I Am Girl Power

by Katie Cross

  Emmett tossed his body off the dock but bent at the waist just before he hit the water. A spray of water misted the air without a smack. Justin shook his head.

  “No good.”

  The judges awarded Emmett negative one, zero, and negative twenty-four points.

  “What will they win?” I asked.

  Justin snorted. “Eternal respect. I mean … look at Sione. He’s pure Tongan brawn. In surface area alone he wins.”

  Jameson, a counselor, stepped up next. He turned the jump into a dive at the last minute and surfaced to hisses and boos. Sione strutted around the dock, smug. Most of them were jeopardizing their own attempts.

  But perhaps if I could get it just right…

  I slid out of my flip-flops and peeled my t-shirt off, revealing a dark olive tankini beneath. Justin glanced over, then quickly looked away.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I want to try.”

  His mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope.”

  I left my shirt folded on top of my flip-flops and walked down the pier. Another splash preceded raucous laughter. Toby, a counselor, surfaced with a cough.

  “Disqualified,” said a judge. “No visible redness or audible smack.”

  The hilarity bubbled down as I closed in.

  “She’s gonna do it.”

  “No way!”

  “Go Iron Chef!”

  Their diffuse whispers at my back gave me courage. Mark stepped up behind me. “Blister,” he sang, clutching my shoulders. “You wanna try?”

  “Yep.”

  The whispers of the crowd increased.

  “She’s going up against Sione!”

  “He’d eat her for breakfast!”

  “No way she’ll do it. Ten on Sione.”

  “I’ll take that.”

  Sione regarded me through tapered eyes. His lips perked up in a half-smile. “You think you can beat me?” he asked, his voice rumbling. His muscular pecs danced as he folded his arms across his chest.

  “Yep.”

  “Little girl,” he drawled, a burr of an accent in his voice. “I was born on an island in Tonga. We live on the water. It obeys me.”

  I grinned. “We’ll see about that.”

  “All right, gentleman,” JJ called over the simmering conversation. “We have a new contestant!”

  Rampant applause rang over the lake. I couldn’t tell if they were rooting for me or saw me as the underdog.

  “All right, little Miss Thang,” Sione said, slapping his hands together. “Let’s see you command that water like a palangi princess.”

  I stood at the edge of the pier, my toes curled over the edge. The warm, wet, splintered wood felt rough against my feet. Most of the guys had just fallen off, arms spread wide. But I’d try something different. I closed my eyes and prayed I wouldn’t scream.

  Silence descended on the crowd. The anticipation pulsed like a strobe light. I crouched low, drew in a breath, and sprang into the air like a released coil. Midflight, I straightened, pressed my stomach out, held my arms and legs high, and closed my eyes.

  The moment I hit the water, a wave of pain raced from my stomach to my chest, arms, and the side of my face. I barely sank. Based on the slap burning through my skin, it had been a perfect drop.

  The sounds of wild yelling and hysterics worked through the water in my ears. I bit back a moan as I surfaced, pushing hair out of my face. The staff stomped and clapped, screaming my name. My legs, stomach, left ear, and left cheek burned like a forest fire.

  JJ reached down and pulled me out of the water. He shook his head. “Good grief, Meg. Nice work!”

  “She’s bright red!”

  “Look at her arms.”

  “She fell like a bag of cement.”

  Sione blinked, hands on his hips, as he stared at the spot where I’d landed in the water. I felt like throwing up.

  “Damn,” he said, shaking his head. “The girl wins.”

  Elated—and a little nauseated—I held up a dripping fist.

  “I am girl power!” I cried.

  As one, all three judges held up 89.34, 10, and 1,000. The ballistic cheers turned into chanting. I forced a grin, waved, and bit back a surge of vomit. Mark elbowed through the crowd.

  “You all right? You’re bright red! I’ve never been so proud.”

  My skin tingled. I didn’t dare look. Hands clapped my shoulders and pounded me on the back in congratulations as I worked through them, headed for my flip-flops.

  And then somewhere to retch.

  “Seriously, Meg,” JJ said, following just behind. “You all right?”

  “I just need to sit down.”

  “Let her through,” Mark said, scattering the crowd. “She needs to get a drink of water or scotch or something.”

  Justin waited at the edge of the crowd with my shirt and flip-flops. When I approached, Atticus whimpered and licked my hand. I pulled my shirt on, grateful to cover up. Justin dropped my shoes in front of my feet. They slapped the deck, and I winced in sympathy.

  “That was the loudest sound I’ve ever heard,” Justin said.

  Once I slid into the flip-flops, I straightened my wet, crooked shirt. My stomach rumbled. Justin put a hand on the back of my neck and spun me around to face the group of men chanting my name.

  “Welcome to the club, Megan Bailey,” he said. “I think you’re in.”

  After waving, I doubled over and vomited all over Justin’s shoes.

  Breakfast Requests from Program Staff

  BACON.

  Bacon

  Fruit with bacon.

  Donuts. No sprinkles.

  Ten cheese grilled cheese sandwich. With bacon.

  Bacon burritos

  WINGS with bacon

  Pie. Breakfast pie okay. Bacon expected. Fruit welcome.

  Bacon nachos

  French toast

  “Omelet the size of my face” <— Unsure who wrote this.

  ^ With bacon

  Chapter 13

  Closure

  Rain pattered against the windowpanes of the lodge after dinner the next Tuesday evening, accompanied by an occasional roll of thunder. Puddles collected in low sections of the trails, resulting in a slippery cement floor when the staff trooped inside. Justin built a warm fire in the big hearth, and the sweet scent of pine seeped through the room. These calm evenings at Adventura made me want to stretch the summer into forever.

  The epic belly-flop had turned the tide of staff adoration wildly in my favor. Throwing up on Justin had only cemented my place in their Hall of Fame. Luckily, Justin had been gracious and jumped in the lake to rinse his feet off while I burned with embarrassment.

  After I’d finished wrapping leftover pizza—thin crust to avoid burning in the fickle oven and ManStyle with only meat and cheese and bacon—in tinfoil, the back door opened. Hollis walked inside, raindrops sparkling in his long, blond hair.

  “Hey, girl power.”

  As recompense for taking his belly-flop champion status, Sione had bestowed on me the new nickname girl power. Everyone adopted it. I didn’t mind. Their constant teasing and now frequent mini-pranks warmed the icy layers of my post-Nathan heart.

  “Thanks for dinner,” he continued. “I appreciate you adding mushrooms to one of them for me.”

  I smiled. “No problem.”

  He stood on top of an old towel in the doorway. His fingers fidgeted with the bottom of his shirt as he turned his body away from me, half-facing the fridge.

  “Something on your mind?” I asked.

  He rushed forward, as if he’d just been waiting for permission, and leaned across the island. “Can I ask you a favor?”

  “Sure.”

  “I need help with … with a girl.”

  “Okay.”

  His shoulders slumped. “Her name is Mandy, and she’s wonderful. She lives in Jackson City. I just … I’m not sure how to … ask her out. I had a bad breakup a few months ago.”
He winced. “I’m still not sure what went wrong.”

  “Did you break it off?”

  “No, she did.”

  “Have you spoken with her since?”

  “No.”

  “So you don’t know why it happened?”

  He shrugged. “Just came out of the blue. I keep worrying that I did something horribly wrong.”

  “Did something bad happen right before?”

  He paused and shook his head. “No. Maybe she just rejected me, right? Or maybe it had nothing to do with me.” He threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know! But if I messed up, I may do it again with the next girl I date.”

  “Maybe you need to find out what happened before you move on.”

  “Call my ex?” he asked. “But she’s crazy.”

  “Maybe it’ll give you closure?”

  “Closure,” he repeated, humming the word deep in his throat as if he’d never heard it before. “Hmm.”

  I warmed to the idea as it spun through my mind. “Find out why the relationship went wrong. Talk to your ex and see what she says. Maybe if you find out why, you won’t be so gun-shy to start another relationship.”

  He straightened. “Yeah. That could work, I think.”

  I smiled. “Give it a shot. Couldn’t hurt anything, right?” My expression fell. “She’s not a total psycho, is she?”

  “Not that I’m aware of. Hasn’t been convicted of any murders … yet.” A wide grin split his face. He tapped once on the island with his knuckles. “Thanks, Megan. I’ll try that out.”

  He left as quickly as he’d come. I stared at a shiny square of leftover tinfoil on the counter and listened to my own words.

  Maybe it’ll give you closure.

  Nathan filled my head like a balloon as I mopped the floor. Adventura kept me so busy I didn’t think about him much anymore. But he loitered in every now and then, like a full bag of garbage that needed taking out.

  An hour later, I stared out at the soggy trees, my nose stinging with the dry scent of bleach. Maybe Hollis wasn’t the only one that needed closure. I deserved a chance to respond to how Nathan had broken up with me. A rush of adrenaline made my fingers tingle. It would feel wonderful to tell Nathan how I’d felt that night.

  You dropped me like a hot potato, I’d say. I really liked you. I went into debt to impress you. I worked hard, and you just gave up. You valued your career over our relationship, and that really hurt.

  I rinsed out a washcloth and hung it over the sink’s edge. Tonight, justice would be served.

  Tonight, I would get my own closure.

  Ten minutes later, I sat on my cot in a pair of warm sweats, yellow knee socks, and a fleece jacket. Two bars of service showed up on my phone.

  “Please hold out,” I murmured, fingers crossed as I found his name in my contacts and hit call. I really didn’t want to make this call in the lodge or main office. Atticus curled up on the cot next to me, his head spilling into my lap. The phone rang in my ear. A little tremor moved every bone in my hands as I waited for Nathan to pick up. I closed my eyes and exhaled a long, deep breath, moving into the safe mountainous place I went to during yoga.

  You gave up. Why did you give up? I would have fought for you. For us. How dare you break up with me for your career? I rehearsed my speech over and over again. The words, running through my head like a ticker tape, fueled my courage.

  Just focus, Megan. Tell him how you felt. Find your closure.

  A harried voice answered moments later. A crackle of static filtered through the line, but it eventually evened out.

  “Yeah?”

  I paused. “Uh … Nathan?”

  “Who is this?”

  Surely it hadn’t been that long. “Nate, it’s Megan.”

  A beat of hesitation lingered in the dead air. “Megan?”

  “Yes. Your ex-girlfriend?”

  “Yeah, I know. Hi.”

  “You sound stressed. Everything okay?”

  He exhaled a short, fast staccato. I could picture him shoving his hands through his hair. I didn’t need to see him to know that he had a wild, cagey expression on his face.

  “New York is crazy, Meg. It’s just … crazy.”

  “Do you want me to call later?”

  The sound of a door closing preceded his response. “No, this is fine. I can talk for two minutes. Oh, hold on.” His voice muffled. He returned thirty seconds later. “Sorry. I’m prepping for a meeting.”

  “We can do this later. I—”

  “There is no later, Meg. There is no later.”

  “Oh. Really?”

  He sighed. “Yeah.”

  My rehearsed speech slipped away like tendrils of smoke. I cleared my throat. Of all the responses I’d planned for, this frenetic uncertainty hadn’t been one of them. What did crazy mean, anyway? Nathan loved intense jobs.

  “Are you enjoying your promotion?” I asked.

  “It’s nonstop. There’ve been five other people in this position in the last year. Five. I worked eighty hours last week. I only slept like four hours every night.”

  I snorted. “Hope you get paid overtime.”

  “I don’t. At least, I don’t think I do. I wouldn’t even know. I haven’t checked my own bank account in … I don’t know how long.”

  I leaned forward and pressed my cheek to the gentle, warm fur on the top of Atticus’s head. He snuggled close. Outside, the warm fall of rain continued, pattering in a gentle dance on my rooftop. How wonderful the forest smelled during a rainstorm.

  “I’ve been through two assistants already,” he continued. “It’s only been a month. I forgot to eat two meals the other day. I think I have a UTI because I don’t have time to rehydrate. I can’t remember the last time I cut my hair.”

  “Nathan, that’s so…”

  “Intense?”

  “Unlike you.”

  “Right?”

  “Do you like it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The job. Do you like it?”

  “No.” He paused. “At least, I don’t think I do. I don’t even know.”

  “But isn’t it your dream? Living in New York City. Working your way into an executive position. Sounds ideal, right?”

  The words seemed to hang in the air between us. “I don’t know anymore. I really don’t. It’s all so different than I thought. I mean … I just don’t know.” He sighed. “Listen, enough about me. Can I help you with something?”

  My mouth opened, but no words came out. Instead of a thirst for retribution, I felt a surge of compassion. Like me, he’d given much of his life to his career, sacrificing time, money, health, and even relationships. And now he faced a future that he’d created—had once desired, even—but that didn’t promise happiness.

  “Megan? You there?”

  “Right.” I jerked back to attention. “Sorry. Uh, listen, I won’t take up a lot of your time. I’m just calling because … well, I wanted to check on you. Maybe get a little closure on our relationship.”

  “I was kind of an ass.”

  I paused, running the words through my head twice before fully comprehending what he’d said.

  “Wait. What?”

  “Yeah … about that night. I’m sorry for the way that happened. You’re wonderful. You really are. I was caught up in the excitement of the promotion and just acted.”

  “Oh.” Tears pooled in my eyes. Could he ever know how wonderful it felt to hear that? No matter how much I blamed myself, it hadn’t been just me.

  “Uh, thanks.”

  “Although I still hold that we weren’t easy. Breaking up really was for the best, now that I see my job.” He sighed. “Things really didn’t work out the way I wanted, did they?”

  My thoughts wheeled backward. Nate wanted an easy relationship with an elusive it factor. But maybe he’d had one valid point—we hadn’t been easy. The forced dinner conversations. Romantic galas where we spent almost no time together. He only did cardio, while I lifted weigh
ts. My mind strayed to Justin, then to JJ and Mark. Easy, Nathan had said.

  It made a lot more sense now.

  “You were right, actually,” I said. “We weren’t easy. That doesn’t mean we couldn’t have made it work, but … I don’t think we were meant to be together either.”

  His voice dropped. “Yeah. But the good times were good.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Are you kidding?” he yelled. “I had a phone call with LA five minutes ago! Meg, listen, I gotta go—”

  “Of course. Thanks, Nate. Really.”

  “Yeah. You too. Good luck with everything.”

  The line went dead. I chuckled, turned it off, and dropped it into my lap.

  “Goodbye, Nathan,” I whispered.

  Atticus groaned when I disturbed his nap by tucking the phone under my leg. I ran a hand down his long, muscular side, marveling that my heart felt light and free. The manic intensity of my thoughts slowed. For the first time in weeks, I felt as if I could finally put Nathan behind me.

  With my hands tucked underneath Atticus’s silky coat, I dozed to the patter of raindrops.

  Chapter 14

  Complete Chaos

  Fourth of July Checklist

  Check oven for firecrackers. (Mark’s prank war begins at midnight)

  Sleep with eyes open

  Plan meal for the Great Big Massive Fourth of July Extravaganza.

  Food ideas: White Sheet Cake flags. (The ones on Pinterest.)

  Bowl of fresh fruit

  Watermelon slices

  Lemonade

  Sandwiches?

  Veggie tray

  BBQ Chicken

  Hot dogs

  Buy 200 hot dogs. And buns.

  Buy burn ointment.

  The Fourth of July dawned with a mosaic sunrise of lavender, electric pink, and smudged-butter yellow. I stared at the clouds, my head craned back, enjoying the majesty of the mountains under such a sky. A perfect day to celebrate freedom.

  After serving a successful breakfast of biscuits and gravy—only slightly congealed—I grabbed my phone.

  Buttercream or whipped topping? Which one is a better frosting? I typed in a text to Lexie. Then I paused, thumb hovering over the screen. With a quick tap, I deleted her name and substituted Mom’s. Lexie and I hadn’t spoken since her betrothal—mostly my fault. She’d sent messages that I hadn’t responded to. My heart turned to flame every time I thought about giving her up to Bradley.