Don’t forget why you’re here. Don’t forget what you need to do.
I quickly avert my gaze and look for the next wave. Then, I ride it. And the next, and the next.
As I do that, I let my mind go over everything. I think about my mom’s money problems and Gisele’s proposition. I also think about my brief interactions with Rose. If I didn’t know better, I’d almost say she was nice. But that goes against everything Gisele has said over the last few years. I can’t reconcile the two Roses, and I’m struggling with betraying my morals for some money.
Until I think about who it’s for. My mom has sacrificed so much for me, especially this last year. What’s one tiny blow to my conscience? And surely Rose won’t care that a couple of poor kids from the south side of Sterling know about her scar, right?
I keep riding waves as I continue to make sense of the situation. I lose track of time and notice the sun has gotten higher in the sky. When I finally look back at the shore, I fully expect Rose to be gone.
If I’m honest with myself, I hope she is. It would make this decision a lot easier if it was made for me.
But the umbrella is still there, and there’s a figure under it. I shade my eyes with my hand, and squint so I can see better. Is Rose lying down? She’s obviously not laying out to get a tan with all that shade and clothing. Which makes me wonder if I’ve bored her into taking a nap.
I sigh as I sit on top of my board for another minute. I could leave now and go to work without following through with my plan. I should do that. If I was a decent guy, I would do that,
Unfortunately, as I paddle back up to shore, I realize I’m not a decent guy.
I’m a desperate one.
Chapter Four
Rose
Someone’s shaking me. “You gotta wake up.”
The voice is deep—oddly familiar—and it sounds like whoever is speaking has their mouth close to my ear. Am I still dreaming? It was a good one this time, a nice change from the nightmares about the cancer spreading throughout my body.
There was a sweet, brown-haired boy in it. I scoot from the hand that’s still resting on my arm. Maybe if I close my eyes tight enough, I can fall back to sleep and go back to him.
“No, no, no,” the voice says. “Don’t do that.” And the hand starts pushing against my arm again.
I groan and swat at whoever is bothering me but am met with laughter.
Now the boy from my dream is laughing at me. Wait. No, that’s not right either.
I force my mind to cut through the fog of just waking up. I’m outside in the middle of the day, and someone is telling me to wake up. Suddenly, everything snaps into place.
Adam.
Me watching him surf.
Accidently falling asleep.
Oh no.
I knew I shouldn’t have taken a pain pill before meeting him down on the beach, but my face hurt more than usual after smiling so much the day before. I was trying to be ahead of the game. Instead, I just ended up falling asleep and dreaming about Adam Price.
I open my eyes to see his smiling face. He’s kneeling in the sand and leaning over me as he attempts to wake me up. I close my eyes again. I really hope I wasn’t drooling or, even worse, snoring. “Hey,” he says, his eyes sparkling.
“Hey,” I answer lamely, feeling my cheeks warm.
“I didn’t realize surfing was so boring,” he says, a corner of his mouth lifts in a smile.
He’s flirting with me. Or, at least, it feels like flirting. He makes me feel human again, and it’s the only reason I ended up meeting him today. And then I fell asleep. I can’t believe I did that. I slowly sit up, feeling slightly dizzy from the medicine. “It’s not boring, I’m tired because—”
Of the codeine.
It’s the second time I’ve almost told him about my cancer. And the second time I’ve stopped myself. I don’t know why I want to tell him so much. I don’t know Adam, but he’s got the face and personality that screams “you can trust me.” And I want to tell him everything. And yet, part of me still doesn’t want anyone to know. As if I can pretend it and the scar away.
I bite my bottom lip and shake my head. “Sorry, I guess the sound of the waves lulled me to sleep.”
His smile grows. “I can see that. It’s a lot quieter over here on this end of the beach.”
“Is that a good thing?”
Adam nods. “Surfing out there was amazing. Not only did I have the water to myself, I didn’t have an audience when I wiped out.” He gives me a sly smile. “Not even you.”
I roll my eyes and push his chest. He’s got a rash guard on, so I don’t feel his skin, but the muscles beneath my hand are rock hard.
His smile drops, and his eyes go to where my hand still lingers on his torso. I pull it away and he clears his throat. “Surfing over here was pretty cool.”
And so was having the company, I think. I swallow hard and look down at my toes. Sand covers my red nails, and I focus on them when I say, “You know, you could come back sometime, if you want.”
I hate how insecure I sound. This isn’t me. Or at least, it’s not the me I used to be. I used to be the leader in my group, and now I’ve been reduced to a bumbling idiot. I guess cancer changes you.
It’s changed my priorities, that’s for sure. I used to care about having the killer bod, the killer hair, the killer ride. Now, I’m just happy that I’m alive. I’m thankful that melanoma wasn’t the killer it could have been.
I look up at Adam’s face waiting for him to respond. He doesn’t quite meet my eyes when he answers. “I don’t know.”
I’m so confused. He just said he liked surfing over here, and earlier he said he would do it every day in a perfect world. So, what gives? Is it because he realized I’m not the popular girl I used to be? Am I too boring with head-to-toe swimwear and mid-morning naps?
“Why not?”
He shrugs. “I work a lot.”
“Where do you work?” I ask, even though his excuse feels a lot like a cop-out to me.
“Murdoch’s.”
It’s the tacky tourist stop that no local would be caught dead walking into. They sell cheap, plastic souvenirs and beach essentials. Neither of which any Sterling local is lacking.
And really, who exactly needs a snow globe with a girl in a bikini in it or a shark-shaped picture frame? No one, that’s who. But apparently, some sucker out there must really love his twenty shot glasses that say Sterling Beach on them because Murdoch’s is still in business.
“Cool,” I say.
He chuckles. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard a local call Murdoch’s cool, but it pays the bills, and that’s all that matters.”
“Oh, do you have your own place?” The idea surprises me. Sure, we’ve both graduated from high school, but I just assumed most people stayed with their parents until school started in the fall.
“No.” He shakes his head. “I, uh, help my mom out. Ever since my…”
His voice trails off, but I know what he was going to say.
Ever since my dad died.
Even though I don’t know him, everyone remembers when his dad died last year. The school did a car wash and bake sale to earn money for his family. I made a box of brownies because I couldn’t be bothered making something from scratch with everything else I thought was important at the time. I could kick myself now.
I open my mouth to say something dumb like, “I’m sorry,” when Adam stands up. “I should probably get going.” He grabs his board from where he’s laid it in the sand.
“Okay.” I nod. “Have a good day.”
“Yeah. You too.” A corner of his mouth lifts into a smile, though it almost looks sad.
And then he walks off leaving me all alone. I’m sheltered from the sun under my umbrella, and safe from the watching eyes of everyone on the public beach. It’s exactly what I thought I wanted from my life these days.
No people. No relationships. Just me, myself, and I.
Then why do I feel like something
’s missing?
Chapter Five
Adam
I haven’t been able to tear my eyes away from my phone screen ever since I got to work.
It was a cheap shot to take a picture of Rose’s face when she was sleeping. I shouldn’t have done it. But now that I have, I don’t know what to do. I’m not willing to delete it. This could mean the difference between a place to live, and finally discovering what Sterling has for homeless shelters.
But I also haven’t told Gisele yet—even though I really could use that money, like, yesterday. I know this picture is what she so desperately wants from me, but I can’t help but think about what she’ll do once she has it. And how that will destroy Rose.
I’m a jerk.
But it’s not just guilt that keeps me staring at the picture.
It’s how beautiful Rose is.
It’s obvious that she’s self-conscious of the scar that runs down her face. And while I won’t pretend it somehow enhances her looks, it doesn’t take away from how insanely gorgeous she is either. A prickle of pride runs through me when I think that one of the most popular girls from high school asked me to hang out with her.
Not that anything can happen between us. If our money differences weren’t enough to confirm that, the image on my screen is.
“Excuse me,” a woman says, and I look up to see a tourist staring at me with narrowed eyes.
“Yeah?”
She shakes her head and mumbles something about how it would be nice if teenagers could bother looking away from their phones for two seconds, before she asks me where the sunscreen is.
I stand up from my seat behind the counter, and shove my phone in my back pocket, so I can walk her over to where we stock everything from baby oil to SPF 100. “Here you go,” I say in what I hope is a helpful tone. As much as I hate it here, I don’t need Mr. Murdoch himself getting on my case, or threatening to fire me. He and his wife own this tourist trap. And while Mrs. Murdoch is pretty sweet, her husband runs it with an iron fist. I can’t afford to get on his bad side right now.
The woman lifts up a bottle of waterproof sunscreen and looks at the price tag. When she sees it, she harrumphs and looks up at me. “You’d think this was liquid gold for that price.”
I lift my shoulders. “Sorry. I don’t decide what things cost in here. I’m just the hired help,” I say in an attempt to joke around.
But she doesn’t think it’s funny. Instead, she rolls her eyes. “Obviously.”
I give her a tight smile, ignoring her attitude. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
She shakes her head and sets down the bottle in her hand and reaches for another. There’s no point standing around while she realizes that they’re all overpriced, so I walk up to the register.
I’m about to turn my phone on again and torture myself some more when Jeremy walks in with some girl who is obviously a tourist.
The irony of the only other scarred resident of Sterling walking into Murdoch’s today isn’t lost on me. Only, everyone knows how he got his. His accident was in the newspaper, and people were doing fundraisers for his medical bills. While we’ve never really sat down and talked about it, I think we could spend hours commiserating how hard it is to have the entire community pitying you.
And how the bake sales and car washes aren’t what you need when tragedy strikes. Maybe Rose is lucky in that way. The fact that no one even knows about her face means no one can pity her.
Unless…
Unless, Gisele gets her hands on this picture. Then, Rose will have a lot more to worry about than the residents of Sterling rallying together in a misguided attempt to make things right.
And yet, here is Jeremy, walking around, unashamed. If only Rose would do that, Gisele wouldn’t be able to blackmail her, or whatever she’s trying to do.
But you wouldn’t get paid.
“Hey, man,” Jeremy says pulling me from my thoughts before dragging the girl through the store.
I can’t help but let my eyes follow them as they pick up random pieces of junk and set them back down. Every once in a while, the girl giggles, and when they both try on bright green sunglasses, they look like something straight out of a summer movie. They look happy.
I think about the smile on Rose’s face earlier today, and then the way her face fell when I blew her off for another visit. Is there any way to make it up to her? What if I was the one who convinced her to let the world know what happened?
Again, there’s that issue of needing the money.
I wish Gisele hadn’t made her little proposition. Then, I wouldn’t be worried about missing out on such a big chunk of change. I would already be applying for other jobs instead of spending time with Rose.
My mind is going in circles, and I just need to decide what to do already.
If only it were that easy.
All I know is I’m thankful when Miss Sunscreen reappears and wants to buy her items. She’s got her hands full of all the beach essentials—towel, flip flops, and a bottle of SPF 100—like she didn’t know what a beach was when she arrived at Sterling.
I’m surprised she doesn’t want me to explain what sand is, or why the waves move.
I sigh and keep my sarcasm to myself as I ring up her items. It’s not her fault I’m a terrible human being, and I don’t need to take it out on her. After she pays, I wish her a good day, and see Jeremy and the tourist girl he’s been taking around the store walking up to the counter.
They’ve got the neon sunglasses from earlier, as well as a few other gimmicky items—all with the Sterling Beach logo on them. Jeremy pays for them and when they leave, and I pull my phone back out.
Not that it’s doing me any good.
Everything is crap, and I hate it.
I kick the counter in frustration and am surprised by how badly it hurts. A groan escapes my throat as I reach down and rub my toe where it connected.
“Serves you right.”
I look up, and my breath actually catches when I see Rose standing opposite of me. She’s got her oversized sunglasses on (even though we’re inside), a large-brimmed hat, and her hair is down. If you didn’t know the scar was there, you might miss it.
But I know where it is since I’ve been staring at her picture all afternoon.
My eyes quickly go to my phone afraid it’s on display, but thankfully, the screen has gone black. I’m not sure what I would say to her if she saw that.
“Hey,” I say, as I try to give her a friendly smile. “What are you, uh, doing here?”
She holds a pair of sunglasses. “You left these in the sand, and since I knew you worked here, I thought I’d bring them by.”
I look at the Ray-Bans in her hand. Every pair I’ve ever owned has come from the dollar bin. “Those aren’t mine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” I say and point to where my pair sits safely on top of my head. “Mine are right here.”
Rose makes a noise of disappointment and pouts. “Then it looks like I took the trip up here for nothing.”
I shrug. “I don’t know about that. You could buy a seashell necklace while you’re here.”
“Ooh, fancy,” she says, and starts running her fingers over the beachy jewelry that’s displayed at the counter.
When a customer walks up, she steps aside for me to ring up his purchases, but she doesn’t leave. Even when the tourist leaves with his items, Rose lingers nearby.
“You know, if you want to keep loitering, I may be forced to call the cops,” I eventually say.
She smiles. “And I’d really hate to get arrested.”
“But thanks for bringing those all the way up here.” I point to the pair of sunglasses that is still in her hand.
“No problem.” Rose bites her bottom lip, and I’m struck once again with how pretty she looks.
“Hey, I was thinking about going surfing tomorrow.”
Her face jerks up, and her mouth pops open. “Oh?”
She�
�s surprised. Heck, I’m surprised. I don't know what I think I’m doing by suggesting we hang out again, but the words are out now. And if the small smile forming on her lips is any indication, she’s happy about it.
“Maybe I could come up to the private beach again? See if I can bore some more unsuspecting girls to sleep.”
She removes her sunglasses, so I can see her eyes. There’s mischief dancing in them, and I realize too late, that we’re flirting—again. “Honestly? I’ll be disappointed if you try to find more unsuspecting girls. I’d like to be the only one you bore to sleep.”
I can’t stop the laugh that escapes my throat. “Fine. I promise to only bore you with my sweet moves on the water.”
“Then I promise to show up again.”
“It’s a date.”
I hear her breath catch with my words. It’s a date? Oh, Adam, you really are an idiot.
But Rose recovers quickly, and smiles. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
And then she walks out, and I’m left feeling more confused than ever.
Chapter Six
Rose
I can’t believe I did it.
I left the house by myself, for fun—not a follow-up with my doctor. And I have Adam to thank for it. I knew the Ray-Bans weren’t his before he said they weren’t. There’s no way a kid who is working at Murdoch’s to pay for groceries is going to drop that kind of money on sunglasses. But I needed an excuse to talk to him again since I don’t have his phone number. Since Adam is oddly absent from social media and I wasn’t sure if he’d show up on the private beach again, I really didn’t have a choice.
So, I took matters into my own hands.
And now I get to see him again tomorrow.
It’s a little embarrassing how much my small excursion feels like a victory. But after resigning myself to a life of isolation after my doctor told me he would have to cut out so much skin on my face, it’s huge. And it makes me think maybe my life isn’t over.
Okay. So, I know that sounds dramatic. But in a lot of ways, my old life really is over. My friends are off doing the same things we used to do every summer—parties, bonfires, late nights at the Star Diner or the drive-in—and once they realized I wasn’t leaving my house anymore, they were happy to cut ties.
Beauty and the Beach (Boys of Summer) Page 3
