me.
Then, I felt something warm. Tyler’s hands, finding me in the darkness, and pulling me to the surface. He held me out of the water and his eyes met mine. Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding onto him tight. If there wasn’t lightning in the storm, there was definitely electricity between us.
Callie and Jace joined us, and we laughed and fought and yelled as the waves crashed around us.
As we laughed against the lashing rain, I had a single thought:
This was easily the best day of my life.
29
Tyler
I sat on my couch, my guitar on my lap. I fiddled with the strings, playing my way through as many Christmas songs as I could remember. When I didn’t know how to play something – which was frequent – I searched on YouTube until I found some dude with an instructional video.
It was the first Sunday that I had been alone in a while. It was probably for the best – I had a slight cold. Probably from last night’s surprise swim in the Pacific.
I wouldn’t tell anyone, but I dreamed about Nina last night. In my dream, when we emerged from below the crashing tides, I pulled her into me, tilted her chin up, and kissed her. And as we kissed, the waves broke around us.
Yeah.
That was definitely not a dream I was going to talk about. Ever.
My phone vibrated.
A text from Nina. Hey you. I’ve got good news and bad news. Which first?
Good news, I replied.
The good news is that we know what the next Candy Cane event is.
That was good – I’d been waiting for this. But…
What’s the bad news?
My phone sat silent for a moment.
Then a reply appeared. You’re going to have to do something you don’t want to.
What could that possibly be?
My phone buzzed again. Are you ready for it?
Ready for what?
It’s a group Christmas Carol, Nina texted. You’ll have to sing.
30
Nina
The next Beachbreak Candy Cane event involved singing Christmas carols on Highline Beach. I told Tyler that it wasn’t a competition, but that did little to ease his nerves. I couldn’t blame him. I wasn’t a good singer either, but at least I was used to playing an instrument in front of people. He was not — in fact, he had never performed at all. The best thing we could do, I decided, was to get as big of a group together as possible to make him more comfortable.
I was the first of our group to arrive at the beach that Saturday. The event took place in the evening, and carolers were staggered across the beach. Groups were far enough away from each other that they wouldn’t drown each other out, but as I listened to the other groups warm up, my heart sunk. They were good. Many of them were professional choirs.
And us? I don’t think any of us had any real vocal talent.
The rest of my group arrived at roughly the same time. We’d coordinated our outfits — we all wore red and green clothing and matching Santa hats. Tyler and Jace looked slightly uncomfortable in their outfits. They shifted around, adjusting themselves as though the clothes were too tight.
Mason, on the other hand, wasn’t bothered by the clothes. He and Zoe were currently dancing their way through the carolers. The crazy outfits probably didn’t bother Mason, though — he wore a new costum
e practically every time he and Zoe went to a dance.
Tyler paced through the sand, not making eye contact with anyone. He bit his lip.
I felt a pang of guilt. I knew how much he didn’t want to sing, how embarrassed he was by his voice. And I felt terrible for even asking him to come. But I also knew that he would be disappointed if I hadn’t asked at all. He would want to live up to our deal, and more importantly, he wouldn’t want to let me down.
I frowned, unsure of what to do. The Christmas caroling event was always my grandma’s favorite — and she was guaranteed to be here. While she wasn’t nearly as much of a gossip as my aunt or uncle, if she saw us here, word was sure to spread through the family grapevine.
But I couldn’t do this to Tyler.
I walked beside him and stroked his back. “How are you doing?”
“Regretting my choice in supper,” Tyler said. “I’m so nervous I feel like my stomach might crawl out of my mouth.”
Another pang of guilt. It was one thing to ask someone for a favor. It was another thing entirely when that favor was something that they dreaded doing. No, I decided. I definitely couldn’t make Tyler do this. “You can go home,” I said. “Or you can just lip sync. It’s okay.”
“I said I’d be there for you, and I meant it,” Tyler said. There was a look of grim determination on his face. Along with a hint of green coloring. “If people are going to hear me, they’re going to hear me.”
“Seriously — it’s okay if you want to go.”
“I can do this,” he said, looking at me.
I gave him the biggest smile I could muster. “You can do this.”
Around us, other Christmas Carol choirs were singing. I heard “Jingle Bells,” “Joy to the World,” and “Deck the Halls.” While some choirs were more impressive than others — one near us was doing a complete a cappella rendition of Rudolf — others were merely average. Unfortunately, average was probably far above our group’s skill level.
This only made Tyler more nervous.
It made me nervous, too. In fact, the only people that weren’t nervous were Mason and Zoe. It didn’t seem like they had a care in the world — they were currently doing a dance in between the different caroling groups. When they got close to a choir singing a different song, they would change their dance to match the rhythm.
“They’ve got moves,” Callie said.
Kenzie pushed up her glasses. “Not surprising. They’re practically stuck at the hip practicing together.”
“Come on, you two, let’s get the show on the road,” Callie shouted.
We lined up in a small area. Zoe, Kenzie, and I stood in the front row. Tyler was behind me, then there was Jace, Mason, and Callie — who insisted that she was tall enough for the back row. It was hard to argue — while she wasn’t as tall as the boys, she was much taller than the rest of us.
“Do we have to sing the entire time?” Tyler asked, his voice trembling slightly. “Or just when your grandma comes by?”
“The whole time, man,” Mason said. “Need to get everyone’s eyes on us.”
“Nina?” Tyler asked.
It was a tough call. I agreed with Mason — we needed to sing the entire time. But, despite Tyler’s insistence that he was okay with doing this, I still felt tremendously guilty. People should never have to do things they didn’t want to do — wasn’t that exactly what I was trying to avoid with Edward Stewart?
“I’ll sing the entire time,” I said. “And if you don’t know the words, just nod along. No one will notice.” I shot Tyler a meaningful glance and hoped that he understood.
He smiled weakly and nodded.
Then we sang “Frosty the Snowman.”
I would love to say that we all came together as brilliant artists, that the sum was greater than the parts, and that we knocked our chorus out of the park.
But the truth?
While I could play trumpet, I was an average singer. Zoe was in the same boat. Callie wasn’t off key, but she was always a step out of time. And Kenzie? Thanks to her time in choir, she was easily the best of us. And probably the only one worth listening to.
The boys each had their own issues. Mason was horribly off-key and behind. Jace was so bad that I thought he was joking until I looked at him and saw the earnest expression on his face. And Tyler’s voice was so low that I could barely hear him, even though he was right behind me.
But he was singing.
He was trying.
And that’s what counted.
We were about to start our third song when I noticed my grandma. She was walking among the group of carolers, her cane in one hand and her other hand clutching my uncle’s arm. She was old, but she was happy, a serene smile on her face.
The problem was that she was nowhere near us — and it looked like she was headed in the opposite direction.
“That’s her,” I said.
“Not very interested in us, is she?” Callie asked. “Not that I can blame her. I’m part of this group and I’m not particularly interested in us either.”
“What do we do?” Zoe asked.
I didn’t know. As I so often did, I looked towards Tyler for answers.
31
Tyler
There was so much sadness in Nina’s eyes that she may as well have been the last puppy left in the pet store. Her grandma was clearly content to wander along the beach, going from choir to choir and skipping over the ones that she wasn’t interested in. And we weren’t nearly good enough to draw her interest.
Not unless she saw Nina.
We needed to attract her attention.
We needed to sing louder.
I nudged Mason. “I need you to back me up on this one, dude.”
“Why, what are you—“
Before he could finish, and before I lost my nerve, I started singing as loudly and as obnoxiously as I could.
The girls stopped and stared.
Heat immediately rose to my cheeks. What was I doing besides making an idiot of myself? And the girls weren’t the only ones who were looking either — the nearest choirs were shooting puzzled expressions in our direction. I was making a complete fool of myself.
I was just about to stop singing when Mason and Jace joined in.
They were loud.
They were obnoxious.
They were off key.
But they were attracting attention.
The girls, seeing what we were doing, joined in with our train wreck. If we were bad before, now we were absolutely horrendous. I knew that I should’ve been embarrassed. Mortified, even. But that was the thing with friends — if you did something by yourself, it was weird. If you did something and five of your friends also did it? It became a dance move.
A few of the other choirs had stopped singing.
My knees trembled. I struggled to keep my smile on my face. I tried to act like I didn’t care what the world thought, even though I was trembling inside. It was ridiculous, when I thought about it — I could easily play a sport where the linebacker would try to take my head off every time I caught the ball over the middle. But singing in front of people? That felt impossible. If I didn’t have Mason and Jace to back me up, there was no way I could’ve done it.
Nina’s grandmother looked over. She frowned, confused, and then caught sight of Nina. She smiled and pointed, and Nina’s uncle led her over.
It was working.
It was actually working.
Which was good — because my voice was already going hoarse. Another carol as bad as this one, and I would lose it entirely.
As Nina’s grandmother drew closer, I put my hands on Nina’s shoulders and squeezed, trying to play up our relationship. Nina looked back at me and smiled, and honestly, the smile on her face was worth any kind of embarrassment I could suffer. She reached up and placed her hand on mine.
We finished our song, and Nina’s grandmother applauded vigorously. As if we were actually good at singing.
Nina broke away from me
and hugged her grandma. She whispered something in her ear and her grandma laughed.
“No, no, no,” her grandma said, smiling warmly. “It was quite wonderful. Voices like angels.”
“I wouldn’t want to go listening to any angels, then,” Mason muttered.
I snickered and stepped away. Slowly but surely, my pulse was returning to normal.
Nina waved me over. “Grandma, there’s someone I want you to meet. This is my boyfriend, Tyler.”
Nina’s grandma glanced towards her uncle out of the corner of her eye. “Yes, there were whispers of this at the last family dinner. I didn’t know if they were true or not — your mom said they weren’t.”
“Mom says a lot of things,” Nina said.
Her grandma smiled. Before I could say or do anything, she waddled over and wrapped me in a hug. “And look at you! You must be twice as tall as Nina!”
Nina scoffed. “He is not twice my height.”
Her grandma grinned. “At least twice your height. And how nice for the two of you to be together for the Christmas season. I assume you’ll be coming to our Christmas Eve party?”
I didn’t know what to say. The whole point of our plan was that Nina would attend the Christmas party alone, but say that I was her boyfriend so she didn’t have to kiss Edward Stewart. But her family was so warm and welcoming, and her grandma was looking at me so hopefully. What else could I say?
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I said.
“That’s wonderful,” Nina’s grandma said. “And we’d love to hear more of your singing.”
Mason and Jace snickered.
“Yeah, Tyler, sing us a song,” Mason shouted.
I made a mental note to give Mason a punch in the shoulder as soon as possible. His non-throwing shoulder — I didn’t want to hurt our chances for state. Fortunately, before I could say anything, Nina’s grandma bailed me out.
“While I would love to hear that, I think that it’s only fair to give the rest of the choirs a chance. But I will see you on Christmas Eve, Tyler.”