“Will you give me a surf lesson while you’re here? Please?”
“Tor, you’re supposed to take it easy,” Cassie reminded her. “You had that bad wipeout yesterday.”
“Hey, I don’t mind,” Bo said. “All the more reason for her to get back out there and face it, right?”
Cassie bit her lip. She had to admit it made sense. After all, wasn’t that the whole reason she was here at camp? To confront her own fear of the water?
“Yeah,” she said somewhat grudgingly. “I guess you’re right.”
“Cool! So who wants to go surfing?” Hands suddenly shot into the air. Bo laughed. “How ’bout you, Micah?”
Cassie could see him now. Micah was walking backward, shaking his head.
“Sorry. Can’t. Thanks anyway.”
“Aw, come on! Just a wave or two?” Bo urged.
“No. Got stuff to do. Good to see you though.” Without even glancing her way, he spun around and headed into the trees.
“I’m sure I’ll see you around!” Bo called after him. “At all the contests!”
Micah gave a wave without glancing back and then disappeared down the path. Cassie felt a little thud to watch him go—as if someone had just elbowed her in the ribs. But at least she could breathe a little better now. She still wasn’t quite ready to face him.
“All right.” Bo clapped his hands together. “Let’s get the surf party started!”
“I’ll go grab you a camp surfboard!” Sasha cried. She raced off down the beach.
“So Bo . . .” This time Sierra sidled up close to him. “Do you have a girlfriend?”
He laughed and shook his head. “No. No way. I mean, I love girls. And I love flirting. But absolutely no girlfriends while I’m in competition mode. It’s just way too much of a distraction.”
Cassie felt strangely comforted by his words.
Bo was right. Maybe the fact that things were over with Micah wasn’t necessarily a bad thing in the long run. She came here to get her head on straight and find her surfing legs again—and Micah had only made that harder.
Maybe it was a good thing that it was over. Or never really began.
Nine
“Sorry about your leg, man. That must suck. Especially today with the waves so awesome.”
“It’s okay,” Cassie said, pushing down the guilt until it was somewhere behind her spleen.
“You want me to walk myself to the rental car?”
“No, I’m fine. It’s not that far,” she replied, adding a bit of a limp to her step—for effect.
Once again she had told a lie. A big, fat, scaredybaby lie.
For a split second, she had been all set to go surfing with them. She thought hitting the waves with Bo might help her—that the bond they created after competing together for so long would restore her confidence and turn her back into Old Cassie. Pro Cassie. Fearless Cassie. So she followed him into surf.
Only it didn’t exactly turn out that way she’d hoped. As soon as her legs started treading the icy depths, she started jumping at every tiny grainy particle that brushed past her. After a while, she could barely keep a hold of her board, let alone surf on it. So she told them she’d really wrenched her left tendon trying to save Tori the day before and that it was acting up.
In her defense, it was only a half lie. Her tendon truly had felt a bit strained after pushing herself so hard yesterday. But it was already better.
Luckily Bo didn’t try to talk her out of leaving the water. As a fellow competitor, he understood the importance of nursing wounds to prevent them from doing more serious damage. And after a few stellar rides, he joined her on the beach until it was time for him to go.
“I’m starting to understand why you came here,” Bo said. He took a deep breath and added a spin to his next couple of steps—taking in the camp surroundings. “It’s really kind of . . . low key. Kinda nice after the high pressure life you’ve been living, huh?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t understand it before. When Micah said you were here, I figured he was just really confused. But now I get it. You’ve been through a lot. You deserve a break.”
Cassie didn’t say anything. She knew he was referencing the shark attack and she really didn’t want to discuss it any further. If she did, she might accidentally reveal that the true reason she was there wasn’t that she needed a break so much as that she was phobic about surfing.
“After the Vans competitions I might take a small time-out myself.” He stretched out his arms and circled his shoulders, as if suddenly aware of the tension inside him.
“You should.”
“You are coming back, though. Right?” Bo stopped walking and stared right into her eyes. “You’re gonna start competing again in the fall?”
“Of course.” She hoped her face looked convincing enough.
“’Cause you know, Keely’s saying she’ll rock the Reef Hawaiian this year and Marnie thinks she’ll steal the Roxy sponsorship away from you.”
“They wish!” Cassie exclaimed, feeling a genuine rush of outrage.
Bo laughed. “That’s my girl.”
Cassie couldn’t help but crack up, too. “You know, I’m really glad you came by,” she said. “It was so good to see you.”
“Me too. I miss ya, Hot Dog.” He reached forward and cupped her face in his big, calloused hand. “You’re the greatest chick ever.” He slid his hand along the side of her head, leaned forward, and kissed her right on the curve of her cheek.
A sudden rustling sounded in the nearby brush. What the heck was that? Was someone listening?
She waited a beat, but didn’t hear anything else. It was probably just a bird and she was still jumpy from treading into shark territory.
“I’d tell you to send a postcard, but I know you won’t,” she said, facing Bo again. “Do you even know how to write?”
He pretended to look insulted and play-socked her in the shoulder. “You should talk, Miss I’m-Going-To-Camp-And-Not-Telling-Anyone. I had to hear your news from some stranger.”
“Okay, okay. Fair enough.”
Bo climbed into the driver’s seat of his rented Dodge Neon and grinned at her. “Next time you go off-grid, tell me about it, okay? That’s what friends do.”
“I know. I promise.” She felt suddenly ashamed. Why didn’t she tell him and her other surf pals?
Because I thought they would judge me, she answered herself. She figured they’d assume something was really wrong and freak out. And then the whole world would know something was up with her.
And maybe, just maybe, she was just a tiny bit embarrassed?
“Bye, Bo. Be careful on the road. It’s not like the water, you know. It hurts extra bad if you go crashing.”
“Yes, Mom!” He rolled his eyes and started the engine.
Cassie stood and waved until he’d vanished around the curve.
Bo was a goofball, but he was a decent guy. And it was nice to see someone from that part of her life. Someone who only knew her as a fearless athlete and amazing hot-dog scarfer.
She might not be as daring as he thought, but at least he’d made her realize one thing: If she wanted to get back into competition mode, she needed to avoid relationships completely.
At least now there was one thing she wasn’t afraid of. She was now ready to face Micah and hear his bad news.
Micah was not eavesdropping.
Not really.
Well, maybe a little.
It wasn’t his fault that Simona sent him to the toolshed to fetch those garland lights for the dance. It also wasn’t his fault that he had to pass right by the parking lot to get there. And it certainly wasn’t his fault that Bo and Cassie were whispering sweet nothings and smooching so loudly that he couldn’t help but overhear.
(Of course, he did scurry away like a scared rabbit. That was kind of a guilty-looking thing to do.)
No, he didn’t need to feel ashamed about anything. In fact, he should feel fortunate that he’d witnessed Cassie and Bo
’s little love session. At least now he knew she hadn’t been straight with him. All this time and she’d never mentioned her pro-tour romance? Did she somehow forget that she had a big, muscular, semi-famous boyfriend? God, what a fool he’d been!
Yep, it was good luck that he was walking past them at that specific moment in time. At least now he knew she was a liar.
Just like it was bad luck that right at this moment, on his way back to the mess hall, his path happened to merge with the path to the parking lot. And that Cassie happened to be on it.
At first Cassie didn’t see him. She looked lost in thought. Probably all dreamy from kissing Superstar Bo. Finally she noticed him and her face lost all traces of dreaminess.
She came to a dead stop—possibly from surprise, possibly to let him veer ahead of her. Only . . . he also came to a halt at the same time.
So there they were. Staring stupidly at each other. Afraid to move.
Micah nervously shifted the cardboard box of lights to his right arm. Maybe if she noticed his burden she would skip on ahead, realizing he couldn’t keep up.
Instead she walked toward him. “Hi,” she said. It sounded forceful. Like a command instead of a greeting.
“Hi.” His was more like a moan.
“Listen,” she said, taking yet another step his way. “I’ve been thinking. I have to keep my head in competition mode right now. And I don’t need any distractions.”
Her words came out rapid-fire, as if she were scared he might run off before she finished.
Micah’s body went cold. He could tell what was coming. In fact, he’d been expecting it.
“So anyway,” she continued. “I think it’s probably best if—”
“I get it,” he interrupted. He couldn’t help it. His mouth just sort of fired up all by itself. “You don’t need to waste any more time on someone like me.”
His anger was loud and obvious. Of course he was mad. She was a liar and a fake. But he was also mad at himself. Who was he fooling thinking she would be interested in him when she could have some superhero type like Bo?
Cassie seemed startled. “What do you mean ‘someone like you’?”
“I mean, I know I’m not in your league. I realize I’m not one of these hotshot shredder guys you’re used to.”
Cassie looked completely taken aback. Her eyes widened and her mouth froze in an oval shape, but with no sound coming out. Probably shocked that he had her so figured out.
Since she wasn’t talking, he kept on going. “It’s obvious you have a thing for surfers. That’s understandable. Maybe I had your interest for a while, being the top guy here and all, but then I only came in third at the surf invitational and Bo called you back up. So I’ve been written off for someone better. Fine. Whatever. Let’s just move on.”
Cassie’s face turned red and blotchy. “You think I . . . ?” She stopped, cutting off her words as if strangled. Then she took a step toward him, her eyes flashing angrily. “I can’t believe you! What kind of a snob do you think I am?” she shouted. “Do you really think I judge people based on their surfing skills? Or are you just looking for a way out?”
Micah blinked in surprise. She seemed a lot more upset than he thought she’d be. They say the truth hurts. Maybe she just didn’t like the way he saw through her so fast.
“I thought I knew you!” she went on. “I thought you were . . . better than this!”
“Yeah well, I thought I knew you, too!” he snapped back. “I thought you were all sweet and special. I thought you were honest! I thought you . . .” He stopped, unable to say . . . cared about me.
For a moment neither of them spoke. They just listened to the shushing sounds of the wind, the waves, and the traffic on the nearby road. It seemed to Micah like the entire world was weary.
“This is too hard.” Cassie shut her eyes and her voice took on a sad quality. “And it shouldn’t be hard, right? I mean, if we can’t even talk about stuff—if we can’t even trust each other—then yeah, what’s the point? Maybe we were just a big mistake.” Her eyes opened. “Do you think we were a mistake?”
“Ahem.”
Micah jumped at the noise. Even Cassie looked freaked. Turning around, they could now see Danica stepping out of the shadow of a banyan tree.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said. Micah could tell she was trying to sound innocent. “Simona sent me to look for you, Micah. She really needs your help stringing up the lights for tomorrow’s dance. She’s waiting in the mess hall, and she seems kind of grumpy.”
“Okay, okay. I’m coming,” he muttered, not even trying to hide his annoyance. He turned back toward Cassie only to find she had gone, her final question left hanging in the air.
Like a string of tiny lights.
So that’s it. It’s over.
Cassie could feel something building in her chest, pushing upward until her throat felt blocked and tears coated her eyes. How could Micah say those things about her? Did he really see her that way? As a surf-obsessed, arrogant brat?
Her first relationship ever and all she had to show for it was one canceled kiss and one awful argument.
He was so mad at her. He even said she wasn’t honest. Did that mean he knew about her reading the text? She’d been wondering whether Danica had figured it out or not. Maybe she had, and had told Micah.
You really blew it, Cass, she told herself. Big-time.
“Whatever,” she said shakily. “It’s better like this, anyway. I need to focus on surfing—not him. Especially if he can’t keep away from Danica.”
Once again it was her head versus her body. Her brain was convinced that pulling away from Micah was the right thing to do. But the rest of her—all the soft squishy stuff inside her—was in total revolt. Tears were slipping down her cheeks and her heart seemed to be writhing around in agony.
“Yep, it’s better this way,” she said again, this time with a little more feeling behind it.
It didn’t help.
She trudged toward the C.I.T. bunkhouse feeling absurdly tired and heavy, as if she’d somehow gained a great deal of weight in the past few hours. And considering how many hot dogs she’d eaten with Bo, it wasn’t entirely impossible.
At least she wasn’t hungry for dinner. She really didn’t want to go to the mess hall and see Micah hanging up those lights.
As she reached her cabin, she stopped and scowled at the steps. Suddenly she didn’t want to go up. What if Danica was in there acting all smug and triumphant? Even if she wasn’t around, the place was probably full of happy, chatty girls busy modeling their outfits for the next day’s dance.
But . . . where was she supposed to go instead? Just then she heard a noise—a long mournful note. Spinning around she caught sight of a figure amid the hammocks strung in the nearby trees. Charlie?
The sound came again. It was Charlie, heaving a heavy and very sad-sounding sigh.
Cassie quickly wiped her cheeks and made her way toward him.
He was balanced on the very edge of one hammock, which caused the back side to flip up around him like a woven cage. He turned in slow half circles—creaking to the left and right and back again. As soon as he saw her he stopped.
“Hey,” he greeted, somewhat unenthusiastically.
“Hey there,” she said, also in a dull tone.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” she replied, trying to control the tremor in her voice. “Just . . . bad night.”
“Tell me about it.” Charlie blew out his breath again.
“What’s up?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
“Ah. So . . . want to tell me about nothing?”
He sighed again and dug the toes of his sandals in the dirt.
“It’s Andi, isn’t it?”
Charlie looked at her. “No. Well . . . yeah. But no.” He let out an exasperated grunt and shook his head. “I mean . . . it sorta is, but really it’s me. I’m the one with the problem. I just can’t talk to her.”
Cassi
e wrinkled up her brow. “Why not? Andi’s sweet.”
“I know that, but . . .” Again with the long sigh. If he wasn’t careful, Charlie was going to pass out from lack of oxygen.
“But what?” she prompted.
“I can’t get her to stop.”
“Huh?”
“Just what I said. I can’t get her to stop and talk to me.”
Cassie perched herself on the hammock to his left and he angled his body to face her.
“See,” he began. “I’ve thought about what you and Tori said at the meeting, and you’re right. So all day today I’ve been trying to ask Andi to the dance. Only...”
“She won’t stop?”
Charlie nodded glumly. “At breakfast I tried to catch her and she just said ‘hi,’ slammed down a yogurt drink, and headed out the door. Later on I saw her coming up from the beach, so I called to her. She said, ‘Hey, Charlie,’ and zoomed right past me. Then, just a few minutes ago, I finally saw her sitting down. Like on an actual bench—in the mess hall. I walked right up to her and she said, ‘Charlie, did you finish mixing the music for the dance?’ I said yes and she went, ‘Great! Thanks!’ Then she jumped up, squeezed my elbow, and sped away.”
“Sounds like Andi,” Cassie remarked. “I think the girl has wheels instead of feet.”
“I’m giving up. She’s so not interested in me.”
“But you don’t know that for sure!”
Charlie shot her a “get real” expression in the dim light. “If she liked me, she would at least slow down around me. Right?”
Cassie didn’t know what to say. He was making some sense. “But . . . that’s still a guess. You shouldn’t just assume that’s how she feels. Why do people do that? Why do they just decide things about another person without bothering to ask them?”
There was a short silence. Finally Charlie cleared his throat. “Well in my case it’s because I can’t ask her. Because she’s goes from zero to sixty in a matter of seconds.”
Cassie cracked up. It felt good to laugh. Her insides stopped thrashing around—at least for a short while.
“But . . . I get the feeling you were actually talking about someone else?” Charlie smiled at her. A warm, sympathetic grin.
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