Megan dropped us off, and we could see that Abby’s Volvo was back in the driveway. After dinner that night Abby and I did the dishes together. She asked me how school was going and I put a positive spin on it, telling her how much I liked my art teacher. She told me about her day getting the car fixed, and asked me more about my swimming lesson with Ethan.
“It was nice having Ethan over last night. We used to see so much more of him right after–” She caught herself, stopping in mid-sentence.
“After what?” I asked.
Abby turned to me, and I could see that she wasn’t sure what to say.
“You can tell me,” I pushed her, a tactic Evie used frequently.
She pressed her lips together, “When Ethan was just a small boy his mother ran off with another man. His father took it very hard. Poor little guy, I could tell he was so sad, just... lost. I mean, his own mother abandoned him.” She shook her head sadly at the thought, “He used to ride his bike over and spend a lot of time here before the boys kinda just went their separate ways.”
“What ever happened to the mom?” I asked.
“Nobody knows,” she said, “She just fell off the radar screen.”
“That’s sad,” I said quietly.
She sighed, “Very… but Ethan turned out nice, as I’m sure you’ve noticed.” She elbowed me and I couldn’t help but laugh, “Uh, yeah.”
“By the way,” she added, “he refused to let me pay him for Saturday. He said it was his pleasure.”
I blushed, and hugged her goodnight.
Lying in bed that night I thought about what had happened at school. By all accounts I should be afraid but I simply wasn’t. The thought of fighting Shayla actually appealed to me. If she did beat me up I could probably get out of going to school easily. I started weighing my options, imagining how horrified my dad would be if he saw the big bruiser coming at me.
I could egg her on as my ticket out of Aptos High, and he’d have to consider letting me go to an online school. Or, it could backfire and get me sent me off to boarding school in England or something. Either way, it would leave Cruz and Megan stuck taking Shayla’s abuse alone, and I felt strangely protective of them. Plus, I wouldn’t see very much of Ethan...
I thought about the sabotage of my purse in art class. Material things simply weren’t terribly important to me, probably because I had always been given so much. Evie dressed me lavishly, indulging my every whim with her vast wealth, but she also used her money to do a whole lot of good, and she was only truly impressed by sheer talent. She went to great lengths to impress upon me that I mustn’t respect people simply because they had money, and would often point out that true friendship, love and loyalty was priceless, and impossible to buy. Still, she loved her expensive things, and laughed that although money couldn’t buy happiness it could certainly be counted on to purchase freedom.
Expensive things were obviously a big deal to the girls at school. Evie’s advice to always dress up in the face of adversity came into focus. I remembered the envy in the girl’s voices as they gossiped about my pricey wardrobe. I smiled to myself. Game on! I would dress to the nines and rub their noses in it. It might be a shallow strategy, but I knew it would aggravate them and the thought delighted me. I got out of bed, slipped on a robe and knocked on Cruz’s door.
“Come in,” he called. He was still up, working on a paper pattern.
“Cruz,” I asked sweetly. “Can I wear that black lace blouse to school tomorrow?” His eyes narrowed, no doubt remembering how I had looked in it. “Oh, you are bad!” He handed me the blouse with a cynical smile.
I laid out the outfit I would wear tomorrow; Cruz’s blouse, along with my most expensive designer jeans and some tall Michael Kors biker boots that looked as ferocious as the top. I dug through my jewelry box, fishing out an outrageous pair of diamond chandelier earrings. I unpacked a quilted patent leather Chanel bag and put my things in it. They called me a freak and they didn’t know just how right they were.
It was time to let my freak flag fly.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SURFING LESSON
The next morning before school I called Evie to ask for a favor. I’d left all of my outrageous designer things in the city, figuring that there wouldn’t be much call for fur lined jackets, thigh-high boots and cocktail dresses in a small beach town like Aptos. I wondered if she would be so kind as to ship some things down to me.
“Do I detect a date coming up?” Evie asked, excited.
“No Evie,” I said. “I’m just thinking about dressing up a little more at school.” She readily agreed, and was only surprised that I hadn’t thought to bring all my clothes originally. After all, as she often said, you never know where you might end up getting invited.
“How are the driving lessons going?” she asked expectantly. I explained that I hadn’t had a chance to get out and drive yet, and that the family car wasn’t always reliable. I promised to practice as soon as I could.
Evie was perturbed, “This is taking entirely too long,” she fussed impatiently. She proceeded to try and pump me for information about my swim lesson with Ethan. I needed to leave for school so I was able to dodge her.
“Thank you Aunt Evie! I love you,” I hung up.
That morning I styled my hair like a rock star and paid special attention to my makeup. I put on the clothes and jewelry I had laid out and stood back to inspect my image. The fresh young school girl had been replaced with a high fashion diva. That’ll do for now, I thought.
“Wow Marina! You look like some kinda celebrity today,” said Abby as I entered the kitchen.
“Thanks Abby, I’m wearing Cruz’s design,” I said as I twirled around.
“The kid is good,” she smiled, her eyes glowing with pride.
Cruz came into the kitchen and did a double take when he saw me, “Whoa! You look like a bad-ass!”
At school I could feel hostile as well as admiring looks from my fellow classmates. The little group of surfer girls and groupies muttered amongst themselves as I passed but made no moves towards me. I could sense Ethan’s watchful eye on me as I moved about campus that day. I had the feeling I was being followed.
I looked away pointedly when the football players tried to make eye contact. Most of the girls at school swooned as the big thick necked brutes strutted down the halls, but I missed the point of all the idolatry. Large well-fed boys battling it out on the field contrasted starkly with the real hunger and desperation I had witnessed growing up. To me, the game just seemed silly and pointless, the boys, stupid.
I was dismayed to look up and see one of them coming straight towards me. He was well over six feet tall, dripping with arrogant attitude. He leaned against the locker next to mine, his huge bulk looming over me.
“You’re new here, aren’t you?” he asked.
“Yes I am,” I replied.
“Aren’t you gonna tell me your name?” he ogled me.
I was surprised at his rudeness, wondering if that approach got him very far with the other girls, “Probably not,” I said flatly, casting him an annoyed look.
He leered at me, “You’re feisty– I like that.”
I closed my locker and left, blocking out the sound of his laughter behind me. Oh yeah Evie, I thought, there were lots of boys here, only most of them were not worth knowing. I looked up to see Ethan walking alongside me, looking down with amusement.
“Nice outfit,” he said, “You look... interesting.”
“Cruz made the top,” I said defensively, uncertain of what he meant. We got to the art room and Ethan followed me over to an empty table. Heather and Jamie pointedly avoided sitting with us. I could feel their hostile eyes on me. I turned to cast them a dirty look.
“Marina...” Ethan murmured a warning.
“What?” I said, feigning innocence.
“Just ignore them.”
“I don’t care what they say about me, I’ll be out of here soon enough. I’d leave right now if it wasn’t
for Cruz and Megan.”
Ethan looked pained, “They’re just a bunch of jealous girls.” That I knew, and I planned to rub their noses in it.
When we got home from school I had lots of math homework so I went straight to my room.
Loud footsteps came pounding down the hall, followed by a fist banging on my door.
“Marina! Marina!” Cruz was practically screeching, “You’re not gonna believe this! Quick–
come out front!”
There was a shiny red sports car parked next to Abby’s Volvo in the driveway. It looked fast just sitting there. A huge man was unloading boxes from a white van parked on the street, and I was confused until he straightened up. I smiled at the familiar mirrored sunglasses and shiny head of the Russian giant.
“Boris!”
“Allo Marina!” he waved, “Evelyn sends me.”
I ran up to give him a hug. It was surprising how good it was to see a familiar face after all the weirdness I’d been through lately. He explained that Evie had called him this morning and asked him to deliver one of her cars to me along with several large boxes of clothes. Boris handed me an envelope that contained a note from Evie along with some car related documents, explaining that he had taken it to the shop and had it serviced that morning.
“She’s real classic,” he said, looking at the car with admiration, “You be drivings careful, sveetheart.” He looked around the neighborhood suspiciously, like he expected someone to jump out of a bush or something. Boris deposited the boxes on the porch, ruffled my hair with his gigantic mitt, handed me the keys and was gone.
Cruz and I looked at each other with enormous grins. I took out the note and read that Evie wanted me to use the car to learn how to drive and get my license as soon as possible. It was signed with a big red lipstick kiss.
“We better go tell Abby,” I said, laughing.
We found her in the garden meditating, and when she stepped out front she didn’t look very tranquil.
“I don’t know about this,” she fretted, “What will you father say?”
“Mom! This is an antique Porsche Targa– it’s like a work of art!” Cruz enthused. “Besides, it’s just on loan, and you know I promised Marina I’d teach her how to drive. You yourself said I was an excellent driver... and it’s insured!”
“Well...” I could see her begin to weaken. She went over to the car and looked in at the pristine black leather interior. “Antique?” she raised her eyebrows, “This was a hot car in my day,” she said with a smile, and I knew we had her.
That night Cruz and I went through the boxes. He was in designer heaven, exclaiming rapturously over each new garment he retrieved. He assigned himself the job of stylist and busied himself laying out my outfits for the week.
“You’re like the Barbie I never had!” he joked.
The next day Cruz drove me to school in the Porsche. Every head in the parking lot turned as we pulled in. Ethan walked over as if he had been waiting for us.
“Nice ride,” he said, walking around the car, “Lemme guess– the rich Aunt?” he smiled, shaking his head.
“Yes, but it’s just on loan,” I was on the defensive, “So I can learn to drive.” He chuckled, “Only you would learn to drive in a car like this.” The rest of the week went by quickly, with driving lessons every day after school. Cruz took me out to an empty lot and I practiced shifting gears, parallel parking and backing up straight. I think I scared him a few times, but I was getting the hang of it. I suspected Cruz was using the lessons to keep me away from the pier, because whenever I started to venture out he insisted it was driving time. I was still determined to meet with Lorelei and began to devise a plan.
Saturday morning finally came, and along with it my first surfing lesson. Ethan arrived early to do yard work and I went outside with him, insisting on helping him rake and pick up clippings. Everyone else thought I was a spoiled rich brat, but for some reason I couldn’t bear the thought of Ethan thinking badly of me. We looked at the surfboards leaning against the side of the house. Ethan explained that the short board was harder to surf, and I’d be better off starting out with a longer one.
“Take both of them and you can keep the short one,” I said.
“I’ll try it,” he said as we loaded them into his truck, “But it’s your board.” We drove out to the same beach as before and parked.
He turned to look at me with serious eyes.
“I’ve spent all week worrying about you getting yourself beaten up. Have you always had such a bad temper?” I laughed until I realized he was serious.
“I’ve never been in a fight in my life!” I protested.
“Then why did you get so fired up?” he asked. I thought about it for a moment, but there was no way to explain it that didn’t sound weird. I felt different, more ferocious somehow, especially where my loved ones were concerned.
“Have you heard the things they say... about Cruz, about Megan... and Abby?” I asked intensely. “I know I’m not... normal, and people think I’m a stupid freak, but I refuse to just sit and ignore it when they talk to my friends like that.”
“You should just let it slide and walk away,” he chided me.
“I can’t just walk away.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I love them,” I said simply.
He was quiet for a moment, then he looked down and away. I remembered what Abby had said about his mom and felt horrible.
I put my hand on his back. “Come on, teach me how to surf,” I said gently.
We hauled the surfboards down to the beach and laid them out on the sand. Ethan started out with a lecture about safety again, stressing that I must never go out alone. He was deadly serious, with none of the lighthearted joking I was used to with him. I agreed to be cautious and tried to be a good student.
I felt a twinge of guilt, because even as I promised to follow all of his safety rules my latest plan was to paddle my board out far enough out so that I could talk to Lorelei in privacy. I felt it would be safe enough on top of a surfboard in a wetsuit. I decided that I could contact her on the ship, change into my suit and swim out to meet with her. I smiled to myself, thinking I’d have some answers soon.
“Are you listening?” Ethan waved a hand in front of my face and I snapped to attention.
“Yes sir!” I said with mock seriousness, satisfied with my plan.
He explained how I needed to find the center of gravity on the board to avoid dipping either the nose or tail down in the water, and showed me how to attach a leash from the board to my ankle to keep it from getting away from me after a fall. He had me practice lying on the board, and showed me how to spring up to my feet in one swift movement.
“Don’t expect to stand up on a wave the first time,” he said, “but don’t get discouraged, if you pick it up like you did swimming, you’ll do just fine.” We slipped into our wetsuits and headed out into some small waves. Ethan showed me how to dive through the wave with a board, dipping the nose to keep it from being pushed back into me. He stressed that the most dangerous thing was getting hit by your own board, and that when I fell I must protect my head with my arms, and stay under just a little longer to let it clear away.
I was surprised at how much there was to know; Ethan always made it look so easy.
Once we got past the breaking waves we started to paddle out, lying on the boards and doing the crawl stroke. I was a little wobbly at first, but I watched Ethan carefully, and tried hard to mimic him. I got out past the wave break and learned how to sit up steadily on the board, laughing as I kept tipping over at first. I felt comfortable with the sensation of being in the water, and I was happier than I’d been all week. My joy must have been infectious, for Ethan finally loosened up and relaxed.
Once I mastered the art of sitting up, I turned to Ethan with a grin, “Let’s have a demonstration.”
He smiled back, and began to paddle hard for the shore. Tensing catlike on the board he easily sprang upright, sur
fing the small wave for a surprising distance before I lost sight of him.
He came swiftly back to my side, sitting up on the board and explaining how to catch a wave. I nodded, trying to remember everything he said. I was distracted by a flash of color out of the corner of my eye. Was that a glint of coppery hair? I scanned the water but saw nothing.
Gathering my courage, I chose a swell that looked promising and started paddling as fast as I could. I could feel the speed of the water pick up and start to carry the board. I managed to get to my feet and stand in a crouch for a few moments before I wobbled and fell. After a little bit of churning in the white water I surfaced and retrieved my board. Ethan came paddling up to check on me and I waved him off, ready to try again.
“Nice start,” he called over. “Next time try putting your arms out more.” I took his advice and each time I tried I got better and better. Finally I managed to actually stay on my feet, drop down onto a good sized wave and surf across it diagonally, staying just ahead of the breaking crest. I paddled back out, smiling triumphantly. It was as fun as it looked, and I was feeling so good I forgot about mermaids and school and everything but just being happy.
Ethan came over to me, “You’re doing great! You learn fast.” I sat up on my board next to him in the water with a big smile.
“I think I need a rest,” I said, panting to catch my breath. My legs were getting a little unsteady, and my arms felt like wet noodles. We sat quietly astride our surfboards, enjoying a moment of calm and the rhythmic rise and fall of the incoming swells. It had been another perfect day, just me, Ethan and the sea.
“We should head in,” he said.
I smiled at him affectionately, “Thanks so much…That was fun.” I looked down at my board and was surprised to see the water surrounding us filled with light reflecting from sleek, shining bodies. The sea churned and splashed. It was a pod of dolphins! They started leaping and diving in a tight circle around us, twisting in the air as if they were trying to make eye contact with me. I looked over at Ethan and saw his blue eyes filled with wonder. The dance continued for several minutes until I started to laugh out loud. All at once the dolphins leapt in unison and disappeared underwater in complete synchronization.
Derrolyn Anderson - [Marinas Tales #1] - Between The Land And The Sea Page 13