My fork clinks against my plate, the only sound in the room. Mom and Jo’s silence is getting on my nerves but I don’t say anything. I don’t want to talk about Carson anymore and I know that’s what they’re after.
“So, who was it?” Jo asks.
“Seriously? It’s not a big deal.”
“Oh, come on. Just give me a name.” She glances at Mom and grins. “There aren’t that many locals around here. Maybe I know him.”
I let out a huge exaggerated sigh. “Fine. I met a guy by the tide pools this morning. His name was Carson. Happy now?”
“Carson Nye?”
I shrug. “I never asked him his last name, but he said he knows you.”
“It has to be him.” She smiles. “He’s a good kid. Lives next door.” She studies me for a moment and I shrink under her gaze. “You should go.”
“I’m not going.”
“Why?”
“Because it would be weird. I don’t even know him. I talked to him for like, two seconds.”
Jo snorts. “Well, obviously he wants to get to know you, or he wouldn’t have asked you to go.”
I roll my eyes. “Whatever.” I take a bite of broccoli. I don’t like broccoli. How did it even get on my plate? I chew really fast and eat a piece of chicken to cover up the horrible taste in my mouth.
Mom frowns. “Honey, you should go. Go have fun. I’m worried about you. Ever since Lucas . . .” Her voice squeaks as she says his name. She clears her throat and takes a shaky breath. “Ever since we lost Lucas, you’ve built a wall around yourself. Maybe if you make some friends, you could be yourself again.”
My hand stops halfway to my mouth and I slowly set my fork down. “Mom, I’m fine.”
“You’re not. You’re not yourself, Oakley. Lying in bed all day? Doing nothing? It’s not like you at all.”
I push my chair back and stand up, furious at where the conversation is headed. “Who do you want me to be, Mom? The same as I was before? I can’t just forget about everything and get over it like you can.”
Her mouth drops open and I see the hurt in her eyes. “I haven’t gotten over it,” she whispers. “I lost my son, Oakley. And I don’t want to lose my daughter too.”
“Where do you think I’m going? I’m not suicidal, Mom. I told you. I’m fine. Just leave it alone.”
“I didn’t say you were suicidal.” She sighs. “I’m just trying to help you. I want you to have friends. I want you to have a normal life again.” She reaches out to touch me but I pull away. I don’t understand where all of this is coming from. She’s not supposed to care about me. She hasn’t for months. And even if she did, she’s had a funny way of showing it. “This is why we came here. To start over.”
I frown. “I don’t want to start over and I don’t need your help. I don’t need anybody.” I turn away from her and go to my room, slamming the door behind me.
Why does she have to do that? Make me feel guilty for no reason. I’m fine. I told her so. I don’t need friends. The only thing they would do is feel sorry for me anyway. I don’t need anyone’s pity. And if she’s so worried about me, why hasn’t she told me before? I needed her weeks ago. I needed her and she wasn’t there.
Lucas’s notebook is sitting on my bed. I walk over to it and pick it up, turning to page two. I told myself I’d only read one each day, but right now I’m throwing my plan out the window. I need my brother.
DEAR OAKLEY,
HA. IT’S KIND OF FUNNY WRITING “DEAR.” YOU’RE MY SISTER, AND I’M NOT SENDING A REÉSUMEÉ OR LETTER TO ANYONE SUPER IMPORTANT. NOT THAT YOU AREN’T IMPORTANT . . . OH, NEVER MIND. ANYWAY, TODAY IS THE DAY I START THIS STUPID NOTEBOOK FULL OF INSIGHTS INTO YOUR AWESOME BROTHER’S LIFE. I KNOW YOU’RE DYING TO FIND OUT WHAT GOES ON IN MY HEAD.
SO, TODAY, A NEW NURSE WAS ASSIGNED TO MY ROOM. SHE’S HOT AND I REALLY WANT TO ASK HER OUT. I’M PRETTY SURE SHE’S LIKE EIGHT YEARS OLDER THAN ME. WHICH COULD PROVE TO BE A CHALLENGE . . . BUT I’M NINETEEN, SO SHE WOULDN’T GO TO JAIL IF WE DID END UP HOOKING UP. I WONDER IF SHE’LL GO OUT WITH ME. WE COULD HAVE A ROMANTIC DATE IN THE HOSPITAL CAFETERIA.
AND THAT, DEAR SISTER, IS A GLIMPSE INTO YOUR BROTHER’S MIND. PRETTY AWESOME, RIGHT? YOU LOVE IT.
OH, AND I’VE MADE A MENTAL NOTE TO LEAVE ONE THOUGHT FOR THE DAY IN EVERY LETTER. I GUESS I SHOULDN’T SAY EVERY LETTER, SINCE I’M SURE I’LL FORGET SOME. WITH THAT NOTE, TODAY’S THOUGHT IS BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE LETTER . . . JUST KIDDING. BUT FOR REAL. I KNOW YOU’RE GRIEVING. I KNOW IT’S HARD. BUT PLEASE DON’T GIVE UP ON LIFE. DON’T SHUT DOWN LIKE YOU ALWAYS DO WHEN SOMETHING GOES WRONG. GET OUT AND DO SOMETHING. GO FOR A WALK. PLAY YOUR GUITAR. DANCE AND SING—WELL, MAYBE NOT SING SINCE WE BOTH KNOW YOU SUCK, BUT YOU GET WHAT I’M TRYING TO SAY. DON’T SHUT DOWN. LIVE YOUR LIFE KNOWING YOU CAN GET OUT AND DO THINGS YOU WANT TO DO. I WISH I COULD.
LOVE, LUCAS
He knows me too well. Get out and do something. I can just hear him saying that. I close the notebook and slip it under my pillow again. Don’t shut down. I’m not shutting down, am I? No, of course I’m not. I’ll prove him wrong. I slide off my bed and go outside.
It’s a beautiful night. Stars light the sky even though the sun hasn’t set all the way yet. It’s so peaceful here. There’s music coming from the front yard, so I walk around and sit on one of the wicker chairs on the porch. I pull my legs up against my chest, wrap my arms around them, and lean my head back against the seat. The glow from the bonfire on the beach flickers through the dark and I’m surprised how many people are at Carson’s party. I hear their muffled voices but can’t pick out any intelligible words. Probably because I’m across the street. Duh.
A sense of longing comes over me. I wish I belonged somewhere. Anywhere.
A movement to my left makes me jump and I’m surprised when I realize who it is. Carson.
“Hey, Oakley.” He walks around the porch and stops at the bottom of the stairs. “I was running late to the party and saw you sitting here by yourself. You still want to go? We can walk down together if you want.”
I give him a small smile. “I’m not sure if I’m up to it tonight. Maybe next time. Thank you, though.”
“You sure? If I’m being honest, you look like you need a friend tonight.”
His smile is contagious and genuine. It makes me feel like he actually cares about me, even though he has no idea who I am.
But do I really look that depressed? “Really?”
“A little.” He walks up the porch steps and leans against the wooden post holding up the awning. “Come on. It’ll be fun. There will be food. And people. Nothing better than that.” He studies me and I try not to stare back. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
I hesitate. “I’m not sure . . .” After blowing up at Mom, I don’t really feel like doing anything. “I don’t really know anyone.”
He grins. “You know me.”
I chuckle. “Kind of.”
“Okay. You’ve got me there, but I promise I’m a nice guy.” He walks, or rather limps, over to me and reaches out a hand. “Come with me. Nothing like a party on the beach on a night like this.”
I stare at his hand. Get out and do something. Lucas’s words invade my thoughts and I glance at the sky. I wonder if he’s watching me from heaven like I’m on some reality show. Even though I miss him, I’m experiencing a really strong urge to flip him off. Which for some reason kind of puts me in a better mood. “You know, it is a nice night, isn’t it?” I smile and grab Carson’s hand and he pulls me out of the chair.
“Attagirl.” He starts down the stairs but stops at the bottom. “Do you need to tell anyone where you’re going?” He motions toward the house.
“Probably. Just a sec.” I open the front door and poke my head inside. “Mom, I’m going out. I’ll be back later.”
I don’t wait for her reply, just shut the door and head back outside. She wants me to make friends? Fine. I’ll make friends.
Carson’s waiting for me, and for
the first time I notice his outfit: a red T-shirt and khaki shorts. He looks good in red. He’s wearing flip-flops again, with his foot bandaged as it was before.
“You ready?” he asks.
I look down at my jeans and hoodie. I should probably change into something a bit nicer but I’m lazy. “Yep!” I give him a smile. He’s so nice even though I totally don’t deserve his niceness. Maybe, just maybe, I’ll stop being ornery and enjoy myself tonight. Maybe.
“Great.”
We cross the street and head down to the beach. I’m walking with my arms folded but drop them to my sides. I’m nervous but I don’t want him to know that. “Thanks for walking me.”
“No problem.”
“So, what happened to your foot?”
He looks down at it and then over to me. “I got bit by a piece of coral. No big deal.”
I smile. “You were surfing?”
He nods. “First time I’ve ever let the coral get the best of me. Ten stitches. It was pretty messed up, but I’ll be back on the waves in a week or so.”
“Ouch.” I fold my arms. “You’d still surf with an injury like that?”
“This is nothing. A few of my buddies have gotten cut up pretty bad.”
“Oh. It sounds painful.”
He shrugs. “It’s fine. I’ve had worse injuries than this.”
“Really?”
“Broke my arm a few years ago. That hurt pretty bad.”
“How did you break your arm?”
He shrugs. “Skateboarding.”
“I can see that happening. Skateboarding is hard.” I chuckle. “The only time I ever tried it, I ended up on my butt.”
“Ha. I’ve done that plenty of times.”
“How long have you been boarding?”
He grins. “Which kind?”
I shrug. “Both.”
“Surfing since I was a kid, skateboarding since high school. I don’t do that very often anymore though. Too many broken bones. Arm, wrist, dislocated shoulder. Good times.”
“Seriously? I’ve never even broken one bone.”
“Really?”
“Really. I’ve gotten stitches, though. My brother dared me to ride down a dirt hill on my bike and I fell off. The spiky part of the bike that holds the chain sliced my leg open. The crank, I think? I don’t know bikes very well. Anyway, it was pretty bad. My brother felt awful. I actually did it the day before I started seventh grade. Great way to make an impression, right? A girl on crutches with a huge bandage on her leg.” I point to the scar on my calf and he raises his eyebrows.
“That’s quite the battle wound. It looks like an L.”
I smile. Lucas always said my scar was shaped like an L because it was his fault and the universe wanted to remind him it was his fault forever. “I’m sure broken bones hurt worse.”
He shrugs. “It’s a toss-up, I think. My foot hurts pretty bad.”
“It doesn’t seem to bother you much.”
“I like to act tougher than I really am.”
I chuckle and he grins.
We reach the crowd of people around the bonfire and Carson reaches for my hand. I don’t want to lose him, so I take it . . . and try not to overanalyze the gesture. He pulls me through the crowd and lets go when we reach a small group of people sitting around the fire.
“Hey, guys. This is Oakley.” He stands to the side and shoves his hands in his pockets.
I recognize Dillon, who jumps to his feet and does a weird little bow in front of me. “Nice to see you again. I knew you’d change your mind and come.” He grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze before sitting down again.
I give him a small smile.
I notice a few girls sitting next to him. They stare at me.
“Everyone, this is Oakley,” Carson says.
The girls say hi but look more bored than anything. I recognize the girl from earlier. The one with the nose ring. She smiles at me and nods, then goes back to her conversation like I’m not even there. I look away. I’ve never had many girlfriends. I’m not sure why.
“You want a drink or anything?” Dillon asks. “There’re a few beers left in the cooler.” He reaches in and pulls one out to hand it to me.
I shake my head. “No thanks. I don’t drink.” I’ve never really thought about drinking. Especially since I was at the hospital with Lucas most of my high school days. I have to admit it’s a little tempting now, though. I’ve always been the good girl. The one who never does anything wrong. I cross my arms. No. Not tonight. I don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of all these people. And if Lucas really is watching me, he’d tell me not to be stupid.
His mouth falls open. “What? You don’t drink?” He laughs and shakes his head. “She’s as bad as you are, Carson.”
I look over to find Carson smiling at me. I shrug and smile back. “I just like having complete control over my body at all times,” Carson says.
By the way he looks at Dillon, I’m sure there’s some kind of story that goes along with it, but I don’t ask. I don’t know these people, and I don’t want to pry into their personal lives. That would just give them a reason to try to pry into mine.
Dillon snorts and opens a beer for himself instead. “You’re getting boring in your old age.”
“I’m the same age as you.”
Dillon laughs. “You don’t act like you’re nineteen at all. You act like you’re thirty. Lame.”
We stand in awkward silence until Carson clears his throat. “Want a s’more? I roast a mean marshmallow.”
“Sure.”
He leads me over to a smaller fire and we sit down on an old log. He pulls a few marshmallows out of a bag and pushes them onto a long stick. “So, where’re you from anyway? I’m guessing not anywhere close.”
“I hail from Utah.”
He laughs. “Never been there. Anything interesting I should know about?”
I slip off my flip-flops and bury my feet in the cool sand. “Not really. It’s quiet for the most part. I think there are one or two families with younger kids in the neighborhood, but most of the people have lived there for years and are staying there forever. We have a lot of high schoolers and a lot of college students. Lots of colleges within driving distance, so a lot of the college students just live at home while they go to school.”
He chuckles. “Kind of like here. Minus the school part.”
I raise an eyebrow. I’m not sure what he means.
“We have a lot of college-aged people that live here and all they do is surf. Some of them go to school, but most locals just work here and surf every day. It’s all they live for. The waves.”
“Oh. Makes sense.”
“Not that there’s anything wrong with that, since I love surfing. I’d just like to get an education, you know? Do something with my life.”
“What do you want to do?”
He smiles and I realize how amazing he looks in the firelight. His light hair looks darker and he swipes it out of his eyes. “I want to do what Jo does. Be a marine veterinarian. Rescue animals. I’d love to do that. There’s nothing better than working with animals. And being out on the ocean would be a bonus.”
“That does sound nice.” I’ll have to ask Jo more about her job. I thought she just worked in a lab or something, but it was starting to sound more interesting.
“So . . . do you have any plans for the future?” He grins and shakes his head. “I swear I don’t ask boring questions all the time. At least I didn’t ask you about the weather.”
I laugh. “I have no idea what I want to do. I love photography but I haven’t really thought about going into it. Like you, I like animals but I’m not sure if I could handle putting any to sleep. To be honest, I don’t know if I want to go to college anytime soon. I’m kind of sick of school.”
“Amen. So glad to be done with high school.”
“Are you in college?”
He smiles, the dimple in his chin more pronounced. “Not yet. I could have gone this las
t year after I graduated, but I had a lot going on. I’m filling out applications for fall semester though.”
“Ah. I see.” I should probably fill some out too but college has been the last thing on my mind. I all but dropped out of high school a few months ago. Quit the swim team, student government. Everything. Mom finally put me on an accelerated program to get it over with and I ended up graduating in December. A whole semester before I was supposed to. Which turned out for the best. I refused to leave Lucas’s side all through January, until we lost him on February 1. The worst day of my life.
“So, you weren’t a fan of high school?” Carson’s voice brings me back to the present.
“Not at all.”
He hands me a box of graham crackers and a bar of chocolate. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“It was. So much so, I graduated a few months ago. So glad I’m out of there.” Everyone was weird around me. Even people who didn’t know me very well were weird around me. Like I would break with the slightest touch. That’s why I avoided everyone; I didn’t want their pity.
He gives me a curious look but doesn’t press for details. “So, you’re seventeen then? Or eighteen?”
“Seventeen, I’ll be eighteen in a few months.”
“Nice.” He turns his marshmallows around on his roasting stick. “It’s cold in Utah right now, right?”
“Yep. February is still freezing cold. I love the snow at the beginning of winter, for a couple of weeks maybe, but I end up hating it after a while. The old black and crusty snow that doesn’t melt for months gets kind of old. The first snow though, is like magic. I love going outside and listening to the quiet. Everything is so . . . still.”
He nods. “I haven’t seen snow forever. Not since I was a kid.”
“Maybe I’ll have my dad mail me some and you can look at it before it melts.” I grin and he smiles back.
“Here. These marshmallows are about done.” He moves the stick in front of me.
“Hold on a sec.” I break a graham cracker in half and put some chocolate on the bottom cracker.
“Ready?”
I nod and squish the marshmallow between my two crackers. I hold it for a second to make sure the chocolate melts a little. It’s no good when the chocolate is hard.
Love, Lucas Page 3