“Yeah. Have you never seen one?”
I shake my head. “Not in person, just in pictures.”
“I’ll show you sometime. They’re pretty weird, but I was obsessed with them as a kid.”
“Boys. Always obsessed with weird things.”
He laughs and squeezes my hand. “So, what did you do in high school besides swimming? Anything interesting?”
“Not really. What about you?”
“Oh, come on. I’m sure there’s something you did.”
“Nothing worth mentioning. You already know I play guitar, swim, and take pictures. What about you?”
He shrugs. “I played a little football.”
I knew it. I don’t know how I did, but I knew it. “Cool.”
He smiles. “Not a fan of football?”
“Not really.”
“Makes sense. You still seem like a choir girl to me.” He looks at me out of the corner of his eye and chuckles at my expression.
“I’ve already confessed that I can’t sing.”
“You can’t be that bad.”
“Really. I’m horrible.”
He chuckles. “I’d still like to hear you, even though you think you suck.”
“Not gonna happen,” I say. “Really. It’s pitiful. My brother is an awesome singer.” I realize what I’ve said and sigh. Was. Was an awesome singer.
“My sister’s like you say you are. She can’t sing at all. It’s hilarious.” His eyes widen. “Not that it’s funny that you can’t sing, I just like making fun of her.”
“Right,” I say, letting the sarcasm drip. “Like I said. No singing in front of you. Ever.”
“Ah, you’re no fun.” He nudges me with his shoulder.
I let go of his hand and stop to slip my flip-flops off and walk out near the water. I love feeling the wet sand between my toes. It’s kind of like a pedicure. Carson does the same but leaves his flip-flops on.
“How’s your foot?” I ask. I haven’t seen him surfing yet but the bandage is gone.
He shrugs. “Better. I still have the cut covered, just a small bandage though. It itches.”
“That means it’s healing.” At least that’s what my dad always told me when I got hurt. “I think.” I smile, knowing I have no idea what I’m talking about.
“Thank you, Dr. Nelson.”
I chuckle. “I’m glad to be of service.”
We walk in easy silence, enjoying each other’s company. There are a lot of people out. A few walking dogs on the boardwalk. There are several couples holding hands, like us, and a few on the beach tucked under blankets doing who knows what. I see a few kids with their parents and wonder why they aren’t in bed, but obviously it’s none of my business. I smile at a family as they walk by us. Everyone I’ve seen so far has one thing in common: they look so happy. So at peace with the world.
I stare out into the dark, catching the glimmer of boat lights every now and then. That’s what my life is like right now. Dark, but with a glimmer of hope on the horizon. I’m trying to move on. Trying to forget what I’ve been through, but I know it will take some time. At least I’m feeling a little normal again. Whatever normal is.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I look over and Carson isn’t looking at me but I know he’s been watching me.
“Not really.” I should. I really should talk about it. Maybe it would help, but it’s too new. Too fresh on my mind. I can’t do it. Not yet.
“Whatever it is that makes you sad, I’m sorry.” He glances at me, a serious expression on his face. “You can talk to me, you know.”
“I barely know you.” It’s true. We both know it. Yet I feel more comfortable with him than I ever have with anyone else. Which is strange. I’m not used to trusting so easily.
His eyes lighten and I catch a small smile. “Why don’t we change that? What do you want to know?”
I think for a moment and stop walking. “Hmmm . . .” I start. “Let me think for a minute.” I squish my toes in the sand. The water covers my feet and I shiver. I feel the pull of the ocean as the wave goes back in. It tries to pull me with it but I let my feet sink deeper. I look up to find Carson watching me. The corner of his mouth twitches but he says nothing. “What?” I ask.
“Are you having fun?”
“Yes.” I realize I’m supposed to be thinking of a question. “So, you sort of own your own surf shop. Are you going to do that for a living?”
It’s lame but the only thing I can think of. I’m surprised when he frowns.
“I don’t know.” He scratches his head and stares at the water.
Curious at his reaction, I keep going. “You don’t know? Don’t you like it there?”
He nods. “It’s fine. I just don’t want to be stuck there forever. I want to go to college.”
I think back to one of the first conversations we ever had. “A marine veterinarian, right?”
“Right. It’s just . . .” He hesitates and then sighs. “My dad wants me to take over permanently. Run the surf shop for him. It’s a family thing and it does very well, but that’s not what I want to do forever. It’s his dream to see me take over and expand the store. To pass it down to my kids and keep it going. And I don’t want to do it.”
“Have you talked to him about it?” I don’t know why I’m attempting to give advice. I can’t even talk to my own parents.
He shrugs. “He doesn’t really listen. Don’t get me wrong, I love the guy, but . . . I just have different goals than he does.”
I put a hand on his arm and the motion shocks even me, but I leave it there. “You should talk to him again. You could work through college running the shop but then he has to understand you have your own dreams.”
“That’s the problem. He never went to college and thinks it’s a waste of money.” He lets out an annoyed laugh. “Unless I go into business because that will help the shop. He just doesn’t understand why I’d go to school for anything else since I’m basically being handed a full-time job for the rest of my life.” He lets out a frustrated sigh. “Can we talk about something else?”
I’m still curious but nod anyway. I look down at my feet and try to move. I’ve sunk well past my ankles and if I pull one foot out, I’ll probably fall over. That would be super awesome. “Um . . . a little help?”
He laughs and grabs my hand, pulling me out. I somehow trip over my own feet and crash into his chest. He grabs me around the waist to steady himself but we both fall over anyway.
The side of my face slams into the cold sand. I let out a surprised scream as a little wave comes in and I feel cold water seeping through my jeans. Carson is laughing his head off next to me as I stand up.
I glance at my butt, noting the wetness. Nice. “Great. It looks like I peed my pants.”
“Me too,” he says with a laugh,
I can taste grains of sand in my mouth so I rub my lips with my hand to try and get the saltiness off.
“That didn’t quite go as planned,” he says, brushing sand out of his hair.
“No kidding.” I spit sand out of my mouth as I think of how many people probably walked on it that day.
Disgusting.
“That was attractive.”
I glare at him. “What was I supposed to do? It was in my mouth!” I walk over to dry sand and sit down, knowing full well it’ll be stuck to my wet pants the rest of the night. Oh well.
He laughs again as he takes a seat next to me and we ease into comfortable silence.
The stars are beautiful tonight. I don’t remember the stars being so bright in Utah. Maybe I just didn’t pay attention. I never had time to pay attention.
Carson’s leg brushes mine and I realize how close we’re sitting. I study him as he looks down the beach. Before I let myself get too comfortable, I wipe my sandy hands off and stand. “I should probably be getting back.”
He looks disappointed and opens his mouth to say something but shuts it. He stands, hesitates a second, and takes
the hand I offer him. “You’re right.”
Even though I say I need to get back, we take our time. Twenty minutes later, we make our way through the back fence of Jo’s house. Carson walks me to my bedroom door and I silently start freaking out. It’s the doorstep scene all over again. I gulp and take a deep breath before I turn to face him. “Thanks for the walk. I needed it tonight.”
He shrugs. “Anytime.” He searches my face and clears his throat. “I’ll . . . uh . . . see you tomorrow then.”
“Okay.” I pull my hand away. It tingles from his touch and I’m surprised how much I want him to stay.
“Goodnight, Oakley.” He gives me a shy smile, walks to the fence, and lets himself out. I stare at the fence until I hear his door close.
I don’t want to admit it but I may have a crush. Just a little one.
CHAPTER 10
DEAR OAKLEY,
YOU KNOW THAT SUPER MARIO BLANKET MOM BOUGHT ME FOR MY BIRTHDAY WHEN I WAS FIVE? I STILL HAVE IT. I TOLD MOM I GOT RID OF IT A FEW YEARS AGO BECAUSE I THOUGHT I WAS TOO OLD FOR MARIO. BUT THE TRUTH IS, MARIO ROCKS. I MEAN, HOW COOL WOULD IT BE TO BE A PLUMBER GUY WHO’S REALLY SHORT AND FAT BUT CAN STILL JUMP REALLY HIGH? THAT’S AWESOME! AND ON TOP OF THAT, HE GETS PRINCESS PEACH FOR A GIRLFRIEND. EVEN WITH HER ANNOYING SAYINGS ON MARIO KART. EVEN THOUGH DAISY IS CUTER. ALTHOUGH, I DO PREFER BRUNETTES, SO THAT’S PROBABLY WHY. STUPID LUIGI. I NEVER LIKED HIM AND HIS CREEPY VOICE.
ANYWAY, I’M NOT REALLY SURE WHAT THIS LETTER HAS TO DO WITH ANYTHING TODAY. I WAS JUST THINKING ABOUT THAT BLANKET. IT’S SHOVED IN THE TOP OF MY CLOSET. YOU CAN SNUGGLE WITH IT IF YOU WANT. JUST REMEMBER IT WAS ON MY BED FOR YEARS. AND I TOOK IT EVERYWHERE. IT’S PROBABLY REALLY DISGUSTING NOW, SO IT WOULD BE A GOOD IDEA TO WASH IT BEFORE YOU SLEEP WITH IT. BECAUSE YOU WILL SLEEP WITH IT. IT’S MARIO. WHO WOULDN’T WANT SOME OF THAT ACTION?
SWEET DREAMS!
LOVE, LUCAS
I stare at the letter. He still has that nasty old blanket? I remember it well. He took it everywhere with him. Sometimes Mom had to drag it out of his hands. She always said he was too old to carry a blanket around, even though she was the one who gave it to him. And it wasn’t like he took it into the grocery store or anything. Though I wouldn’t put it past him.
So many memories.
Someone taps on my door and Mom walks in before I answer. “Hey,” she says. She looks a little better today. Her hair is done and she’s wearing makeup. She sits down on the edge of my bed and pulls on a piece of her hair. She always does that when she’s nervous. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
Here it comes. I already know what it is. I’ve seen the signs. Ever since Lucas got diagnosed with cancer, she and Dad have acted differently toward one another. I don’t think they blame each other, since you can’t give cancer to anyone, but I think they both wish they could have done more. “It’s about you and Dad. I talked to him last night.”
She looks at me, surprised. “You did?”
“He didn’t say anything about you but I’m not stupid, Mom. I figured it out before we even got here.”
“Oakley.” She sighs. “Your father and I . . .” She frowns and I know she’s unsure of what to say or how to say it.
“You’re getting divorced.” I look away from her penetrating gaze and focus on my hands. Anything to distract myself from looking at her. “There. I said it for you so you didn’t have to do it.”
“Oakley . . . let me explain. It’s not like—”
“It’s fine, Mom. I knew it was coming.” I fling my covers off my legs and slip my flip-flops on. “I’ll be on the beach if you need me.”
“Oakley, wait. It’s not fine. We need to talk about this.”
“I don’t want to. I know what a divorce means.”
She lets out a frustrated breath. “That’s not what I meant.”
I put my hand on the doorknob. “Then what do you mean?”
“We just need to talk. I need you to understand what I’m going through.”
I frown. “What you’re going through? Have you ever thought about what I’m going through? I’m seventeen and I’ve been through way more than most people my age have. And that’s not a good thing. My parents forgot about me for the past year and are now getting divorced. My brother was diagnosed with cancer, and I watched him die. I. Watched. Him. Die. My best friend is gone. And my mom can’t even look me in the eye and tell me it’s going to be okay.”
Her eyes fill with tears and I take a shaky breath to keep mine at bay. “Oakley—”
I hold up a hand to stop her. “Please.” Keep breathing. “I can’t do this right now.” Even though I want to say more. I want her to know how much I’m hurting. I want her to know how much their divorce is already affecting me, how it’s their fault I’m the way I am, but I can’t bring myself to do it. So I stand there and stare at her, my hand still on the doorknob, her sad eyes still on me. Begging me for . . . I’m not sure what. I think back to Lucas’s letter from yesterday. Don’t be too hard on Mom and Dad. How can I not be? Can’t she see how much I’m hurting? How much pain I’m in from losing the three people I care about most? Before I say something I regret, I turn away. “I’ll be back later,” I say and open the door.
“Oakley, please.”
I shut the door and leave her alone.
I’m fuming by the time I reach the water. I don’t know whether to cry or to punch something. Or someone. My family has completely fallen to crap. It’s killing me to watch their marriage fall apart by myself.
It sucks. A lot.
Lucas would have handled this so much better than me. He looked on the bright side of everything, even when there wasn’t one. If he were here, he’d put a positive spin on things. If he were here, he’d tell me to quit acting like a baby and man up. The corner of my mouth twitches, thinking of all the times he said that to me because he knew how much I hated it.
But now I realize how true the statement is. I am acting like a baby. Lucas may be gone but my parents are still here. And all I’m doing is pushing them away.
I debate going to see what Carson’s doing, since he always seems to put me in a better mood but decide against it. His Jeep is gone so I’m sure he’s at work. And I’m not really brave enough to show up and meet his family without him there.
“Hey, Oakley.”
I turn around and see Dillon striding toward me with a smile on his face. I know he lives around here but not sure where. “Hi,” I say. I’m distracted. I don’t really want to talk to anyone. I hate fighting with Mom. Hate it.
“You busy?”
I shake my head. “Not really.”
“Why don’t I take you to breakfast? Have you eaten?”
“No.” I force a smile but my mind keeps racing. Maybe I was too hard on Mom. I should apologize but I don’t know what I’d say. “I’m not very hungry though.”
He looks disappointed.
“Sorry. Maybe another time.”
“I’ll hold you to that.”
We stand in awkward silence until he clears his throat beside me. “You want to go for a walk or something? I don’t have to work for another hour.”
I shrug. “Okay.”
We walk. My mind is scattered so I don’t talk. Just listen. It’s not like Dillon asks me any questions anyway. He has no problem carrying on the conversation himself. He talks and talks and I sort of tune him out for a while. “Have you tried it yet?”
I look over at him, still distracted. “Huh?”
He smiles. “Surfing.”
“Oh. Yes. Carson took me out yesterday.”
His smile falters but he recovers quickly. “He wasn’t working yesterday . . . he must have given you a freebie.”
“A freebie?”
“He taught you for free. That’s not normal for him. He usually doesn’t do that for his students.”
“I’m not really his student. We’re just friends.”
He chuckles. “Sure.”
I stop walking. “
No, really. He’s become a good friend.”
He holds his hands out defensively. “I wasn’t implying anything. I’m just curious. I’ve known Carson for years and he never just gives someone surf lessons. Or hangs out with them all the time. He’s pretty private. He’s had girls after him for years and hasn’t given them a second glance. But then you come along and he’s hooked.”
“It’s not like that.”
He smiles. “Maybe not for you. I can tell you’ve got him wrapped around your finger though.”
I fold my arms and start walking again. “You’ve never even seen us together.” Why is he telling me this anyway? It’s hard to believe Carson may like me that much already. He doesn’t know anything about me. Other than I can’t surf and I can’t sing.
“I’ve seen enough.”
I stop again and he does as well. “I should probably be getting back” I say.
“Really?”
“Yes. I have some things I need to do today.”
He studies me and I shrink under his gaze. “Do you want me to walk you back?”
I shake my head. “I can manage. Thanks for the walk.”
“Anytime. And I’m really taking a rain check on that breakfast.”
“Okay.” I start back home, very aware of his eyes on me. I’m not sure why I’m annoyed but I am. And confused.
The rest of the day consists of the silent treatment from Mom. And no word from Carson.
CHAPTER 11
DEAR OAKLEY,
IT’S TIME WE HAD A TALK. AND NO, NOT ABOUT THE BIRDS AND THE BEES. THAT WOULDN’T BE AWKWARD AT ALL . . .
I chuckle. Even when he was in the hospital, he still had a sense of humor. I could just hear his sarcasm.
BUT SERIOUSLY. I KNOW HOW GUYS THINK. BE CAREFUL. YOU’RE GETTING CUTE. THAT’S THE WORD I’LL USE, SINCE YOU’RE MY LITTLE SISTER. PICK A GUY WHO WILL TREAT YOU WITH RESPECT. SOMEONE LIKE ME, BUT NOT ME. FUNNY, BRILLIANT, AND ALL OUT AWESOME. AND IF YOU FIND THE RIGHT GUY, DON’T SCREW IT UP BY BEING SOMEONE YOU’RE NOT. BE YOURSELF. GUYS DON’T LIKE FAKE GIRLS. AND YOU’RE NOT FAKE.
OH, AND STAY AWAY FROM BRADY COLIER. SERIOUSLY. IF HE EVEN TRIES TO HIT ON YOU, YOU HAVE MY PERMISSION TO KICK HIM IN THE NUTS.
Love, Lucas Page 9