“It’s true,” Leo said, stepping away from the bar and toward Mark McCormick. “I did most of the organizing and setting up.”
“I helped, too,” Sara confessed. Chelsea was shocked that her perfect half sister would admit to such a breach of trust.
“And having a pool party was my idea to begin with,” Sebastian added.
“Well.” Mark McCormick’s eyes still flashed as he looked around the room, but Chelsea could tell from the way his jaw loosened under his beard that he wasn’t as angry as he’d been just a few moments before. “I’m not thrilled about you kids choosing to have a party here. You could have done a lot of damage and put Glitterlake at a huge risk both with safety and finances. I intend for your actions to have consequences.”
Chelsea held her breath as her dad paused either for dramatic effect or to figure out how he was going to go about punishing the entire staff. He had always been pretty tough on her when she broke the rules. The winter she was five, he had caught her crayoning on the wall of her bedroom, and not only had he taken away her crayons for a whole year, but he’d also made her help them repaint the walls, which had been fun for about ten minutes until her little arms got tired. This time it was far worse, though. She’d betrayed his trust. And it felt terrible—with or without punishment.
Her dad stroked his beard. The whole staff seemed to be holding its breath. “Now that we’ve got these plant walks going, I’ve been meaning to get around to repairing the Breakneck Ridge Trail,” her dad murmured as if thinking out loud. Chelsea, Leo, and a few of the other longtime staffers groaned softly. The Breakneck Ridge Trail snaked up the side of Eagle Mountain, a steep series of switchbacks gaining over a thousand feet in elevation before running along the ridge for two and a half miles and descending down the other side. The trail had fallen into disrepair over the last few years from heavy erosion, and the McCormicks hadn’t bothered to fix it, choosing instead to focus on the easier trails, family recreation, and the water sports program. The last time Chelsea had been up there, the trail had been a mess, rocky and uneven, with several trees fallen across it. Repairing it would be a nightmare.
“Yup.” Her dad reached into the back pocket of his well-worn Wranglers for the small notebook he always carried around. “I’m going to take down the names of everyone here—and you are going to have that trail tourist-ready by the weekend rush on Friday. It’s a lot of work, but I’m sure that if all of you are willing to put this much work into a party, you’ll be more than happy to give your all to a trail that everyone can enjoy. Right?”
Everyone tried to sound like they hadn’t just been assigned to five days of hard labor in the hot, high-altitude sun as they murmured their agreement.
“Good.” Mark McCormick seemed pretty proud of his idea. He had the beginnings of a smile on his lips and the flashes of anger in his eyes had almost turned to twinkles. “Now, let me start taking down names.”
Chapter Thirteen
In Chelsea’s dream, she was jumping on a trampoline in the middle of the lake. Each time she jumped, she went higher and higher in the air, and with every jump she was able to do more complex inverts and rolls. She looked out over the lake and saw another boat about a hundred feet away. The boat also had a trampoline on it, and Todd was jumping up and down on that trampoline. Every time Chelsea came down, he sprang up. She could tell he was trying to outdo her and she didn’t want to let him, so she decided to try the hardest move in wakeboarding history. As she got ready to spring into the air, Todd yelled to her and pointed down at the water below them. He said something, but she couldn’t hear.
“What?” she called out to him.
Todd’s voice sounded very far away and very panicked. “Sharks!” he cried.
Chelsea had already jumped into the air, but when she turned upside down on the first invert, she could see the fins circling beneath her. She overcompensated and was falling toward shark-infested waters!
“Chelsea, Chelsea, Chelsea…,” Todd called after her as she was about to smack down onto the surface.
“Chelsea!” Chelsea awoke with a start, the blankets twisted in a mess around her sweaty body. Someone was knocking on the door to her room, calling her name. Outside her window, the sky was still the steel-gray color of dawn. “Chelsea, time to get up.”
Chelsea sat up and rubbed her head, which ached and felt full of fuzz, probably from the cup of “pool punch” the night before. “Mom, it’s July,” she protested. “I don’t need to be up for school until September.”
“Your dad wanted all of you to get an early start on the Ridge,” her mom explained. “He’s at the barracks waking up the rest of the staff right now. Don’t forget to wear your work boots!”
She has got to be kidding. Chelsea dragged herself out of bed. But she knew her mom wasn’t kidding. She grabbed an old pair of jeans and her cruddiest Tahoe Half-Pipe Cruisers T-shirt and pulled them on, padding to the bathroom to brush her teeth. She knew there was no point in showering—she would just smell like a horse’s rear end by noon. And probably feel like one, too. Well, even more than she already did.
Downstairs, even Sara looked like she was dragging. She wordlessly slid a box of Honey Nut Crunch across the table to Chelsea, who dumped it in a bowl, poured milk over it, and began crunching.
“Well, girls!” Their dad came into the kitchen looking as refreshed and jubilant as if he hadn’t been up half the night busting his teenage daughter’s illicit pool party. “Ready to work?”
“Sure,” Sara said, trying for her usual bright tone and falling slightly flat.
“Do we have a choice?” Chelsea grumbled.
“You did,” her dad said diplomatically, “when you decided to take the keys to the spa and throw that little soiree of yours. That’s when you made your choice.”
“Dad,” Chelsea said, willing herself not to cry. She got up and rinsed her bowl, then walked over to her father and looked him in the eye. “I really am sorry.”
Mark McCormick chuckled a bit. “Not as sorry as you will be. Hey, Chelsea, can I talk to you for a second?” her father asked, walking out to the porch.
Chelsea followed him, nervous about what he could have to say. She stood at the railing, looking over the misty lake reflecting the bright early-morning sunlight. “What’s up?” she asked.
“Chelsea, you know I’m disappointed in you,” her dad began, putting his hands in his pockets. He turned to face her.
“Dad, I know I—,” she began. She felt horrible for letting her dad down and couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him looking so angry and hurt.
“No, let me finish,” he said sternly. “Chelsea, your mother and I have been talking and I…we…we don’t think that you should see Sebastian anymore. I know you’ll be in contact with him here at the resort, but we would prefer it if you didn’t date him.”
“What!” Chelsea was shocked. Of all the things that her dad could have said—that she couldn’t compete, that he didn’t want her to teach, that she was grounded, even!—she never expected him to say this. She put her hands on the railing and watched her knuckles turn white. “Dad, this has nothing to do with Sebastian!” she said, hearing her voice rise.
“Chelsea, there is no negotiating here. This is not a discussion. We just don’t think he’s a good influence. Really, Champ, this is for the best,” he said, looking at Chelsea and putting his hand on her shoulder. “Now get ready to go.”
Chelsea refused to look at her father and stared out over the water for a few more minutes, seething. How dare they! Chelsea stormed back inside, slamming the door. Now she was actually looking forward to getting out on the trail. At least it would let her work out some of her anger.
“Wow, Dad can be a real slave driver,” Sara said as they trudged toward the Breakneck Ridge trailhead. Chelsea’s stomach dropped. It was really disconcerting to hear someone else refer to her father as “Dad.”
“I guess he just wants there to be consequences for doing the wrong t
hing.” Even though she was really angry with him, she still felt like she had to defend him.
“No, it’s good,” Sara said quickly. “I mean, he’s really fair. Not like…Well, some parents will punish you for all the wrong things but then also kind of let you get away with murder.”
Chelsea didn’t want Sara to praise her dad. Chelsea already knew he was fair. He always did the right thing. He had always been the best dad, and she had always been the best daughter she could. Until now. She looked miserably at her hiking shoes.
“Hey,” Sara said as they neared the trailhead, interrupting Chelsea’s thoughts. She slowed down her pace a little, so that Chelsea had no choice but to slow down to match her. “I wanted to tell you—it was really cool the way you stood up to Dad last night.” Sara’s words came out in a rush. It was the first time Chelsea had ever seen her embarrassed.
“You mean when I told him that I took the keys?” she asked. Just remembering the moment made her cringe.
“Well, that, yeah,” Sara said. “But I mean, not just that. All of it. Like when you said it’s normal to kiss boys, and when you offered to take the blame for everything and just…the way you wouldn’t let Sebastian lie to save your butt. It was really cool.”
“Thanks,” Chelsea said slowly. She was touched by Sara’s praise and didn’t know what else to say.
“Sure.” And then they were at the trailhead with all the rest of the summer staff, who rubbed their eyes and complained softly as they sorted through piles of gear.
“Let’s hear it for the guests of honor!” Leo called with faux-cheery sarcasm as they approached, and the rest of the staff burst out in half-ironic applause. “As the moron who threw the party together and provided the refreshments, I’ve also been tasked with heading up the trail crew. Chelsea, I put together a pack especially for you.” He bent down and picked up an enormous canvas sack bursting with the heavy steel rebar pieces that were used to prevent erosion up on the trails. “We’ll be starting at the top of the ridge and working our way back down. Enjoy.”
“Ouch, Leo…rebar?” she asked. “Up all those switchbacks?”
“Here, take this, too,” Leo said, handing her a heavy iron pickax. “You can strap it to the side of the pack.”
“You have got to be kidding me,” Chelsea groaned.
“Um…are you the one who stole the keys?” Leo asked. “Was it your dad who caught you in a red-hot lip-lock in the Jacuzzi?” Chelsea’s face turned scarlet. Leo grinned and punched her lightly on the arm. “Chill out, sport,” he laughed, and leaned closer to her. “That’s not why you’re carrying the rebar. You’re doing it because you’re the toughest mofo at Glitterlake and you won’t start complaining halfway up. Oh, one more thing—you’ll be working with Todd. Have fun!”
By the end of the day, Chelsea’s shoulders ached from swinging the pick and pounding rebar into the trail. In between bouts of attacking the rocky soil with all the strength her upper body could muster, Chelsea gulped water and stared at the way Todd’s muscles flexed each time he heaved the heavy tool into the earth.
Everyone was in a pretty grouchy mood, but her day brightened a little when her mom showed up around lunchtime with peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches and lemonade made from scratch. Then things got even better when Todd stripped off his sweat-soaked T-shirt and handed Chelsea a bottle of Bug n’ Sun SPF 15, casually asking if she would do his back.
Chelsea tried not to linger too long on each of the depressions between his perfect muscles, but his skin under her hands was way more pleasant than anything she had ever felt—including making out with Sebastian. She stroked sunscreen into the taut, tan sides of his lower back. She was sure by the time she finally dragged her hands away that Todd was going to turn her around and accuse her of sexually harassing him. But instead he just muttered something that sounded like “Don’t stop.”
“What?” Chelsea wondered if she had misheard.
“Nothing.” Todd turned around and gave her a lopsided grin. “Hey, you may want to put some on your nose—it’s starting to look red.”
Chelsea squeezed a big white blob of sunscreen onto her finger and started smearing it onto her nose. When she looked up at Todd, he was chuckling.
“What’s so funny this time?” she asked, feeling irritated. She hated being laughed at—and she was still feeling especially sensitive after last night.
“You look like Bozo the Clown,” Todd sputtered. He reached out and tweaked her nose with his finger, then turned it around to show her all the sunblock that hadn’t rubbed in.
“Hey, how come you two aren’t working?” a voice boomed from down the trail. Mark McCormick lumbered into view, his face red and sweaty from the climb in the mid-afternoon sun.
“We were just taking a water break, sir,” Todd explained.
“You two didn’t sign on to be slackers when you decided to throw that little shindig last night, did you?” His words sounded firm, but Chelsea’s dad was smiling.
Chelsea and Todd shook their heads.
“Well, I don’t want to see you start now. Grab your picks and get to work!” Mark stood over them as they sheepishly picked up their tools and started chipping at the hard soil alongside the trail. By the time Chelsea turned around, her father was gone…and Todd had stopped working again and was leaning on his pick, staring at her.
“What?” she asked, suddenly feeling as exposed in her work boots and T-shirt as she had in her bikini the night before.
“So…what’s up with you and Sebastian?” Todd asked.
“What do you mean, what’s up?” Chelsea couldn’t believe she was finally getting to turn the tables on Todd. Todd, who always dated the prettiest tourists at Glitterlake while she had nobody and had to settle for only getting to hang out with him out on the water.
“Well…,” Todd shifted from foot to foot. Even his uncomfortable shifting was graceful. “I mean, I was with you guys in the Jacuzzi last night. Have you been, like, together for a while?”
“Nothing’s going on, really…,” she said mysteriously. If the thought of Chelsea dating Sebastian got under Todd’s skin the way it looked like it did, Chelsea was not going to let a little thing like getting in trouble keep her from pursuing him. Sebastian, that is.
Todd gave her a funny, crooked little smile. “You’re acting weird.”
Chelsea wanted to tell him that if she was acting weird, it was only because she’d spent so many years longing for him that it had stunted her emotional development as far as relationships were concerned. Now she was making up for lost time with Sebastian—who just happened to be gorgeous. And to have a hot accent. But of course, there was no way she could tell Todd that. Fortunately, Leo interrupted the moment by barreling up to them, clapping his hands and whistling.
“Time’s up!” he called. “Go home, wash off the grime, and I don’t want to see you until tomorrow.” Without waiting for a reply, he took off toward the next group of workers farther up the trail.
Todd and Chelsea looked at each other and cracked up.
“So,” Chelsea said as her giggles subsided, “want to hit the lake?”
“Well…,” Todd replied, leaning on his pick, still smiling his cute half smile. “I’ve been doing heavy manual labor all day, I’m exhausted, every muscle in my body aches, and now you want to go exercise some more?”
“But it’s not work,” Chelsea pleaded. “It’s play!”
Todd’s smile widened, and he leaned in closer to her. Her head swam as she breathed in his sexy scent of sunscreen and sweat, and for one dizzying moment she thought he was going to kiss her. Instead, he moved to the side and whispered in her ear. “I like the way you think,” he said as he turned and started running down the mountain. “Last one to the dock has to drive first!”
As Chelsea watched Todd in the rearview mirror, she couldn’t help being amazed at the way he moved gracefully in and out of the wake. She had spent hours and hours of her life watching the pros and semi-pros board in per
son, on DVD, and on YouTube, and Todd was not the best. He wasn’t the strongest, the lightest, or the fastest, and he certainly didn’t jump the highest or do the splashiest grabs.
But Chelsea had always thought that Todd was the most capable of making wakeboarding a beautiful sport. His body moved with grace and precision; he had a perfect economy of movement and always seemed to know exactly where he was going and what he was doing. Even if he ended up on his butt, his body just flowed. He soared through the air, hovering over the water before coming back down in a perfect white spray of foam. Every move was precise, deliberate, and incalculably beautiful, and watching him made Chelsea’s chest tighten with both admiration and longing. It was like she was falling in love with him all over again.
Which she just couldn’t allow herself to do. It would hurt too much. It already did.
“Good ride,” Chelsea complimented him when he returned to the boat and stripped his wetsuit down to his waist.
“Thanks.” Todd leaned over her to get a towel, and his hair fell forward, dripping water onto her arm.
“Sorry,” he murmured, smiling almost shyly as he offered her the towel to dry off.
“It’s cool.” Chelsea could barely meet his eyes. “I’ll be soaked in a minute anyway.”
“True,” Todd acknowledged. “Hey, did you see that triple handle pass I pulled earlier? How’d it look?”
“All right,” Chelsea said, smiling.
Todd playfully rolled the towel into a rattail and swatted it at her butt. “All right, yourself,” he grumbled. “You get out there and try to top me!”
Plunging into the cool, clean lake water after a long day in the sun was almost more refreshing than her easy banter with Todd. Maybe he really does like me after all, Chelsea thought as she swam out into the wake and found her footing atop the board. Maybe we can be more than just competitors…maybe we can even be more than just friends. But wait…what was she thinking? She already had a boyfriend, and Sebastian was great. He was certainly nicer to her than Todd had ever been—even when she and Todd were getting along, it was more because those were the times she could tolerate his rough teasing. He treated her more like a kid sister than like a potential girlfriend, so why did her hormones always go into overdrive when he was around? Chelsea shook her head and wished she could eliminate boys from her mind. This was her precious time out on the water, and she intended to make the most of it.
Waking Up to Boys Page 8