Mom stopped at a light and twisted sideways to look her full in the face. “Outside things change. Wait ten years and then look at your shoe collection. You’ll be horrified.”
“My shoe collection is nothing but skate shoes.”
“Okay, that one applies more to me. The things I’ve unearthed living with my mom again . . .” Mom winked at her. “Anyway. Who you are at your core? That fierce, driven, sensitive girl is still there. And I think I’m the same too. I just found different ways to express myself.”
“Different can be good.”
“It can.” Mom shifted her hands on the wheel. “Grandma told me you’re thinking about staying with her.”
“Yeah.”
“Is there . . .” Mom cleared her throat. “Are you uncomfortable with me and Pete? I mean, that’s why I moved us in with my mom instead of moving in with him right away. I don’t want this to be weird for you.”
“It’s going to be weird,” Summer said. “I mean, you’re my mom. The idea of you falling in love, especially with someone who isn’t my dad, is never going to stop being weird.”
“But you’re still thinking about staying with Grandma?”
“I don’t want to move again.” She leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. “I want to settle. And I want you and Pete to build your life. In like a year and a half I’ll be done with high school and I’ll move out anyway. So go be newlyweds.”
“We’ll talk about it. After we make sure your head is okay.”
“Sure.” Summer let silence fall between them and dug her phone out again.
Her single I’m sorry glared back, unanswered. Unread.
“Everything okay?”
She scrolled through her texts. “No . . . I just thought . . . Bastian hasn’t texted me since Friday night. He hasn’t even read my last text.”
“Maybe he knew you were at the spa?”
“I don’t know. I screwed up so bad.”
“Oh, Keiki.” Mom squeezed her knee.
“It’s my mistake,” Summer said, but her voice stuck in her throat. She looked up at the house as Mom pulled up to the driveway. For the first time, her heart picked up a little at the sight of it. It almost, for a second, felt like it could be home. “I’ll run in and get Dad.”
Summer stepped into the entry of the house, turning toward the muffled conversation coming from the living room. Dad’s warm voice and Grandma’s crisp tone mingled together.
“It’s not your fault, you know,” Grandma said.
Summer froze with her hand still on the door.
“I don’t know about that,” Dad said.
“None of the Caldwells have ever dealt well with failure. You’ve always bounced back when you fall down. Rachael was the one to put her head down and take it.”
“I should have helped Summer more, been more involved.”
“You did your best.”
“Thanks.” A chair creaked. “That means a lot from you.”
“You know, Cody,” Grandma said, her voice softening. “I’d do it again. Even if I knew exactly what would happen with you and Rachael, I’d welcome you into our lives a hundred times again. You’re a good man. You’re a good father.”
“I’m trying.”
Summer shut the door, alerting them both to her presence, before stepping into the living room.
“Hey!” Dad grinned at her. “You ready?”
“Sure.” Summer grimaced. “Running on a treadmill and neurological tests I’ll probably fail is my favorite way to spend Thanksgiving break.”
Dad squeezed her shoulder. “You’ll do great.”
“I hope.”
“How are you feeling?” Grandma asked. The arm of the couch creaked as she settled on it and brushed the hair back from Summer’s face.
“Exhausted.” Two hours of running and staring at computer screens to answer questions designed to scramble her already scrambled brain and she could hardly keep her eyes open.
“The doctors need to be sure it’s safe for you to start training again.” Grandma smiled. “Your parents said you did good.”
“Not good enough. At least another week until I can get on a board.”
Grandma nodded. In the darkened living room, she was little more than a silhouette. “Maybe that’s okay. You push yourself too hard.”
“I’m afraid to stop.”
“I know.” She shifted to look down at Summer. “Your parents also said you’re seriously thinking about staying with me after the wedding.”
“If you still want me.” Summer covered her eyes with her hand, blocking out the little bit of light coming through the gauzy curtains.
“Of course.” Grandma sighed. “It’s been too empty since Grandpa passed. I’ve loved having you here with me. I’ve missed out on too much of your childhood.”
“I’m not a kid anymore.”
“No.” Grandma bent to kiss her forehead. “No, you’re not.”
“But I like it here. Pete’s house is farther from school and my friends and the skate park. Besides, I don’t need to watch him and Mom make out.”
Grandma chuckled. “Then it’s settled. I’m about to make myself some dinner. Can I get you anything? Or light the fire for you?”
“I’m okay.” She hesitated, pausing to squelch the panic rising in her chest again. “Bastian hasn’t stopped by or called or anything, has he?”
“I don’t think so, sweetheart, but I’ll check my voice mail just in case.”
Grandma left the room and Summer immediately picked up her phone again. Her heart sank further, but she typed out can we talk? and hit send before exhaustion completely pulled her under.
Chapter 30
“Summer Girl.”
The familiar voice brought a smile to Summer’s face, but she kept her eyes closed, holding on to the dream while she could. She burrowed deeper into Grandma’s fluffy couch.
“Wake up. I didn’t drive all this way to watch you sleep.”
She reluctantly opened one eye and then shot up. “Tobey!” She launched herself into his chest.
“In the flesh.” He wrapped his arms around her.
“What are you doing here? Where’s Lola?”
“I thought this would be a nice surprise,” Mom said, coming in from the kitchen.
“You and your dad need backup for this wedding thing,” Tobey said. “And we need some warmer water. Dude, it is brutal up north right now and I am not ready for booties. These toes aren’t meant to be caged.”
“This is awesome!” Summer looked between her mom and her friend. “How did you guys pull this off? Don’t you have the shop?”
“Skipper has it under control.” He squeezed her to his chest and nearly picked her up off the couch in a bear hug. “Sweet Sunshine, it is good to see you!”
She looked up at his familiar face and suddenly Oceanside didn’t feel like home anymore. The giant hole left by her old life opened up, rawer than before. “How long are you here?”
“Just the week. But I already talked your mom into letting you hang out with us for most of it.”
“Go,” Mom said. “Have fun. You’re on break from school, so it’s not like you’re missing anything hanging out with me here.”
“No way! Do you guys have the Airstream here?”
“You know it.” Tobey grinned. “Down on the beach, loaded up with boards.”
Summer grinned. “Let me get dressed.”
“Why? Don’t you want to hit the waves?”
Summer tapped her head. “Still too scrambled. I’m only at like eighty percent of my normal response times.”
“Oh, suck.” Tobey deflated, broad shoulders slumping.
“I’ll watch you guys. I’ll be fine.”
“We have tons to catch up on anyway. Like why you haven’t called in forever.”
“Just take it easy.” Mom kissed her cheek. “And be back before eleven.”
“Give me fifteen minutes,” Summer said to Tobey, rising unsteadily
from the couch.
“Five.”
“Ten?”
He sighed. “Fine. I don’t know what takes girls so long.”
Summer tweaked one of his dreads. “Yeah, because you don’t have to wash your hair.”
He grinned. “Low maintenance is my specialty.”
Summer squeezed him one more time before rushing up the stairs as fast as her healing body would allow. She made it back in seven minutes, throwing her still-wet hair into a ponytail on her way down the stairs.
“Ready?”
Tobey took Summer by her shoulders, stretching out his arms to take her in. “You look real good, Summer Girl.”
“I did just spend the weekend at the spa.”
“No, it’s more than that.” He waved his fingers in front of her face. “There’s something in your eyes.”
She couldn’t keep her grin in check. “I don’t know. Maybe Oceanside isn’t so bad.”
“Come down to the trailer. I want to hear all about it.”
“Hey, Lo!” Tobey shouted as they neared the Airstream. The shiny silver trailer stood on the sand, unhitched from his truck. “Look who I found!”
“Summer?” The older girl jumped up. “I thought you were looking for Cody?”
“This girl went and got herself a boyfriend,” Tobey proclaimed.
“We leave you alone for a few weeks and you find a boy?”
Summer took the beer Tobey handed her, but it felt heavy in her hand. Seven months of sobriety and she hadn’t really missed a thing. She turned it in her hand before setting it aside.
Blissful oblivion didn’t seem so blissful anymore. While doing time in Oceanside, she’d stumbled against a hard truth: forgetting the bad meant forgetting the good too. She’d found too many good things to crave oblivion anymore.
“Sebastian,” she said. “He’s a senior. A killer photographer.”
“Yes, but let’s get to the important stuff,” Tobey said, settling into a folding chair. “Does he ride?”
She shook her head. “Doesn’t surf. Doesn’t skate.”
“So what do you guys do?”
Lola slapped his arm and swiped his beer. “What do you think, Tobe?”
Heat rose in Summer’s cheeks and she dipped her head. Somehow she didn’t think they’d appreciate the time he spent volunteering at the hospital or the half a dozen times he’d brought over games while she recovered from the concussion or the hundreds of tiny things he did at school to make her feel like she mattered. Tobey and Lola wouldn’t understand what it was like to stare into someone’s eyes and feel like entire universes dwelled in their depths.
Maybe that’s why they were content to self-medicate their lives away.
“So what about you guys?” she said. “How’s the shop?”
“Same old,” Tobey said. “It’s the slow season, so we took off.”
“This guy left Skipper in charge,” Lola said, rolling her eyes. “We’ll be lucky if it’s still standing when we get back.”
“You’re not drinking,” Tobey said, tapping his bottle against Summer’s.
“Oh.” She looked down at the green glass and swirled the liquid inside. “Yeah. I haven’t. Not since . . .”
“Seriously?” Lola plucked the bottle out of her hand and chugged half of it down before handing it back. “You’re going to let that ruin your life? How many DUIs have you had now, Tobe?”
He screwed up his face and ticked off some numbers on his fingers. “At least three. The trick is to get a good lawyer.”
Her stomach swirled. “That’s just not . . . okay.”
“It’s no biggie.” Lola crossed her arms. “Don’t tell me you got sober and now you get to make us feel bad? What did your mom do to you?”
“No! No. It’s just—” She pulled her legs onto her chair. “I don’t know. I have to be really careful or the doctors aren’t going to let me back on the ramp. I have to get back out there. Drinking’s not worth it.”
Lola rolled her eyes. “I’m going to paddle out for a bit. You guys can wallow in your collective remorse.”
“Lo,” Tobey called after her, but he didn’t get up. “Don’t mind her. She’s just mad because we got in too late to catch any actual waves. She’s a freaking fish. You know.”
“Right.” Summer scuffed the toe of her shoe against the sand, and then looked up at her friend. In the glow of the late afternoon, his dark scruff stood out against his brown skin, but hid the bright green of his eyes. She’d always seen him as invincible, unchanging. Now she recognized a heaviness to his shoulders and lines around his eyes.
“Are you happy, Tobey?”
He shrugged. “I’ve got an awesome job. I get to ride every day. I’ve got a girl like Lola. What else could I want?”
“But are you happy?”
“I never really think of it like that. I just live, you know?”
She nodded. She knew exactly what he meant, but she didn’t get it.
Maybe that was what made the difference between someone like Tobey and someone like her dad. Tobey lived to surf, but none of the rest of it mattered. Dad always wanted to do better, to be better. He was an athlete. Tobey was a surfer.
Summer had always believed she was like her friends. She’d seen their obsession and mistaken it for dedication.
It had taken nearly losing skating—twice—to wake her up. But sitting there, with her head clear and her heart exposed, she wanted more than to chase the next high, either on a board or from something else.
“I wish you wouldn’t drink like this, Tobey,” she said.
“I drive better after a couple of beers than most people do sober.”
The memory of the guardrail, caught in the headlights of her car, flashed before her and she shuddered. “I’m serious.”
He tilted his half-empty bottle and ran his thumb over the label. “How can I say no to you, Summer Girl?” He looked sideways at her, his mouth curled up into a smile. “I’ll be more careful.”
“I miss you just living a couple of hours apart. I can’t imagine life without you in it.”
If the officer hadn’t pulled her over, would she have hit something? Would she be there? Would Tobey?
“I’m not planning on checking out any time soon.” He tossed the bottle, still a quarter full, into the sand. It embedded upright a few feet away. “Don’t worry about Lo either. She’s just been weird since you left.”
Summer glanced out at the ocean, where the other girl straddled her board, bobbing gently on the water. “She’s never liked anyone telling her what to do.”
“Tell me about it.” He tapped his foot against hers. “So this boy of yours? Does he treat you right?”
“He does.” She grinned like an idiot and didn’t even care. “He’s so smart, Tobe. And good. Like his heart is so good. I don’t know. I don’t know what he sees in me, but when he looks at me, it’s like I’m all that matters in the world.”
“That’s the kind of boy you deserve.” He shook his head, scattering his dreads. “You’re not like us. You’re something else. That’s why we look out for you. You’re like this light none of us want to see go out.”
She laughed. “You’re drunk, aren’t you?”
He held his fingers an inch apart. “Maybe a little. But that doesn’t mean we don’t love you. You’re our pet skater.”
“You’re ridiculous, Tobey Kaeho.”
“And you’re too precious for this world, Summer O’Neill.”
She leaned back in her chair, drinking in the salt air and the seagulls’ cries. Other moments, spent with a different boy, drifted through her mind. Bastian’s warmth against the cool air. His voice mingled with the waves.
Fierce, almost violent, determination rose in her chest, pushing her forward.
She’d gotten a do-over. Now she had to do something with it. Now she had to fight for the future she wanted, and that future included Bastian.
“I need to go,” she said.
“Hmmm?” Tobey
sat up, focused his eyes on her and shrugged. “You gotta do what you gotta do.”
With a long, slow exhale, she pushed up from the chair and wrapped her arms around Tobey’s neck, breathing in his sea-salt-and-patchouli aroma.
“It’s good to see you,” she said into his hair. “Bye, Tobey.”
“Not good-bye. We’ll be here for a few days.”
“Sure.” She smiled at him, but for the first time, she knew the past was just that: done and gone.
He picked up his beer again. “Hei kona rā,” he said, muttering the familiar Maori phrase for good-bye before tipping back the bottle.
Chapter 31
Summer skipped up the front steps of her grandmother’s house, spurred on by resolution. She had to talk to Bastian. She had to fix what she had broken.
Pausing at the front door, she dug out the hide-a-key and let herself in. “Mom?”
“There you are.” Mom came in from the living room and grabbed her hands, dragging her back toward the door. “Mrs. Vega is here.”
“Bas’s mom is here? Is he okay? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know, but she said it’s urgent.”
“Oh, God.” Summer broke free from Mom’s hands, careening into the living room and sliding to a stop.
Mrs. Vega sat perched on the edge of the couch. With her ankles crossed and her feet tucked to the side, she was the picture of discomfort against the overstuffed softness of Grandma’s living room. She clasped her hands, garish nails catching the light cast by the lamps on the side tables.
“Have you heard from him?” Mrs. Vega asked. Even her perfect makeup couldn’t hide the way stress carved hollows around her eyes.
“Is he okay?” Summer’s heart pounded in her chest. Too late, too late, too late.
“He hasn’t called you?”
Summer shook her head. “Nothing since the game on Friday.”
“He never came home last night.” Mrs. Vega stood. “It’s because of you, isn’t it?”
“Excuse me?” Summer reeled backward.
“We had another ER run Friday night. Compartment syndrome.”
“When pressure builds up in part of the body and cuts off the blood supply,” Summer said, recalling her research. “Usually because of bleeding after an injury. When did he hurt himself?”
The Trick to Landing Page 17