Rogue Wave: Cake Series Book Five

by Bengtsson, J.

  “Then I’m glad I didn’t tell you before. Please never stop making me smile.”

  He nodded, staring down at his wringing fingers. “How did he…?”

  “Die?” I finished the question.

  “Yeah.”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “Oh.”

  That was enough information to catch Keith up. Typically conversation ended there. Suicide was never a comfortable topic, but he surprised me by pushing deeper into my gloomy past. “How?”

  How? Why did it matter how? He’d killed himself – end of story. But I knew better. The way people chose to live their lives mattered, and so did the way some chose to die. Sullivan had made a statement with his death, however misguided it might have been. He could have gone quietly, drifting into oblivion with a cocktail of pills alone in his dorm room, but instead he’d chosen to go public in the most terrifying and messy of ways. And the worst part of it all was, I understood his reasoning. Like me, Sully had spent his life in the shadows. In death, he wanted to be seen.

  Through jagged breath, I told Keith the story, every sordid detail, and the more I unloaded on him, the easier it became to breathe. When I came to the end, Keith seemed the one who couldn’t catch his breath. We sat quietly, staring at the empty worksheets on the table.

  “Hey,” he said, lowering his voice for my ears only. “What can I do to make this day easier on you?”

  He already had made it easier just by being there for me. But Keith was searching for something tangible, something he could roll his sleeves up and fix. I had an idea, a thought that had been brewing in the shadows of my mind for some time now. It was something he’d once offered, but I’d been too afraid to take him up on it at the time. Now it seemed as if there was nothing left to lose.

  “Actually, there is something you can do for me.”

  His eyes lit up, and it struck me that my happiness meant something to him. It was the first time I realized that this beautiful, fun, kind boy might actually like me for something other than my tutorial skills. As crazy as it seemed, I thought… maybe… possibly Keith McKallister might be falling for me.

  And as the first butterflies bore down on my belly, I bit back the elation and said, “I want you to teach me to surf.”

  A rapid-fire succession of blinks spoke to his surprise, but to his credit, Keith recovered quickly and nodded as he smiled. Challenge accepted. And then Keith raised the stakes even higher when his long, strong fingers reached for mine under the protection of the table. I lifted my eyes shyly, meeting his. He smiled, but it wasn’t his normal happy-go-lucky grin. No, this one was soft and warm and glowing with affection. What had I done to deserve this? Whatever it was, I was beyond grateful. Keith had taken one of the saddest days of my life and made it bearable. I wouldn’t forget.

  “I promise you won’t regret this,” he whispered, his lips dangerously close to my ear as if he didn’t care who was watching. And then, with his breath tickling my skin, Keith made me a final guarantee. “I’m about to change your life forever.”

  Turning my hand over, Keith’s fingers braided seamlessly with mine, and I held his hand with a purpose I’d never felt before. His words, his protective hand gripping mine, and those unwavering promises all conspired to set my heart on a collision course with destiny. It was in that moment I knew: I would love this boy forever.

  11

  Keith: The Shakedown

  “I’m pushing twice what you did. You hear me, Kali? Jules thinks you were either lazy or rippin’ him off.”

  I didn’t bother responding to Valentine, as he was just trying to goad me into a confrontation I could not afford to be in, at least not if I wanted to remain at this school.

  “Did you hear me?” he asked; only this time he smacked me upside the head.

  “I heard you,” I responded, carefully controlling the spite threatening to spew from my gut. “And can I be the first to congratulate you? I think you and Jules make a beautiful couple.”

  “Fuck you,” Valentine replied, his features twisted in irritation.

  Getting under my skin was priority number one for him these days, and it took everything in my power to keep my cool. His passive aggressive behavior had started almost immediately after he’d taken over my weed route, and since then it had only escalated. Although there were times, like now, where I wanted to pummel him to a bloody pulp, my hands were tied. Not only could I not afford a blow up at school, but also he had the backing of some unscrupulous dudes who’d been threatening to beat my ass simply for existing. Staying under the radar was a matter of survival.

  Drunk on power, Valentine had made me his cocktail of choice. Like any bully, he figured that emasculating me in front of a crowd would raise him up, but the truth was, my very existence was a threat to his rule. Valentine and I ran our businesses in vastly different manners. For the most part, I’d kept my dealings light and pain-free – a joke here, a laugh there. No reason to make a drug transaction an unpleasant experience. A little money and dope would change hands, and then we’d all go back to our lives like nothing nefarious had happened.

  Not so with Valentine. He went with the threat and intimidation approach, and had already alienated a large portion of my former cliental. In fact, many of them were begging me to come back, and that only further served to irritate the new king. If it weren’t for the loosely tethered ties I still had to the other guys in our group, I would probably already have been cast out of Utopia.

  Sometimes I wished Valentine would just do it and get it over with. I existed in a state of limbo anyway – not really here or there, and since meeting Sam, I was slowly coming to the realization that life would be easier for me as an outcast. Hell, I already was one. My reputation had taken such a hit that I held no real status in the school anymore anyway. And the further I got away from the popularity trap, the harder it was to figure out why I’d needed it so much. Maybe it was time to make that final leap and just accept that I wasn’t special enough to occupy a seat at the cool kids’ table.

  Pinpointing Sam across the quad, my gaze softened. She was like a beleaguered flower struggling to blossom in unyielding darkness. Her story today had shaken me, but it had also given me newfound respect for the girl who’d risen above the adversity with grace and kindness. Her strength dwarfed me – dwarfed every person in this school – and I’d already decided that I’d do whatever it took to help her through - starting with surfing and ending with… well, anything else she’d allow me to do.

  I’d liked girls before Sam, but not like this. Sometimes I even forgot to eat I was so wrapped up in thoughts of her. That’s how I knew she was different. I had plenty of female friends. We met at parties. We got wild. We got it on. But I’d never cared about their lives. I’d never hung on their every word. And I sure as hell didn’t call them up to ask how their test went or frost them a damn cupcake on their birthday. That was reserved for Sam… the bookish tutor who’d unexpectedly wound herself around me.

  Checking on her again, I saw Sam huddled over the table with her friend, much like she had been on the first day of school. I smiled, knowing exactly what they were talking about – me. Ah, damn, how I wanted to be over there immersed in their deeply dorky conversation. Even though I felt I knew her, Shannon and I had never met in person because I’d balked at walking over there and introducing myself. It was like I was still that uncertain 7th grader making decisions based on my shaky self-worth. Maybe I’d been trying so hard to fit in that I’d missed the obvious. I was born to be an outsider, skirting the fringes, and the sooner I could respect myself for it, the better.

  Sam looked up from her conversation and caught my eye. She smiled. My stomach tightened like a vice as shame gripped me. How could I speak of respect when I wasn’t willing to show it to the one person in this school who actually mattered to me? Sam deserved better. So why, then, was she over there and me here? Why was I not still holding her hand? Because I was a goddamn coward, that’s why. I was kee
ping us apart for no other reason than I was afraid of being judged and ridiculed by the people who claimed to be my friends. If they truly were, they’d be happy for me. They’d welcome her in with open arms.

  But that wasn’t how my crowd rolled, and I’d allowed myself to be a slave to their rules because I didn’t trust in myself enough to stand up for what I believed in. And, as long as I wore my insecurities around my neck like a shock collar, I’d never be good enough, smart enough, or confident enough to ever truly belong. It was the story of my life… and it had to stop. All I was doing was delaying the inevitable because if there was one thing I was certain of, it was that Sam and I were going to be together.

  Change was in the air, and it was up to me to make it happen. It’s not like I had much to lose anyway now that the number of skaters at Pearl Beach High had been drastically reduced after a drug-sniffing dog wiped out half our herd. You would have thought the cops were raiding a Mexican drug cartel’s warehouse the way my buddies were being lined up and marched off campus in handcuffs. That would have been me – should have been me. But I was one of the lucky ones, and that girl over there was the reason I was still here today.

  Valentine had survived the purge only because he’d been on a weeklong suspension after being caught stealing a test from the teacher’s desk. Screensaver lived too, but only because he was convincing enough in his stupidity to get out of all charges. Sadly, Fire Crotch hadn’t been as lucky. As bad luck would have it, one-fourth of the Three Musketeers had been kicked out of school, never to return.

  “Are you into that chick?” Valentine asked, his eyes trained in the direction I was looking. The smug smile on his face instantly irritated me. She was a joke to him.

  “What if I am?” I challenged.

  “Wait.” His brow rose as he darted his eyes between Sam and me. “I was just kidding. Are you being serious right now?”

  I clenched my fists, scowling at my nemesis. “Very.”

  “Dude.” He snorted out a laugh, nearly falling off the table in the process. “If you think that’s hot, you need to do more drugs. ”

  I shot to my feet, lunging for Valentine. My only goal was to physically wipe that smirk off his face, but before I could get to him, Screensaver jumped between us, pushing me back.

  “Don’t do it,” he warned. “It’s not worth it, Kali. You’ve come too far to risk it all.”

  Blinking, I let Screensaver’s words of wisdom sink in. No way could I let the likes of Valentine ruin the good thing I had going on. Drawing a deep breath, I unfurled my fists and addressed my friend by his given name. “You’re right, James. He’s not worth it.”

  James glanced nervously between the two of us. He’d been smart enough to keep in the neutral zone of this particular pissing match. “Well… that’s…uh… not really what I said.”

  Now that he was secure enough in his safety, Valentine puffed out his chest before dispensing with more trash talk. “You’d better watch your back, Dickweed, that’s all I’m saying.”

  “Yeah? Why wait? I’m right here.” I drew my arms to the sides in invitation. “Give me your best shot.”

  He wouldn’t. The biggest talkers always had the least to show. For all his bravado, Brett was not a fighter. I’d watched him cry on the street from road burns after falling off his skateboard, and run into the bushes when trouble came calling. Trust me when I said he didn’t want a punch to the face any more than I wanted to deliver it.

  “No? Okay then. Leave my girl out of it, and you and I have no problem. Are we good?”

  No response.

  I took a step forward and repeated myself. “Are we good?”

  His shoulders slumped. “Yeah, man. I don’t know what your problem is.”

  Just what I thought. Nothing to show for it.

  Gripping James’s shoulder, I smiled. “Thanks for talking me down.”

  “Dude, always.” Screensaver nodded his bobblehead before lowering his voice. “And, uh, just for the record – she’s hot. I’d totally hit that.”

  It was meant as a compliment, albeit a backwards one, so I let it slide because this was Screensaver, the guy who still made bunny ears when tying his shoes.

  As I strode off, Valentine called out. “Where are you going?”

  “Where I should have gone five years ago. See you around, Valentine.”

  Each step I took away brought with it renewed vigor, and crossing the threshold of Utopia, I breathed in the fresh air. Finally, I knew just where I was headed.

  Sam and Shannon watched my approach open-mouthed in awe. I came to a halt at their table, the eyes of those around us burning into my back.

  “Hey, Shannon.” I nodded my head in her direction, smiling. “I’m Keith.”

  “Yes, you are.” She giggled, the flush only multiplying her endearing freckles. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  I made a show of cringing. “Any of it good?”

  “A very, very tiny bit.” She used her fingers to emphasis the point.

  Sam slapped her arm and they laughed. There were no pretenses here, no one-upping each other. It was this type of friendship I needed to aspire to.

  “It’s nice seeing you around these parts, Keith,” Shannon said, glancing behind me. “But you might want to get back before your friends stage an intervention.”

  My eyes now locked on Sam’s, I didn’t bother to turn around. I knew what I’d find – lots of spectator eyes straining in my direction. Who cared? Let them stare. I wasn’t going back. Ever.

  “Can I sit?”

  Sam nodded, smiling as she held my gaze with her warm, honey-hued eyes. “What took you so long?”

  12

  Samantha: The Turtle Roll

  6:30 Saturday morning. That’s what he’d said. I glanced at my watch. 6:32. Yep, he wasn’t coming. I should have confirmed with him last night. Best case scenario, he just forgot. Worst, he’d decided I wasn’t worth the effort. I mean, what did I expect? One day at my lunch table and suddenly I was trust falling into his arms.

  I should go. In fact, I never should’ve come in the first place. Stepping into that ocean would be my nightmare come true. Something about the unchartered depths of the unknown terrified me. My fear had only grown over the years, and I somehow associated the ocean with death – my death. And since Sully’s suicide, I stayed clear of danger, preferring to exist in a bubble wrapped world.

  I checked my watch again. 6:33. Screw you, Keith McKallister – making me sit on a bench, next to a garbage can, in the parking lot of your choice! If he thought I was going to tutor him after leaving me here to be dive-bombed by his shitty memorial seagulls, he’d better think again. Good luck passing geometry now, you jerk. I mean, good lord, everyone knows parallel lines don’t intersect!

  As I sat humiliated on a park bench at 6:34 in the morning, my body began to rebel. I tightened the sweatshirt around me as a wave of shivers swept through me. I wasn’t sure if the reaction was due to the cold or if I were quivering with fear. I lifted my head and looked around at the fine layer of mist. The sunshine we enjoyed on a daily basis had yet to burn through the coastal fog, making the air extra chilly today.

  My teeth were chattering. How had I even considered submerging my body in the unruly Pacific Ocean? Tourists tended to believe the California coast sported nice, lukewarm waters to frolic in. Um…no. This was not the Caribbean. The Pacific was too deep, too wild, and too inhabited by dangerous creatures to give off that warm, fuzzy feeling.

  The revving of an engine in the distance caught my attention, and I froze in anticipation. Please be him. Please save my faith in humanity.

  “Sam! Hey, Sam!” Keith yelled my name out the window, adding a horn to his noisy entrance. And just like that, I forgot how much I’d despised him. Or how cold I was. Or how terrified I was. He’d come for me, and that was all that mattered.

  I jogged over to him and slapped the arm he had dangling out the window. “My name is Samantha, jerk.”

  “Sorr
y I’m late. I couldn’t get the damn truck to start. Are you pissed? You look pissed.”

  I shook my head.

  “Liar. You were plotting my death, weren’t you?”

  How accurately he knew me. I laughed, nodding. “Yes.”

  He hopped out of his truck, gave me a hug, and then went around the back, pulling two surfboards out of the flat bed.

  I ran my hand over the rust bucket he called a truck. “Nice ride. What happened to your piece of shit car?”

  “Well, see, as it so happens, there are plenty of shitty vehicles to choose from at my house. This particular one works well for trips to the beach. Surfboards. See?”

  “Ah.” I nodded. Be still my heart. Keith was being so adorably chatty – just the way I liked him. “I see.”

  “Officially, I’m only allowed to drive the Surfmobile to and from the beach because every time this baby hits fifty miles per hour, things start flying off. Can you believe my dad has had this truck for over twenty years?”

  I glanced over the ancient beast. “Yes. Yes, I can.”

  With his winning personality and those affecting eyes of his, I’d almost forgotten that Keith was about to blow my predictable world all to hell. “Relax, Sam. You look like you just found a severed finger in your chili bowl.”

  “I wish. I told you I don’t like the ocean. ”

  He shoved a wetsuit into my hands. “And I told you, I’m about to change that. Go put this on.”

  I held up the tiny suit, seriously beginning to question not only my sanity but his as well. Did he really think I could fit more than a thigh into that itty-bitty wet suit?

  “It’s my sister’s,” he explained.

  “The four year old’s?”

  “No,” he laughed. “Emma’s.”

  Oh, well, that explained it. I’d seen his sister around school, and even with my now ten-pound weight loss, there was no way I was fitting into a suit she wore. She was sun-kissed perfection. I was like her pale, plump, fraternal twin.