Surface

by Jody Morse

  “Just because you don’t care what Phorcys thinks doesn’t mean I don’t,” the first voice said. This time, I thought there was a sense of hurt—betrayal, almost—in the girl’s voice, and I wondered why. “He’s going to be really pissed over this. We promised him this wouldn’t happen again. Do you really want to make us look bad?”

  “You know that I have my own thoughts about that,” the girl-who-sounded-like-Scarlett shot back. “Phorcys is a God damn hypocrite. From now on, I’m doing things my way.”

  There was a long pause, and I heard a whooshing sound. Someone had put the fire out. The sound of feet crunching over the brush echoed through the forest, but they weren’t coming towards me. They were walking away.

  Suddenly, I began to feel tired—so incredibly tired. The last thing I felt was my head nodding - the way it did when I was trying to stay awake during a boring Math class lecture— before everything went black.

  Chapter 9

  “Are we really going to start making a habit out of this?” a familiar voice asked, and I bolted upright. Tyler was sitting on the ground next to me, running a hand over his short brown hair with a confused look on his face. Glancing around, I confirmed what I already knew.

  I was lying in the sand in front of the lighthouse. Again.

  “I don’t understand this,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I don’t think I sleepwalked . . . I went to bed at home, and I had a really weird dream. And then I woke up here.” Was it possible that any of my dream had been real?

  Obviously, I hadn’t been on an island in the middle of nowhere. But maybe I really had heard two people—two girls—talking. Maybe they had something to do with why I had woken up here. It was the only logical explanation I could come up with.

  I turned to Tyler, realizing something. “Why is it that you’re always here?” I asked. “Every time I wake up here, you’re here, too. It’s got to be really late.”

  Tyler shrugged. “I asked if you wanted to come to the beach with me. And I told you what happened last time. I forgot to lock the lighthouse door. It’s as simple as that.” He raised an eyebrow at me as though he knew what I had been trying to imply—that he was somehow responsible for me ending up here.

  Even though I was feeling delusional, to say the least, I knew that it wasn’t Tyler’s fault. It’s not like he had somehow gotten inside my Gram’s house and dragged me here. It might be the middle of the night, but someone in this crowded beach town would have noticed a boy practically kidnapping a girl from her bedroom.

  No, I had definitely gotten here all on my own. I just couldn’t figure out how.

  “Come on,” Tyler said, extending his hand and pulling me to my feet. “I’ll walk you home.”

  We walked in silence, mostly because I was so lost in thought about what had happened. Once we reached my front door, I turned to Tyler. “Thank you for walking me home. I’m sorry you keep finding me like this.”

  “Don’t be silly. I’m happy to walk you home.” Tyler gave me a small smile, and I tried to push away the thought that he was beginning to think negatively of me. If he really saw me in a bad light, I doubt he would have bothered walking me home at all.

  “So, um, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” I asked, looking into his eyes.

  Tyler nodded, and he took a step closer to me. I was sure that he was going to lean in and kiss me, but instead, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close.

  His embrace wasn’t that strong, but it didn’t feel weak either. His skin felt warm, a stark contrast to my own clammy skin.

  It didn’t seem as though either one of us wanted to pull away. His arms felt safe and comforting.

  “Goodnight, Felicia,” Tyler whispered into my ear before finally untangling himself from me. All I heard was the sound of his Converse sneakers hitting the hard pavement as he walked off into the night.

  *

  The next morning, I was woken up by a loud knocking at my bedroom door.

  “Felicia?” Gram’s voice called from the hallway.

  “What?” I called back groggily.

  “Get out of bed, you have a visitor.”

  Glancing at my alarm clock, I groaned. It was only six o’clock. I didn’t have to be at work until eight. Who in their right mind would be here at the crack of dawn?

  I climbed out of bed and pulled on my bathing suit. Wiping the sleep from my eyes, I inspected myself in the mirror. All of this time sitting out in the sun was turning my olive skin a tanner shade than it had been before I’d started this job. My ocean blue eyes appeared brighter against my golden blonde hair. Although I knew that there was nothing wrong with being pale and that it was technically better for my skin, something about having a natural, healthy-looking tan gave me a sense of confidence.

  Once I was done changing, I strolled out of my bedroom and into the hallway. I found Gram sitting at the kitchen island talking to Carrie.

  “Carrie?” I asked, surprised that my best friend had managed to pull herself out of bed to see me so early in the morning. She usually slept late, since she didn’t normally have to work until a little later in the day, when it got hot enough for people to crave an ice cream cone. “What are you doing here?”

  “I need to talk to you, Felicia,” Carrie said in a voice that sounded a little worried. Her eyes flitted over to Gram, who didn’t seem to pick up on anything weird going on between me and my best friend. “Let’s get breakfast before you have to go to work.”

  “Okay,” I said, holding back the sigh I wanted to let out. I knew that this had to do with me storming off yesterday. If I hadn’t ignored Carrie’s calls and text messages all night long, she probably wouldn’t be concerned about me.

  I turned to my grandma. “I’ll see you tomorrow, probably. I’m supposed to go to the beach with Tyler sometime later.”

  “Okay, sweetie,” my grandmother said, pouring creamer into her cup of coffee. “Have a good day.”

  “Thanks. You, too,” I said before leading Carrie out the front door. She followed me down Gram’s driveway and, once we were far enough away from the house, I said in a low voice, “I’m sorry I didn’t answer your texts.”

  “Well, you should have,” Carrie shot back at me. I was surprised by the harshness of her voice. “I was worried about you . . . after the way you stormed away like that. And then, you didn’t answer me all night. You’re lucky I waited until morning to come by. I was tempted to come over in the middle of the night to check on you.”

  “I wouldn’t have been there, anyway,” I muttered as we approached the donut shop across the street.

  At first, I thought Carrie didn’t hear me, but once we were inside the shop, she whirled around and gave me the nastiest glare I had ever seen her give. “You mean to tell me you ignored me last night because you were out with Tyler?” Her voice was filled with disbelief, and I knew that if I said the wrong thing, she was going to be mad at me.

  “No, not exactly,” I replied, choosing my words carefully. “I was with Tyler, but I didn’t plan to be.” When she stared back at me in question, I broke down. “I’ve been sleepwalking lately. Tyler found me on the beach.”

  “Sleepwalking?” Carrie asked, raising an eyebrow at me. “That’s . . . random. I knew you snored really loud and you’re like a zombie to wake up, but you never sleepwalk when you sleep over at my house. Or when I sleep over at yours.”

  I nodded. “Yeah, it’s a new thing. It’s only happened twice. I must be stressed out or something.” Technically, that was true. Seeing Scarlett—I was still positive than it had been her—had stressed me out. Maybe I was sleepwalking because of it.

  Once we were the next in line, Carrie said, “You can order first.”

  I was surprised to find that my stomach wasn’t rumbling as it often did this early in the morning. All of this stress had to be affecting my appetite, too. Deciding that I would probably feel hungry later, I ordered something anyway. “I’ll have a jelly donut and a water bottle.”

&nb
sp; Carrie looked over at me with a wrinkled forehead. “You don’t want your usual?”

  “I didn’t know I had a usual,” I lied. I knew what my usual was: a jelly donut and an iced coconut coffee. But coffee sounded horrible right now, and admitting that I wasn’t ordering my usual was admitting that I was, well, unusual. And the truth was, I really did feel unusual.

  Carrie gave me a funny look before ordering her own food: a donut with chocolate icing and sprinkles and hot chocolate with whipped cream. Once we had our food, we went back outside and sat down at one of the picnic tables outside of the donut shop.

  “So, you never told me what happened between you and Jackson that made you run away like that,” Carrie said casually. She stared at me intently, waiting for an answer.

  I gaped at her. I had totally expected her to know by now. “Jackson didn’t say anything to you?”

  Carrie shook her head. It looked like she’d had caramel brown highlights put in her long brown hair since the last time I’d seen her, and her tanning goggle lines were more clearly defined today. “He didn’t say a word. Did something happen between the two of you?”

  I explained to her what had happened on the night of Bryson’s party. When I was done, I added, “We saw each other even before then, though.”

  “Because you’re both lifeguards,” Carrie said, piecing it together.

  I nodded as I took a sip of my water. It tasted horrible, I realized, as the chlorine-like liquid hit my tongue. Knowing that I’d become dehydrated in the scorching sun if I didn’t drink it, I gulped it down anyway.

  “And that’s not to mention that he was a complete jerk to me then, too,” I went on, thinking back to the day I had first met him on the beach, as I stuffed my donut into my tote bag for later.

  Carrie shook her head. “If I knew this all happened, I wouldn’t have forced you to see him. He sounds like he turned out to be a creep.”

  “It’s not your fault,” I said softly. “You couldn’t have known. I didn’t even know it was Jackson.” I laughed. “I thought J.P. was his full name, but I’m not sure why.”

  Carrie laughed. “I don’t know why either. I think you were the only one who ever called him J.P. It was like your thing or something.” She sighed. “Oh, well. All good things come to an end, I guess.” I knew what Carrie was referring to—the idea that she might be able to play matchmaker.

  “Hey, look,” Carrie hissed at me. “H.S.A.!”

  I glanced in the direction that my best friend was gazing in. H.S.A. was our code language for ‘Hottie Straight Ahead’. Carrie had come up with it after one particular night at a party when she had been really wasted and announced, very loudly, that Mason Schultz was hot - right in front of his girlfriend. The next thing we knew, Michelle Weiss spread this horrible rumor about Carrie having pubic lice so that none of the other guys would want to go out with her.

  It was completely humiliating, and from that night on, we decided that we’d always refer to hot guys as H.S.A. so that it would be our secret—and so that we didn’t get into any fights in case any of them did happen to have a crazy girlfriend.

  “Agreed,” I murmured as I glanced over at the guy. He had longish blonde hair and a tall, lanky build. Turning back to Carrie, I whispered, “I think he’s a surfer. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen him come out of the water with a surfboard.”

  “I don’t care if he even knows how to swim. I just want his number. Wish me luck,” Carrie said, standing up and tossing her trash in the garbage. Blowing a kiss over her shoulder, she added, “Oh, and have a good day at work.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered. I watched as Carrie walked up to the guy and put her hand on his shoulder. Beaming a large smile, he said something to her and seconds later, they had both burst into laughter. Leave it to my best friend to randomly walk up to a guy and make him like her instantly. I wished I had even half the amount of confidence she had.

  They both glanced over at me, and I got the feeling that Carrie wanted me to leave so she could talk to the hottie without feeling like she was being watched like a hawk by her best friend.

  Shaking my head, I got up and started down the wooden steps that led to the beach. Pulling my flip flops off, I began my way across the sand, which already burned the soles of my feet even though it was still early in the morning. It was going to be a hot day.

  From the corner of my eye, I watched as seagulls swarmed around a little boy, who held a croissant in his hand. It reminded me that I probably should try to eat something before my stomach had the chance to start rumbling.

  As I bit into the jelly donut, I nearly gagged. The white powdered sugar that filled my mouth reminded me of chalk. The chalky powder became congealed in the back of my throat—threatening to close off the passageway to my lungs.

  Deciding that I would cause a scene if I spit it out, I quickly gulped down my water to push the revolting donut down into my stomach and stared at what was left of it. It looked no different than what I normally ordered. I put it next to my nose and smelled it; instead of my nostrils being filled with the deliciously sweet smell of powdered sugar, I couldn’t smell anything at all.

  I stuck my tongue against the jelly that seeped out of it, which was normally sweet-tasting and full of delicious raspberry seeds. Today, though, it tasted strangely bitter.

  Wrapping the rest of the uneaten donut up in a napkin, I tossed it over the side of my lifeguard chair and into the garbage can below me.

  “Nice shot,” a familiar deep voice said.

  I turned to find Jackson standing a few feet away from me with a smirk on his face. Rolling my eyes, I turned my head to watch the ocean. I tried not to think about how long he had been watching me dissect my donut.

  From the corner of my eye, I could tell that he wanted to say something more. After a few minutes of me ignoring his gaze, though, he turned and walked towards his own lifeguard chair. I breathed a sigh of relief.

  Reaching for my water bottle again, I found that it was almost empty. I knew I wasn’t supposed to leave my lifeguard chair while I was on duty, but there was no way I was going to survive this heat without another water bottle. The last thing I wanted was to end up in the hospital from dehydration.

  Climbing down from my chair, I headed over to the hot dog stand about three chairs down from me. Once I was standing in line, I got the feeling that someone was watching me. Glancing over my shoulder, I checked to see if it was Jackson . . . but his head was turned.

  I waited for the cashier to get my three bottles of water—I figured that was enough to hold me over until the afternoon, at least.

  “Hey, there,” someone said from behind me.

  Whirling around, I found Tyler standing next to me. Bruno was with him, wagging his tail happily.

  “Hey, boy,” I whispered, leaning over to pet the dog, who stretched his head forward so that I could rub behind his ears. I glanced up at Tyler and smiled.

  “Good morning,” Tyler said, a cheerful tone in his voice, as I handed the cashier my money. He glanced down at the bottles of water in my hand. “Going to the desert?”

  “Practically,” I laughed. “It feels like the desert here today.”

  Tyler raised an eyebrow at me. “It’s hot, but . . . it’s not any hotter than usual. Doesn’t feel too bad to me, actually. It’s pretty windy.”

  “Well, you must be cold-blooded or something,” I replied, rolling my eyes. “It’s miserable out. We must be in for a hot summer.” Knowing that I needed to get back to my lifeguard chair, I motioned for Tyler to follow me.

  “So, are we still on for the beach tonight?” Tyler asked.

  “Of course. How’s eight o’clock?” I asked.

  “Eight o’clock sounds perfect,” Tyler replied with a smile. “I’ll meet you in front of Scoops. See you then.”

  “Bye,” I said as I climbed the steps to my lifeguard chair.

  And that’s when I saw it, out of the corner of my eye. A flash of red hair, a shade that wasn’t quite co
pper—and not quite auburn, either.

  Chapter 10

  I made sure that Tyler was gone before I chased after Scarlett. I could see her long, wavy hair bobbing against her back as she made her way down the beach.

  As she started to become a tiny speck in my field of vision, I broke into a sprint. I passed all of the beachgoers, who stared back at me with confused and somewhat panicked expressions on their faces. They probably thought I was running to save someone.

  Once my lifeguard chair was no longer in sight, I heard someone call my name from behind me.

  “Felicia! Come back!” the deep voice shouted.

  I whirled around in time to see Jackson chasing after me. “You can’t just leave your chair while you’re on duty!” he yelled. “You’re going to get fired!”

  I was tempted to tell him that I didn’t care, that finding my sister was much more important to me right now than this summer job. But why should I have to explain myself to him? It wasn’t any of his business what I did. He didn’t really even know me and every second that he slowed me down, I was another second away from being reunited with Scarlett.

  So, instead, I kept running.

  When I was halfway to the pier, I stopped and gazed across the beach. Children were happily building a sand castle, and an old woman was collecting seashells. But Scarlett was no longer in sight.

  Had she been able to run away from me that quickly? I didn’t think she’d even seen me chasing her, but maybe she had.

  As I stared into the ocean, I tried not to think of the other possibility—that I had imagined the whole thing, and that Scarlett had never been there at all. Maybe I really was becoming like my mother.

  As I was debating on whether I should go back to my lifeguard chair or if I should continue in the other direction to see if Scarlett had gone on the other side of the pier, I felt strong hands grip my shoulders from behind and spin me around.