Making Waves

by Nicole Leigh Shepherd

  “Uh … nothing.” I peek between palm trees, expecting to see Robby or my dad barrel through the back door ready to arrest Brody. They’d probably bring along a bogus charge, like Abby endangerment.

  “Doesn’t look like nothing, Abs. What are you on the Most Wanted list?”

  “You could say that,” I say, holding on to the rope.

  The siren fades. In its place, the sound of waves crashing and a pelican squawking seem to become more acute.

  I pull myself out of the water. I start to make my way over to my stuff when the French doors to Brody’s patio open. A woman with a high blonde pony dressed in gray shorts and a T-shirt walks out onto the terrace. In one hand, she carries a Windex bottle.

  I let out a breath, wishing that I’d met Brody’s mom under other—less wet—circumstances. “Hi, I’m Abby. It’s so nice to finally meet you.” I hold out my hand.

  “Oh. Hi, Abby. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you too,” Brody’s mom says. She gently smiles. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “Brody, do you want anything to eat before I run errands for an hour or two?” she asks.

  I’m surprised by how young Brody’s mom looks. But then again, Zoe’s mom had a bunch of surgeries two years ago and looks a lot younger than she used to too.

  Brody looks at me. “Do you want anything to eat?”

  I shrug, wrapping the nearest towel tightly around me.

  “No. We’re good. Thanks,” he says, dunking his head in the water.

  “I’ll see you later then.”

  “Where’s mom?” Brody asks.

  Wait. Mom? I thought she was his mom.

  “Your mom is in the master suite resting,” the woman retreats back into the house.

  I glance at Brody. “That wasn’t your mom?”

  Brody chuckles. “My mom? Julia is like thirty-two. No. That was my housekeeper.”

  “Oh,” I feel my cheeks flush. “So where’s your mom?”

  “Julia just said. Sleeping.”

  “I’d love to meet her someday,” I announce. I surprise myself with my brashness. This is the first time I’ve mentioned his parents. I’m all too aware that discussing his family life could lead to revealing information about my own. And that could definitely be a recipe for disaster, considering their collective hatred for all things Malibu Colony.

  Brody shrugs and looks away. “She’s really busy most of the time.”

  “How about your dad?”

  “They’ve been divorced since I was little.” He looks up at the sky. “So, when am I going to be invited to your house?”

  “I doubt you would want to meet my family,” I say. “They’re a little different.”

  “Different how? Are they the ones on the Most Wanted list?”

  “Heh …” I giggle nervously. Stalling for time, I wring out my hair.

  “Jeez, Abby. Maybe you should go … I’m not sure I should really be associating with the daughter of criminal masterminds,” Brody jokes.

  “No, no, it’s the opposite.” Did I just accidentally convince Brody Wilson that my family is a bunch of crooks? “My dad and brothers are police officers.” I cringe, waiting for his reaction.

  Brody hangs on the side of the pool. “Your dad and all three brothers?”

  “No, just the one so far, but the middle one is in the academy. My youngest brother wants to do something else.”

  “That’s cool.”

  “That’s cool?” I say. “You’re not freaked out?”

  “Why? Should I be?” He smirks.

  “I guess not,” I say, picking at the Mickey Mouse ears on my Disneyland towel. Unlike at the club, here I bring my own. “It’s just that my dad and brothers are a little overprotective.”

  “An overprotective family isn’t exactly something to be ashamed of.”

  “Yeah, but most guys are a little weird about the cop thing.”

  “I’m not most guys.”

  He can say that again. I toss my towel to the side and dive into the pool, eager to finish my laps now that we’ve gotten all of that Dr. Phil stuff out of the way. When I emerge from the water, Brody is inches from me. His green eyes glimmer.

  He pulls me toward him. “And since we’re asking questions … How come after spending nearly twenty-five hours training together just the two of us, you still won’t let me kiss you again?” His breath is hot against my neck.

  “I’m not most girls.” I giggle, mocking him. Goose bumps dot my legs.

  “I know.” Brody whispers in my ear. “That’s why I like you so much.” He lingers for a moment gently, his lips millimeters from my skin.

  Oh. My. God. As I’m about to give in, I pull away.

  I turn around, hoist myself out of the water, and sit on the edge of the pool. Still immersed in the water, Brody rests his arms and chin on my lap.

  Suddenly, I’m overcome with a sense of perspective. “Thank you,” I say, removing his arms from my lap.

  “For what?” He watches me lower myself into the pool again, my skin prickling like it’s being tickled with a feather.

  “For training me and pushing me and calling me out when I’m dogging it,” I say. “This competition means a lot to me. I really want to win that scholarship.”

  “It’s been my pleasure.”

  I quickly kiss him on his damp cheek. “There’s your kiss.”

  “That’s not the kiss I’m talking about,” he says, taking me into his thick cut arms.

  I wiggle away from his grasp.

  “You know, you’re my favorite client,” he says, smirking at me as I stand up.

  “I’m your only client,” I say, rolling my eyes. “So is this really what you’re going to do with your life—become a personal trainer and try to hook up with all your trainees?”

  “I would probably make a lot of money.”

  “Please …”

  “You know I’m good.”

  “Race again?” I say, stretching.

  “So I can let you win a second time?”

  “Oh please.” I playfully punch him in the shoulder.

  Brody unexpectedly takes a turn for the earnest. “What do you say you go to the Luau with me for real? The competition will be over. You’ll be declared the winner. And the rule won’t matter anymore. You can change things.”

  I drop my head. Brody only said exactly what I’d been hoping for, but still, I feel the fun and lightness of the evening being swept away like a dark storm cloud. “Brody …” I pause. “I told you. I can’t.” I stare at the calm pool water.

  Brody lets out a deep breath. “Really, Denise won’t care anymore.”

  “It’s more complicated than that …”

  “What are you talking about? What’s complicated about it?”

  “For one, what if I’m not asked back here next year? They’ll never rehire me if they know about us.”

  “Many other places hire lifeguards.”

  “Not with my friends and my beach.” I wade through the water away from him. “I’m sorry,” I say, my shoulders sinking.

  “Don’t say you’re sorry,” he says, coming up behind me.

  “But I am.” I turn around.

  He lifts up my chin with his finger. “I should be the one saying I’m sorry. I know how much this scholarship means to you. But, after you win, all bets are off and I’ll get you to change your mind.”

  “Doubt it,” I say. But what I mean is Yes, you probably will.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “I still can’t believe we’re going to the Santa Monica Pier tonight. What are we, tourists now?” Missy complains as my teammates from school and I stroll across the wooden overpass that connects the wide pier to Ocean Avenue.

  “Oh, come on. It’s a tradition! We always hit the pier to watch the fireworks,” Kylie reminds Missy.

  Aromas of seafood, pizza, cotton candy, and Mexican food mingle with the salty sea scent as we near the pier. I nibble on my nails, too preoccupied with what happened at yeste
rday’s training session with Brody to truly appreciate a fun Friday night with my B-Dub teammates. Up ahead, Pacific Park’s roller coaster rattles across the tracks. Their world-famous Ferris wheel’s flashing lights brighten the dark sky.

  “I can’t remember the last time I was here,” Missy says as the strong sea breeze tosses her wavy blonde locks. “I think I was six.”

  “Um, Missy, it was last year,” Taylor timidly corrects her.

  “Lame,” Missy says, while checking out her French manicure. “Tell me again why we’re not shopping at the Promenade?”

  “Oh, stop complaining, Miss. It’ll give you wrinkles,” Kylie answers, sagely.

  “You know you secretly love roller coasters,” Amber volunteers from her spot up at the front of the pack.

  “Yeah, as much as you secretly love the bartender from the beach club,” Zoe adds, giggling.

  I notice that she’s wearing a new necklace instead of her matching friendship one—she must have bought it with her babysitting money. Come to think of it, mine is still sitting in my drawer.

  “You got that right. That boy is hot with a capital H!” Missy laughs.

  “Just remember, he’s mine!” Kylie says, hip-checking Missy into a group of incoming joggers and roller bladers.

  Everyone laughs at this, but I’m having a hard time getting into the excitement. I feel like there’s a giant current pulling me away from these girls. But mostly it’s my fault. I still haven’t told them about my training sessions with Brody. I want to, really, but they all have such big mouths—Kylie especially—and I can’t risk confiding in them.

  Their convo continues without my input.

  Missy fires back. “I don’t know Miss Collins. You seem to be claiming a lot of boys lately. I saw you getting down and dirty with one just last night.”

  “Oh. My. God.” Amber turns around from the front of the pack. “Who with?”

  Kylie ignores her. “First off, there’s no getting down and dirty with me. I’ve got class.” She mischievously grins. “But don’t worry, that doesn’t mean I can’t have a little fun ….”

  “Hey, look, you can see the fireworks from here!” Zoe exclaims. As much as Zoe tries to play it cool with Kylie, I know she still feels a little weird about her dating other people besides her brother. Even if she is the first to recognize that Zach is a total jerk.

  “I love fireworks!” Amber echoes Zoe’s enthusiasm.

  Missy rolls her turquoise eyes.

  I can’t muster the appropriate level of elation, so I decide to quietly ask our six-foot basketball starter about her boyfriend. “Where’s Matt?”

  “Working,” Taylor says, gathering up her brown hair in a high ponytail. “He got a summer job working at the medical rehab center his dad is staying at. He wants to be able to keep him company.”

  “Aw … Matt’s such a good guy,” I say.

  Taylor’s cheeks turn the color of cotton candy.

  Just then, Brooke jogs by us, her long brown ponytail trailing behind her.

  “Hey, Brooke!” Kylie shouts.

  Brooke, dressed in Nike shorts and a pink sports bra, turns around and jogs in place. She pulls a white bud out of her ear.

  We all crowd around her.

  “Have you heard from Denise?” Zoe asks.

  “Is she going to let you back on the team?” I add, thinking about my own indiscretions.

  Brooke stops for a second and stretches her quads. “Are you kidding? And even if she offered, I wouldn’t want back on. Getting kicked off that squad was the best thing that happened to me this summer.”

  Wait. What?

  “I’m so over all the stupid rules. I don’t know what I was thinking before, limiting myself because of some job.” Brooke stretches her neck. Then she crosses one arm over the other to get a deep stretch. “Now Greg and I do a whole lot more than just talk, let me tell you.” She winks at us and jogs away.

  We stand in silence for a moment.

  “What was that?” Zoe finally says.

  “She has a point,” Kylie adds, twirling a piece of blonde hair around her index finger. “I don’t know how you guys deal with Denise.”

  I deal with Denise because lifeguarding is my dream job. I would put up with a shark if I had to.

  “Ready for Pacific Park?” Amber walks backward in front of us. Her auburn pony and hair ribbons blow in her face.

  I glance at Zoe. “Race you to the roller coaster.”

  “Wait!” Kylie screeches. “We can’t hit the rides until we eat. I’ve been dying for a meal since softball practice,” Kylie says, stopping in front of the Mariasol Restaurant at the end of the pier. “How about some Mexican?”

  “Mexican food before the rides? No way. I’ll puke my guts up,” Zoe says.

  “Come on,” Kylie whines.

  Missy grabs my arm. “Not before we know the latest.” Then she turns around and stares at me with her cool blue eyes.

  I feel my face heat up. “Err … What?”

  “Abby has become super secretive when it comes to Brody lately,” Zoe exclaims.

  “That’s probably because of that ridiculous rule Brooke was just complaining about,” Kylie adds, tucking a piece of blonde hair behind her ear. “Who does Denise think she is, telling the lifeguards what they can and can’t do after hours?”

  Missy eyes the rest of us knowingly. “Kylie has been giving a lot of thought to after-hours activities lately.”

  “Huh?” says Amber in confusion.

  “Because of her own,” Missy clarifies.

  Kylie saunters along coyly as if there’s no way we’ll be able to get the deets out of her. Clearly, this must have something to do with what she was hinting at a few minutes ago.

  “What have you been doing?” Taylor asks, the bewilderment clear in her voice.

  “More like who.” Missy giggles.

  “Brett Davidson.” Kylie stops mid-stride, raising her eyebrows in triumph.

  “You and Brett Davidson?” Amber’s eyes are the size of the softballs she hurls faster than a car speeding down the freeway at four in the morning.

  “I don’t know how everyone missed Kylie’s slick moves in the lobby at the club last night. She sucked Brett’s face off in front of everyone,” Missy says.

  “You what?” I ask, hoping to keep the attention on Kylie.

  “What Missy said,” Kylie says, her eyes glimmering as she scans the group. She catches sight of Zoe’s wide-eyed expression and, mistaking horror for encouragement, she wraps her arm around my best friend. “Question, Zo?”

  Zoe struggles for something to say. “Uh … how was it?”

  “Oh, it was goooood. Hot and heavy and delicious.” She lets go of Zoe. “I’ll leave the rest to your imagination. Now, let’s grab some grub.”

  “What?!” we all screech.

  “My Brett-kissed lips are sealed,” Kylie smirks.

  “I’m starving for an enchilada,” Taylor says, heading toward the door.

  Amber holds the door for us as we enter Mariasol. I file behind Missy and Kylie, thrilled that I somehow managed to get off so easily. As I’m squeezing inside, a little boy walks into my leg, throwing me back a step. When I regain my balance, Missy stops in front of me suddenly.

  “Is there any room up there, Miss? I can’t move in here,” I ask, getting a whiff of Missy’s Dior perfume.

  “Oh no she didn’t,” Kylie growls under her breath.

  Didn’t what?

  Missy turns around to face me. She’s quickly followed by the rest of my friends.

  “What do you guys think about Bubba Gump instead?” Missy asks, grabbing my arm. She pulls me toward the door I just fought to enter. “I just love their shrimp.”

  “What’s going on?” I ask amid the confusion. Customers dart at me from every direction.

  “Sounds like a great idea.” Zoe nods. She points to the door. “I wasn’t really in the mood for Mexican.”

  “Perfect,” Missy says, pulling me again. Sh
e motions for the other girls to follow us.

  But when Amber moves to the left to join us by the door, I see what they’re all shielding me from.

  From across the restaurant, Brody and I spot each other at the exact same second. His face drains of color. “Abs,” he mouths, looking like he’s spotted a ghost.

  Next to him is a luscious blonde in a cheerleader hoodie. Her arm comfortably snakes around Brody’s bicep.

  Zoe grabs my other arm to steady me. Kylie, meanwhile, puts her arm out in front of me to keep me from lunging at him through the crowd.

  “Are you guys in line?” a man shouts behind us.

  A baby cries.

  My eyes move from Brody to the girl then back to Brody again.

  I bolt down the pier.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Abs, hold up!” Brody’s voice echoes behind me.

  My flip-flops clunk against the uneven planks. The awkward movement causes my feet to slide and graze the rough-hewn wood. For the first time in the last couple weeks, my knee twists and throbs.

  “Abby, wait!” Brody calls out, louder this time.

  I run as fast as I can. Two women pushing strollers look up at me like I’m about to snatch their babies. Behind them, an artist painting a small portrait holds tight to his canvas as I fly past.

  When my feet can’t take the pounding anymore, I duck behind a sign for a souvenir shop. I bend my leg, pulling on my foot and stretching out my quad.

  Seconds later, Brody runs by me. He stops a few feet ahead of where I’m hiding. He squints and surveys his surroundings as his chest vigorously inflates and deflates.

  I turn my head away from him, hoping he won’t spot me.

  “Abby, I can see you, you know,” his voice rings out.

  I sheepishly step out into the open.

  “I take it you never won hide and seek,” he says serenely. “What do you think, if you don’t see me, I can’t see you?”

  “It was worth a try.” I shrug.

  “What’s up with the sprint?” he asks. “Training without me now?”

  I can’t help it. Cynicism creeps into my voice. “Don’t you have a cheerleader you have to hang out with?”

  Brody looks genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”