Sunrise

by Melissa J Morgan

  Plus—she remembered, her stomach sinking—it wasn’t like he was into her. He liked Danica, obviously. By now, they were probably boyfriend-girlfriend (whatever that entailed) and off basking in the sun together or whatever. So, really, it was better for her sanity and her focus if she didn’t run into Micah. Surfing with a fear of sharks was bad enough—she couldn’t imagine what it would be like to surf with a broken heart.

  Cassie shook her head of all thoughts related to Micah and gazed out at the stretch of ocean before her. She didn’t know if anything was more beautiful than this patch of Kona water in the early morning sunlight. She loved this place. She loved this water. That was the truth.

  As she waded farther in, she heard Tori’s voice shouting her name. “Wait up!”

  Tori ran up, dragging one of the camp’s white surfboards behind her. She dove into the water and paddled with loud splashes over to where Cassie stood in the water.

  “Can I join you?” Tori said. That was the thing about Tori. No matter what she found out about her cousin, no matter how flawed Cassie turned out to be, Tori was always there by her side. Accepting her for her. Now that was what made Cassie lucky.

  “What are you even doing up, Tor?” Cassie said. “What time is it?”

  “Insane o’clock in the morning, what else! I thought I’d hang with you since you spend, like, all your free time doing dishes now. I never get to see you!”

  “I know, it sucks,” Cassie said.

  “So . . .” Tori said, pausing meaningfully. “We’re going surfing today, huh?”

  “We?” Cassie said with amusement.

  “What, don’t you think I’m dressed for it?” Tori did a quick turn to model her cute polka-dot bikini.

  “You look great,” Cassie said. “You’re all spotty.”

  Tori smiled. The waves were building, starting to crash around them. Cassie was feeling the momentum. She felt the salt spray on the wind, the warm jostle of the currents under the water. She got up on the board, straddled it. She was here with her cousin Tori and for some reason that made her feel totally safe.

  “You can do it,” Tori said, eyes solemn in the bright sunlight. “I know it, Cass. I know.”

  Hearing Tori say it, seeing her eyes—it sort of made Cassie believe it, too.

  “I’m gonna try,” she said. She put a hand over her own eyes and gazed out at the rolling waves. “I’ll try for one of those.”

  “You go!” Tori said. “I’ll hang here.” She stretched out full-length on her board like a sunbather. As Cassie paddled toward the bigger waves she saw Tori lift an arm in the air and give her a thumbs-up.

  Cassie was paddling. She was moving faster, faster. A nice wave was coming at her and she was going to jump up to meet it.

  She heard Tori yelling: “Go! Go! Go!”

  She heard the wind rushing in her ears, the water splashing.

  She saw the wave coming.

  And then she saw it go. The wave went far, far away into the distance—a beautiful sight to see, except Cassie wasn’t riding on it. Cassie was right where she was, immobile.

  Soon, Tori paddled over on her board. Cassie knew she was about to give some encouragement, attempt to get her pumped up to try again, no matter how many tries it took. But then, without Cassie having to say a word, Tori seemed to sense something and her expression shifted. “We can just lounge on the boards . . .” she said gently. “It’s too early to get a real tan, but we can try . . .”

  Cassie shrugged. She wanted to cry, but she didn’t. “We can do that just as well on the sand, can’t we?” she choked out.

  “Sure,” Tori said. “Let’s totally hit the sand. We have time before breakfast. And I have magazines in my bag and everything.”

  Gratefully, Cassie followed her cousin out of the ocean. She wasn’t sure how she’d make it through the expo on Saturday. She had a sinking feeling she knew just what would happen if she bailed out on everyone and didn’t surf, and it would have nothing to do with garbage duty or a few more sinks of dirty dishes.

  If she didn’t surf the expo, she’d lose her spot at Ohana. They’d send her home.

  Ten

  Cassie was set to surf in the first heat. There she was, the morning of the expo, dressed in her bikini and her rash guard, waxing her board on the sand—just like any other surfer prepping to compete. Still, she hadn’t practiced first; she couldn’t. She hadn’t actually taken one solid ride on her surfboard since the accident . . . the incident . . . the . . . there was no word for it. Just call it the day that effectively sunk her whole entire life.

  But if I don’t surf, I’ll get kicked out of Ohana, Cassie told herself. If I don’t have Ohana, what do I have . . . ? I have to surf today. I have to.

  Telling herself this didn’t make it any easier. She could hardly keep her head on straight, and the self-imposed guilt trip wasn’t helping.

  Besides, there was the noise. Lots of it. The people, everywhere. The campers chanting and cheering—maybe even for her. The announcers pumping up the crowd over the speakers; the ocean cleared, ready for the show; the colorful flags whipping in the wind. There was Danica, stretching out on her own board, set to surf a later heat. And there was Micah, hanging out with the guys. The boys’ heats would come later. It was undeniable: Today was the expo and Cassie was going to have to take part in it, or else.

  She remembered the competitions she’d been in over the years. What she usually felt when she was about to show her stuff in a surf contest was an exhilarated high, her heart pounding steadily, her focus studied and sharp. Surfing or not surfing was never the question—winning was. At least that’s how it used to be.

  Now there was no time for the inner psychobabble that might conquer her fears. She was set to go in the very first heat. This was round one of the girls’ contest, with Camp Ohana surfers pitted against local teenagers from Kona and against surfers from another summer camp on Big Island called Hilo Surfgirls. The surfers who won their heats in this first round went on to round two. Then the surfers in round two went against one another to determine the ultimate winner. After the afternoon’s expo events, points would be tallied and the winners and prize would be announced. Even so, Cassie didn’t want to make it to round two. She just wanted to get through this one heat, this one round. Surf a couple runs, hold her head up, let someone else get the win for a change.

  How hard could that be?

  The surfers for the first heat were lining up now. Cassie took her spot beside the two girls she was competing against this round. The whistle blew. And they were off!

  Cassie lifted her surfboard over her head and ran for the water. The girl in the red suit was from Kona; she reached the water first. The girl in the black suit was from the Hilo Surfgirls camp; she was going pro, that’s the talk Cassie had heard on the beach. They both seemed like strong competitors. Good, Cassie thought. Maybe one of them will be awesome. Maybe one will be so good, she’ll dominate the whole heat and won’t give anyone else a shot at a wave. A girl could hope, anyway.

  Soon enough, the three competitors were paddling out toward deeper water. Whoever rode the most waves successfully won the heat. These were simpler rules than Cassie was used to—she was fine with that.

  The Kona girl took the first wave—she sailed far and fast, and the crowd cheered. The Hilo Surfgirls camper caught a wave, bigger than the first, and wowed the crowd with a perfect cutback. Cassie, for her part, hadn’t gone for a wave yet. Now the Kona girl was paddling back, ready for a second wave. When one came, Cassie let her have it.

  Cassie thought she heard someone yelling her name, but she didn’t turn toward shore to see who it was. Her breathing was fast, her limbs heavy, her grip on the board loose and not steady at all.

  The Hilo Surfgirls camper paddled closer. “What’s up?” she called over to Cassie. “Taking your time? The heat’s over in, like, three minutes.”

  Cassie shrugged. “I’m just waiting for the right wave,” she called back.

&n
bsp; The other girl pointed out in the distance. “That one looks just right,” she yelled. “Race ya for it!” She started paddling. Cassie found herself caught up in the moment. She started going for it, too. Then she realized what she was doing and she reacted fast. She was turning her board, turning in a whole other direction. She was still paddling, and faster than before, but not toward that wave and not toward any other wave. She was paddling in the only direction she could. She was paddling back in.

  Minutes later, Cassie stood dripping onshore. She’d let go of her yellow surfboard and it lay flat at her feet, still attached to her ankle by its leash. Voices seemed to be coming at her from every direction.

  “What was that out there?” a C.I.T. was saying.

  “She choked!” said another. “Did you see her choke?!”

  “She did not just leave in the middle of a heat. She has to be joking. Please tell me she’s joking,” Haydee, one of the surf counselors, said.

  “Dude, I don’t think she’s joking,” Zeke, the other surf counselor, said.

  “Giving the heat to those other girls would be the lamest joke ever,” Danica said. “Cassie, if you didn’t want to surf, why didn’t you just say so?”

  “Yeah, Cassie, why?” said someone else.

  “Are you okay?” Andi said, pushing through the crowd. Tori was behind her and repeated it: “Omigod, are you okay? Are you okay?”

  “Cassie, I don’t understand what just happened. What’s the problem?” Simona asked. She stepped through everyone else and stood right in front of Cassie, wanting a response.

  It was all too much. Maybe Cassie could have had a clear and coherent answer, if they all weren’t ganging up on her like this. Across the sand, the whistle went off. Cassie’s heat was over and she didn’t even get a place in it; she was disqualified. Now she was going home for sure. They might as well point her to the bunk and send her packing.

  She opened her mouth to explain, but what came out was just, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t ready, I tried, I—” She saw Micah on the edge of the crowd, saw him eyeing her, seeming like he wanted to say something but not. After the show she just put on, he’d probably never speak to her again. There was only one word for how she felt: ashamed.

  Defeated, she bent down and unhooked the leash from her ankle. Her surfboard lay unattached, facedown on the wet sand.

  Simona put her arm around Cassie and led her away. Cassie was reeling. It was all happening so fast—going to camp, being a normal kid, getting kicked out. Did it even happen? She felt numb as she followed Simona to a stand of palm trees on the edge of the beach.

  “Your coach called and told me about your accident,” Simona said softly, once they were alone. “I didn’t realize it was still such an issue.”

  Cassie changed the subject. “Can I stay the night?” she asked. “Can I watch the rest of the expo and see who wins the surf contest and hang out with my cousin a little and just stay the one night?”

  Simona stared at Cassie, confused. “What are you talking about?”

  Cassie tried to pull herself together. She was a pro surfer, and if a pro ran out of the ocean like she just did in a real contest? Why, she’d surely lose her sponsor and her spot on the team. “I’m talking about getting kicked out of camp,” Cassie told Simona calmly. She felt sure she knew the consequences.

  “Cassie.” Simona had her hands on both of Cassie’s shoulders, like she wanted to shake her. “I never said anything about you being kicked out.”

  “But I choked,” Cassie said. “Didn’t you see me choke?”

  “I saw,” Simona said.

  “And?” Cassie said. Now she was the one who was confused. Aren’t they going to send me home? she thought.

  Simona cleared her throat. Cassie expected a speech. Something about courage and overcoming fear and how nothing happened with that shark and she needed to face it and get on with her life. All speeches she’d heard before—from her coach, from her parents, from everyone, pretty much, except Tori.

  But all Simona said was, “Cassie, are you all right?”

  “I—” Cassie started to say that of course she was all right; she was always all right. But in reality she wasn’t. Maybe it was time to tell an adult.

  “No,” she admitted. “I couldn’t surf today, I just couldn’t. I have to be perfect or else there’s no point doing it at all.”

  “Cassie, I understand, I do. But you have to understand something as well—this is camp, not the pro circuit. You don’t have to be perfect. I’m sorry if the surfing contest made you think that, but we just want you to have fun, that’s what this is about. It’s the summer. You’re a C.I.T. You’re sixteen! It’s time to relax and have fun.”

  Cassie gazed down at her toes. While Simona had been talking she’d gone ahead and buried them in the sand. That’s about how she felt, covered up and barely able to breathe. It would be nice to give up and relax, to allow herself to simply have fun for once in her life. “I don’t know how to do that,” Cassie admitted.

  “Don’t you worry,” Simona said. “I’ll keep my eye on you. We’ll work at it.”

  “Okay,” Cassie said. “Is it true about Oahu?” she added. “Do the winners of this contest get to go?”

  Simona smiled, zipped her lips, and didn’t say a word.

  Cassie was beginning to realize just how big this Oahu contest was supposed to be, and she could have been in it. But you know what? Maybe it’s not my contest to win, she thought.

  She noticed Danica standing on the sand, stretching before her bright pink board, a determined look on her face. Her heat was up next. Danica saw Cassie and shook her head. Then, uncharacteristically, she gave a slight smile. Next time, she mouthed.

  Cassie nodded, acknowledging the dare. Next time, she thought. Next time, in fact, she had a feeling Danica might be the one to beat.

  Then Cassie set her eyes on someone else. Someone she’d been avoiding all week and would probably avoid for the rest of her life, thanks to what just happened.

  There he was, Micah. He was standing beside his surfboard, looking out toward the water. He had this intense look on his face, completely focused—Cassie knew it well. She also had a feeling he had a good shot at the prize. But she didn’t walk over and tell him that. She just watched him for a long moment until he turned and she was afraid he’d see. Then she looked away.

  “I’m going to get a good spot on the beach,” Cassie told Simona, finally beginning to relax a little. “You know . . . to see who wins.”

  Danica nailed her first heat, and then her second. She was a clear choice for the winner, once the points were tallied. Cassie sat back and watched, not exactly surprised. Okay, maybe a little. Danica had talked the talk, but Cassie wasn’t sure if she’d be able to live up to it. And here she did.

  Tori came up and put her arm around Cassie. “You sure you’re okay?” she asked Cassie.

  “I’m better than I was this morning,” Cassie admitted. It was true: Though she felt mortified, she also felt honest. She’d finally done what she wanted to do, not what anyone else wanted. It was freeing.

  Together, Tori and Cassie watched Danica walk across the patch of sand like she owned it.

  “I’ll hate her if you want me to,” Tori said.

  “Nah,” Cassie said. “No need.”

  “Are you sure about that?” Tori said. Danica and Micah were now at the shoreline, talking.

  Cassie looked, then stopped looking, then stopped trying to seem like she wasn’t looking and just openly watched them. Micah was patting Danica on the shoulder in congratulations for a good show at the contest. Danica was pulling him in for a hug. Then they were hugging—out there, in the bright sun, for anyone to see. It pained Cassie to watch it, but she couldn’t help it.

  Tori raised an eyebrow. “Did he talk to you about what happened?” she asked.

  “He who?”

  Tori set her eyes on Cassie like she was dumb. Of course he was Micah.

  Cassie let out a huge
sigh. “Not yet.”

  A whistle blew. It was the guys’ turn at the surf contest now. Micah was in the first heat. Cassie watched him line up, run into the water with his two competitors, and paddle out for the waves. She had a feeling about him—a feeling he’d win.

  “Maybe he’s waiting for me to talk to him first,” Cassie said. “And Tori? The answer to the question I know you want to ask me is yes. I like him, okay? I like him. It’s way too late, obviously. But now you know.”

  Strangely, Tori started to smile, a smile so wide it showed teeth. “Good,” she said. “Because I happened upon some information that just might interest you . . .”

  “What information?”

  “Danica and Micah? Not an item.”

  Cassie whipped around to stare at her cousin. “Really?”

  “I wouldn’t lie about that,” Tori said. “Pinkie swear.”

  “So . . .” Cassie said.

  Tori continued to smile impassively.

  “So now that you told me, aren’t you going to say anything else?” Cassie said. “Like, tell me what I should do about it?”

  Tori turned to her, serious now. “Are you asking me for advice?”

  “You’re the one with the boyfriend . . .” Cassie said.

  Tori shrugged. “Who knows how long that’ll last.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Tori shook her head quickly. “Nothing,” she said. “Eddie and me, we don’t have much to talk about—he’s a little boring, if you want the truth.” She changed the subject. “But you know what? If you want Micah to know you like him, you have to do this really insane thing I’ve only heard about. It’s, like, totally intense. I don’t know if I should tell you . . .”

  “Tell me,” Cassie insisted. She could see that the first of the guys had taken a wave. The crowd was getting on their feet now, cheering and yelling. Over the noise, Cassie said, “Tor, you have to tell me.”