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The Trouble With Gravity

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by K. K. Allen




  The Trouble With Gravity

  Copyright © 2019 by K.K. Allen

  All rights reserved.

  Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. The author acknowledges the trademarked and copyrighted status and owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these works is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  Cover Design: Sarah Hansen © Okay Creations

  Cover Photographer: Perrywinkle Photography

  Editor: Red Adept Editing

  * * *

  For more information, please write to SayHello@KKAllen.com

  To my beeches Heather, Harloe, and Kate. I can’t imagine this book world without your friendships. Here’s to onesie parties, nachos, daily banter, and … you know what else.

  Dear Reader,

  * * *

  In an effort to give you an interactive experience, YouTube links have been included throughout this book with no copyright infringement intended. All links point to their rightful owners for you to proceed down the rabbit hole like I do on the daily. Ha! Viewing the videos is not required to read, however, my intention is to bring you the inspiration that went into creating this story while you follow along.

  * * *

  Enjoy!

  K.K.

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Epilogue

  Center of Gravity

  For My Readers

  Want More?

  Thank You

  Books by K.K. Allen

  About the Author

  Prologue

  Kai, eight years old

  Calm hushed over glossy blue seas as we sailed through open water. With my dad at the helm and me sitting cross-legged in the bow of the boat, I basked in the perfect winds, which were doing most of the work. Unpredictable as it was, the sea was never calm for long.

  I called out through the cockpit window, “When will we be home, Daddy?”

  His eyes remained straight ahead as he shouted back, his voice fighting against the wind. “We should arrive at the dock tomorrow! Early evening, I’d say!”

  I leaned back on my palms and looked up, letting the sun warm my face. This had been one of our longer journeys, round trip from Ko’Olina Harbor in Oahu, Hawaii to Los Angeles, California then back again, with only a short week of rest in between. After the past eighteen days of constant movement, I was looking forward to some normalcy. Sturdy ground. Hawaiian soil. Fresh manapua and poke from the nearest corner store. I was practically salivating in anticipation.

  My life was one big adventure, thanks to my father. He believed more heart existed in the ocean than anywhere else on Earth. A home was wherever we chose to make it, but traveling among endless waters with nothing but nature to revel in for days on end—that was his idea of living.

  “Sailing is the only universe you’ll ever need,” he told me later that day as he was slacking off the main sheet to relieve pressure on the sail. “You’ll never get closer to nature than being right here, Kai.” He raised his arms and waved them. “Look at us, working with the universe instead of against it. You resist these winds, these waves, you’ll likely pay for it. But”—he lowered the main halyard, and the sail started to come down—“if you’re one with nature, like this…” He continued to take tension off the left downhole before cranking the main halyard back up then replacing the main sheet with the reef line. The sheet puffed as wind filled it with a heavy thwak. He’d just made a smaller sail out of a bigger one to work better with the changing winds. “Then the wind will always be on your side.” He raised his arms and grinned as he admired his handiwork. “See?”

  I felt an immediate shift at my feet. What felt a bit unsteady moments before was much smoother, like we were riding with the waves instead of against them, yet we were still controlling our direction.

  His kind eyes met mine before he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, squeezing me close. “This will be you one day, Kai. You’ll become the master of the seas and make your old man proud.”

  I hoped that was true. My chest felt as if it could burst just from watching him in his element. My father was a man who made me believe anything was possible. He taught me the true value of life through experiences most would never dare to dream. He was a sailor, a circumnavigator. But most importantly, he was my dad.

  “Do you think Mom would have enjoyed living on the boat, like we do?” I asked him later that night after we’d shared a pot of macaroni and cheese.

  We were sitting opposite each other at our slightly tippy wooden table, playing a game of rummy. His cards were fanned out in front of him as he ran a finger over their top edges, considering his next move. “Who do you think came up with your name, Kai?” He peered at me over his cards, a smile lifting his cheeks.

  Kai meant “sea” in Hawaiian. It was apparently a boy’s name, but my parents didn’t care about conventional things like that. They liked the name and the meaning, so there it was: Kai Kalani Ashley.

  “Your mother loved to sail. It’s how we met, you know?”

  I smiled. “Yes, I know, Daddy.”

  I’d heard the story many times—a daring woman and a brave young man who met as they were both sailing solo around the world, straight out of high school. They met somewhere in the middle and followed each other to every port until they reached home—well, Oahu for my mom and the Big Island for my father. Once they arrived at their final destination, they traded their two sailboats for one. They got married shortly after, against my mother’s family’s wishes. I was born seven years later. Four years after that, my mother passed away from a severe case of pneumonia.

  “And, yes,” my father continued, “I think she would have loved to live right here with us. She’d be so proud of you, kaikamahine o ke Kai.” Brave daughter of the sea.

  “I miss her,” I said, trying to hide my yawn. The truth was I didn’t remember much of her, but I still ached for the woman I’d barely known.

 
My dad smiled and reached over to wipe a tired tear that had escaped. “It’s time for bed, Kai.”

  I nodded and watched as he made up my bed above the dining table. It reminded me of a coffin, the way the rotted panels of wood secured me on all sides. On nights when the boat’s turbulence would wake me from rocking, it served its purpose.

  After I climbed in, he pulled the pink unicorn comforter up to my chin and kissed my forehead. I smiled and rested my eyes. “Night, Daddy. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Kai Bear. Sleep well. We’ll be home soon.”

  I yawned again, fatigue already taking me under. “But I’m already home, Daddy.”

  I awoke to what sounded like a train barreling past. My heart was already pounding so fast that I needed a minute to figure out a storm was rolling through. Wind whistled as rain splattered the deck above. My body tossed left then right, slamming into the walls of my bed as waves thrashed below.

  My dad emerged from the aft cabin, his bedroom, at the end of the hall. His hair was standing in odd directions, and his eyes appeared to still be foggy from a deep sleep. I didn’t know what time it was, but by the bright glow of the moon through the starboard porthole, I figured it was close to midnight.

  “Kai, are you okay?” He threw a hand out to brace himself against another intense rock of the boat.

  “I’m okay, Daddy. It’s rough out there tonight, isn’t it?”

  He moved beside my bed and ruffled my hair. “It’s just a little wind, Kai Bear. I’m going up to check on the jib. Go back to sleep.”

  I wrapped my arms around my pillow as he climbed the three stairs leading to the deck and let himself out, slamming the door behind himself. That was how my father managed to solo sail everywhere we went. With unyielding confidence. Not even a sudden change in weather could freak him out.

  He kept a schedule each night with an alarm by his ear to wake him up every twenty minutes to check on conditions. Most of the time, I never woke to witness his work ethic, but that night, I couldn’t help but think of my father as a superhero.

  After another few minutes, exhaustion came over me. I fell in and out of sleep, my mind waking me often, and I hoped to see my father walk back into the galley. But I knew better. Normally, when the weather took a turn like that, he’d stay topside until things settled, sometimes even until morning.

  I didn’t know why this time just felt… different.

  I counted to three: three increments of twenty minutes, signaled by my father’s preprogrammed alarm, my body growing more alert as time went on. Then my eyes locked on something bright orange hanging on the hook beside the door my father had exited. Fear wrapped its ugly hands around my heart and squeezed. My father had scolded me frequently about wearing my life jacket when above deck. Why isn’t he wearing his?

  Once I took a forced breath, I refocused on my surroundings and noticed the seas had calmed considerably since my dad had left. I scrambled from my bed and went to look for him, convincing myself I would find him snoring away in the cockpit despite the wind and rain, like a true sailor.

  He wasn’t there.

  I could feel my heartbeat in my throat as I flipped on the boat’s lights in the cockpit and searched the bow. He wasn’t there either.

  Frowning, I made my way toward the stern, holding onto the side of the boat to steady myself against the rocking. There were only so many places he could be. I checked every shadow, every crevice, every inch of the small vessel before returning to the open deck.

  “Daddy!” I yelled, battling with the wind.

  Panic cycloned in my chest as I whipped myself in a circle, searching through darkness and tiny glimpses of light coming from the sky and the cockpit.

  “Daddy!” I screamed again, this time louder, unable to help the cry that came with it as it pushed up my throat.

  He’d always answered me on my first call, no matter how heavy the rain and wind, as though he could sense when I needed him most. Right then was one of those times.

  I’d learned to find beauty in the swells, to go with the flow and let the weather control my speed. I’d learned all about celestial navigation and how to anchor a boat in the reef. My daddy had taught me everything, so I thought. He’d never taught me what to do if he ever left me, which was exactly what happened that night.

  As I spun in a slow circle, my eyes wildly searching the moonlit water for any sign of life, I already knew the truth.

  My daddy was gone.

  Chapter 1

  Kai

  A droplet of rain pelted my nose just as my phone buzzed inside my purse. Ignoring it, I picked up my pace. I was only two blocks from Gravity Dance Complex for an audition, and the anticipation was already knotting my gut. The looming clouds only added to the whirlwind of my anxiety. I couldn’t afford to let anything stand between me and this gig, not even Mother Nature.

  While the details of the job were confidential, my agent, Sheena, knew it was an opportunity I couldn’t refuse. Months had passed since I’d seen a paycheck, and my reserves were running dry. A single audition didn’t guarantee anything for my future, but I was hungry, determined. And… well, desperate. The details simply didn’t matter when time was running out, and mine was.

  “It’s for the lead in a Broadway production,” Sheena had told me.

  At first, I thought she was joking with me. She couldn’t have meant actual Broadway. I lived in Los Angeles, where the dance opportunities were strong, and while shows frequently traveled through LA, theater life was a beast of its own, a beast I stayed far, far away from.

  “The lead?” I coughed out a laugh, thinking she was probably vaping some THC again. “Maybe you need a refresher on my skills. Singing is not one of them. Dancing and acting, yes.” I should have ended the conversation right there.

  As confident as I was in the skills I did have, I felt a sting of disappointment with my admission. I’d grown up admiring the Broadway scene and dreaming of a chance to be part of a production like Wicked or Rent, my favorites as a kid, but I learned the hard way that I wasn’t a triple-threat like most of those stars.

  I never forgot the look of horror that came over my choir teacher’s face—horror I’d initially confused for admiration—when I had raised my hand, offering myself for the part of Grizabella in our eighth-grade production of Cats. At that time, I was confident I was destined to be the next Idina Menzel. Yup, I had so many stars in my eyes I was blind to the truth. Until I stood center stage at my Cats audition, spotlight parked on me, and I belted out the first line to “Memories.” Everyone in the room burst into a fit of stifled giggles, teachers included.

  That was when the realization hit. Theater talent could dance, act, and sing. I could dance, and I could act, but my singing voice was as angelic as a flock of dying seagulls. I had no business being there.

  “I’ll be laughed off that stage if I so much as open my mouth,” I told Sheena.

  “You don’t need to sing,” she assured me. “It’s a dance-only musical. What are they calling it?” What sounded like paper shuffled while she tried to find an answer to her own question. “Ah, a jukebox musical.”

  “Huh? Is that a thing?”

  “Yes,” she said with an annoyance that made me cringe. “It’s a thing. The entire show is told through live music and dance. And I think it’s a perfect next step for you. You said you were looking for something different, something that involved travel and a new challenge. Well, this is it.”

  Though I was still doubtful, my interest was piqued. With the rent for my tiny studio apartment skyrocketing at the end of the month and no solid income to feel comfortable committing to anything, a travel gig did seem like the best option. With free room and board, I could save money while I worked. Then when I came back to LA, I could find a place I could afford, even if that meant moving in with my best friend, Wayne, for a few months.

  So I accepted the invite-only audition, which was based on no more than a demo reel of my dancing experience and my agent�
��s reputable word. Apparently, that was enough for them to want a second look. The producers and directors and casting agents all wanted to see what I could do live on stage. And I would show them, if I could only get to Gravity without any casualties.

  My phone buzzed again, bringing me back to the present. Only one person would be calling me obsessively right now, and as much as I wanted to ignore her, I couldn’t. Blood raced through my veins as I halted at a crosswalk while the rest of the crowd moved forward. I pulled my phone from my activity bag and puffed out an annoyed breath when I saw Sheena’s name light up the screen.

  “Your timing sucks,” I told her.

  Her smoky laughter filled the phone line. “Just checking in.” Sheena paused as a horn blared from the road. “Tell me you’re there already. You have fifteen minutes before they close registration.”

  My stomach squeezed, my chest heavy with dread. “I know, I know. My landlord was pounding on my door this morning, so I had to sneak out the window and book it down the fire-escape stairs.” A laugh bubbled from my throat at the memory, but I bit my lip so Sheena couldn’t hear. “I’m on my way. Construction is a bitch, and I’m footing it.”

 

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