He nodded, a small triumphant smile curving his lips. As he left, his words from the night before came back to me. I knew we wouldn't talk about the fight. That wasn't our style. Fake it 'til you make it and all that. Whenever we argued, we'd act like it hadn't happened, both of us hoping the other would forget our harsh words. We never did.
Colby and I were too different to be what we needed each other to be. We were inseparable as kids and then the unthinkable happened. Everything was ripped away until all we had was each other, only we didn't really have each other anymore. Even once Kat took us in, we were both desperately lonely. The difference was, he snapped out of it much sooner than me. That loneliness still lingered in the back of my mind, creating a wall between my brother and me.
I took a super quick shower before drying off and throwing on a pair of khaki shorts and silk shirt. Tying my wet hair into a messy bun, I looked in the mirror at my puffy eyes, dabbing the tiniest bit of foundation on under then. Some quick eyeliner and I was as ready as I'd ever be.
I slipped my flip flops on, knowing full well how some of the women in the church would view them. If it was up to them, we'd all be wearing hideous floral dresses with heels that were too difficult to walk in. No thank you. This was as dressed up as I got.
Kat and Colby were waiting by the front door when I came out of my room, and we rushed out to the car. We lived in an old prefab house in Gulf City's south side. Three bedrooms with a small kitchen and living space. It wasn't anything special, but it was all we'd ever known. When mom died, Kat didn't have the heart to sell it, and she took care of it as much as she could, but she was one person. The yellow exterior paint was peeling, in desperate need of a new coat. A crack ran the length of the driveway. Florida wasn’t kind to houses. Between the storms and the heat, they took a beating.
It took us ten minutes to get to the church in Kat's old Chevy Tahoe.
Gulf City Presbyterian was at the center of town. It wasn't the only church in the area, but it was the biggest. Stained glass windows adorned the front of the brick structure, giving it an air of opulence. Perfectly manicured lawn surrounded white pillars along the walkway from the parking lot to the front door.
“See,” I said. “We aren't late. People are still arriving.”
Neither Colby nor Kat responded as the large glass doors were held open for us. The greeter extended bulletins toward us, and we thanked him.
“Colby.” Morgan walked up to us. Well, walking was probably the wrong word. It was like she bounced everywhere she went.
“Hi Morgan,” Kat said affectionately.
“Wait, how do you know Morgan?” I asked. “Was I the only one who didn't know about this?” I waggled my finger between my brother and the girl who was now holding onto his arm.
“You've been kind of wrapped up in your own stuff this summer, Cal.” Colby didn’t meet my eyes.
Was he right? I tried to think back on this summer, remembering only that I surfed when the waves came in and was with Jay the rest of the time.
I didn't have time to think on it more because Colby led us to a pew right behind Jamie and his parents. I slid in next to Kat, working hard not to notice the boy who was trying to get my attention in front of me.
“Earth to Callie,” Jamie whispered, earning a glare from his father.
“What?”
“Don't tell me you're reneging on our deal.”
I looked up and saw him staring at me like he actually cared if I backed out. Could we really be friends? If I declined to go on his quest for greatness, he'd have others lining up to take him up on it.
“I don't know what's in it for you,” I admitted. “Did Jay put you up to this? Ask you to look out for me or something?”
His expression turned confused and hurt.
“James Candice Daniels,” his father said. “If you don't turn around right now and shut your mouth…” He let the threat hang there and much to my surprise, Jamie did as he said, slumping in his seat.
The service started, and it was just like any other service on any other Sunday. Reverend Jones was a good speaker, but it never felt like he was speaking to me, like I could relate.
I zoned out and instead thought of Jamie. He'd seemed hurt when I questioned his motives, yet he had to see why I would. I've known him my whole life. We were even friends once. As we grew older, he stayed close to Colby and Jay stayed close to me. It'd been like that for years, and I'd assumed that was how it'd stay. Usually, the two of us bickered like siblings.
If I thought hard about it, I didn't actually hate him, and the more I thought about it, I didn't know why I thought I did. Maybe being friends with him would mean this year didn't have to be as bad as I thought.
We filed out of the church an hour later. Colby watched as Jamie followed me.
For the first time, I got a look at the other side of his face and gasped. He had a nasty bruise that ran along his cheekbone.
“Jamie, oh my gosh.” I reached out and touched it. He winced, but didn't push me away. “I'm so sorry.”
“Tony had it coming.” He shrugged.
“I guess it's not the first fight you've been in.”
He was a known hot head. On the soccer field, in the school halls, at the beach. Pretty much anywhere he went, there was a chance he'd throw a punch.
“No.” He chuckled. “It's not. Look, I know it's weird, me saying I want to hang out with you, but we used to be friends.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Do you remember two years ago, when Alex Terrel stopped bullying you?”
“Yeah, I always assumed Colby talked to him.”
“Terrel was not about to listen to reason,” he scoffed. “More like he had words with my fists.”
When I was silent, he continued.
“Or last year when I went out with Kendra Lane? You were so mad at me.”
“Because she was never anything but a bitch to me. She snapped the fin on my favorite board.”
“Then she suddenly stopped,” he said.
“That's why you agreed to go on a date.” I started to catch on.
“See, I've always been your friend. And yes, Jay may have asked me to keep an eye on you, but I would have done it, anyway.”
“Jamie Daniels, you aren't nearly as much of a jerk as everyone says you are.”
“Just don't tell anyone. Have I convinced you yet? For some reason, I think we'd have fun. Plus, with Jay gone again you've got to be desperate for friends.”
“Gee, you really know how to sweet talk a girl,” I deadpanned.
“I'm not trying to sweet talk you.” He laughed. “If I was, you'd know.”
I shoved him as we kept walking, not answering. Instead, I smirked. “So, your middle name is Candice, huh?”
“Not a word,” he growled
“How did I not know about this?”
“It's not exactly something I share. It's a family name.”
“Can I call you Candy?”
“I'm trusting you with my life here,” he pleaded.
When I stayed silent, torturing him, he grabbed my arm and spun me to look at him. “Not. A. Word.”
“Whatever you say, Candy.”
Monday came way too early. The last first day of school. Unless I go to college that is. Ugh, college. I didn't even want to think about it. Colby knew exactly where he wanted to go and already had a scholarship offer to play soccer. Me, I had no clue what my future held, but I wasn't sure it was more classrooms and lectures.
I stood at the front counter in the diner making coffee as Kat was back in the kitchen with the morning cook, preparing the first orders.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
I whipped around, expecting to scowl at whoever it was that called me sweetheart, only to find Seth Franklin sitting at the counter. He always used that nickname for me, and I let him get away with it because he was just a sweet old man.
“Morning Seth.” I poured him a cup of coffee and slid it across the coun
ter. “What can I get you?”
“Shouldn't you be at school, young lady?”
“Free first period all year. I'll be leaving soon.”
“Oh good. An education is important, you know.”
“Thanks for the tip, Seth.”
He laughed. “Yeah, here I am going on about things you already know. Listen, my grandson is a senior, like you this year. Think you could keep an eye on him?”
“Sure thing. What's his name?”
“Matthew.”
I nodded, knowing exactly who the kid was. Everyone did. If Morgan Cook represented one end of the popularity spectrum, Matthew was the other end.
Seth put in his order, and I laid it on the pass-through window before balling up my apron and tossing it under the counter.
“Bye, Kat.”
“See you after school.” She looked up pointedly. “Try to be nice to people today.”
I shook my head, grabbed my backpack, and headed out the door. Was I really that bad? It really sucked when you saw what your family thought of you. Colby didn't like to be around me, or at least didn't try, and Kat thought I was pathetic. Just wonderful.
My truck sputtered to life, and I drove the two miles from the diner to school. The halls were empty save for the other seniors lucky enough to have a free first period. Finding my locker, I tried my new combination.
“Crap,” I grumbled when it failed to open on the third try.
“Need help?” A tentative voice asked beside me.
Morgan stood there with her perfect makeup and even better outfit. A pair of cuffed jean shorts hugged her hips below a baby doll t-shirt that never would have looked that good on me.
I stepped out of the way, and she got my locker open on the first try. Was there anything she didn't do well?
“It's finicky,” she said, trying to make me feel less like an idiot.
“Yeah, I guess.”
Grabbing the books for my first two classes, I shut it, the sound echoing down the hall.
“What do you have first?” Morgan asked. I didn't know why she suddenly insisted on talking to me after years of silence, but had a sneaking suspicion Colby was behind it.
“Creative writing,” I answered just as awkwardly.
“Me too!” This seemed to make her less nervous. “We can totally walk together.”
“Uh, sure.” Kat's voice suddenly popped into my head telling me to be nice. One of her favorite things to say over the years had been to try harder. Well Kat, here you go.
The bell rang, releasing hordes of students into the hall. The surrounding noise lessened the need for me and Morgan to talk on our way to class.
“Here it is.” Morgan led me inside. I found a seat near the back, and she took the one beside me. Did she know these would probably remain our seats all semester?
A few of her friends walked in, and I was sure she would move, but she just waved to them as they sat near us.
“Can you say sexy?” Morgan whispered, leaning toward me and nodding toward the man who'd just walked in.
“Is he Mr. Chase?” someone else said.
He was young, the youngest teacher I'd ever had. Tall, wide shoulders, styled black hair, and the beginnings of a beard, he was also the hottest teacher I'd ever had. Scratch that - the only hot teacher.
“Hello,” he said, a thick British accent clear. “I'm Mr. Chase.”
“Oh my gosh,” Morgan gasped.
I silently agreed.
“I am your creative writing teacher,” he continued, doing his best to make eye contact with each person in the small class. “This is my first year at Gulf City High. Before this, I was teaching at a school in Tampa. A little about me, hmmm…” He tapped his long fingers against his chin. “I don't know if you can hear my accent. It's barely there anymore.” Pausing for laughter, he wasn't disappointed. “But I'm from just outside of London. I lived there until I was seventeen. Then I moved to Florida with my mum and went to Uni in Tampa.”
A girl in the front raised her hand.
“Yes?”
“And how old are you now?” She giggled.
Indulging her, he answered. “Thirty-one. Now,” he continued. “This year we will work on your writing, but it will be fun. Writing should always be fun, or else what's the point of doing it?”
The class was overwhelmingly female, and he had our rapt attention as he went over the syllabus.
When class ended, a few girls stayed back, including Morgan, and I used that as my cover to slide out without having to talk to anyone.
There was no way Calc would be as interesting. I kept my head down as I walked through the crowded hall. If I didn't make eye contact, I wouldn't have to interact.
It turned out, someone had other ideas. I felt a hand wrap around my upper arm. Remembering Saturday night, my fight instinct kicked in, and I spun around before being pushed into an unused classroom.
The door shut behind me.
“What the hell, Jamie?” I yelled, shoving him into the wall as I felt the usual anger he evoked rising.
“Chill, will you?”
“Only when you leave me alone.”
“Here we go again.” He threw his arms up in the air.
“Look, I didn't mean that how it sounded. I'm just not used to you actually talking to me at school.”
“It was you who didn't talk to me.” He pointed at me to emphasize his point.
“That's ridiculous.”
“You're ridiculous,” he countered.
“Your mom's ridiculous.”
A laugh burst out of him. “Did you just 'your momma' me?”
I smirked. “Ended the argument, didn't it?”
“I thought you liked arguing with me?”
“You just make it so easy.” I laughed.
“Well, do you want to know why I'm making you late to class?” he asked.
I looked at the clock on the wall and turned toward the door. “Crap. I have to get to Calc.”
“No, you have to get to the beach.”
That stopped me. I turned back around and looked up at him. “Why?”
“There's a storm coming.” He grinned.
5
Jamie
I wasn't lying exactly. We were expected to be getting a storm next week, but it wouldn't be kicking up the waves quite yet. I was banking on the fact that Callie had been too distracted by the start of school to check herself.
Skipping the first day of school was probably stupid, but it was senior year and the beach was calling. Plus, I'd been dying to hang out with Cal since the beach party on Saturday. I still had no illusions that she thought of me as someone worthy of her time, someone as good as my brother, Jay, the future lawyer who had everything together. No, I was the screw up of the family and everyone saw that, eventually.
We stopped to grab my board at my place before driving to Callie's house. I stepped into the bathroom and pulled on my trunks, not bothering with a rash guard this time of year. Plus, I didn't even know if we'd be surfing.
Callie met me at the front door, board shorts and rash guard in place. Her hair was pulled up in a high ponytail.
We grabbed her board from the garage, strapped it to the roof, and got in the car.
Callie fidgeted next to me as the beach came into view.
“I promised Kat this year would be different,” she mumbled, picking at the hem of her top.
The year before Callie had gotten in a lot of trouble for skipping school. That was no secret. I'd been around for many of her fights with Kat about it.
Hitting my palm against the steering wheel, I said “Cal. I should have thought about that.”
“When the waves come to town, you don't miss their visit.”
She was right. Good swells were rare this time of year. And it was even more scarce to have two in one week. After Saturday, I was expecting it to be awhile before I would be riding on top of the water again, and I never thought it'd be with Callie McCoy.
This time of ye
ar was notoriously flat, but a storm could change that in a heartbeat. I'd used that to get her here. Please let there be something surfable.
“You ready?” I asked.
“Let's just get wet.” She pulled her board out and walked by me, swinging it so I had to jump out of the way to keep from being hit.
“I could make so many jokes right now, but I won't.” I chuckled.
“Good, because I'd kill you.”
“Oh California, sweetheart, you'd try.”
This time she actually did hit me with her board, stepping up onto the rocks. When she caught sight of the water, she froze.
“Jamie, where did you hear about the waves?”
“I just saw a storm was coming and…” I stopped as I saw what she saw.
It was flat.
“Nice going, Candy.” The nickname stung as she dropped her board in the sand and stormed down to the water's edge.
“Look,” I said, walking up behind her. “I'm sorry.”
“Kat is so going to kill me.” She sat down in the shallow water. In the distance, we could see the sandbar, but no waves broke on it.
I sat next to her, pushing my hair out of my eyes.
“Have I told you I hate you today?” she said.
“Why?” I asked.
“What?”
“You've never told me why you hate me. I've never been able to figure it out.”
“The list is too long.”
“Well, we're already out of school. I have nowhere to be.” I sat still, waiting.
“First, you're an idiot. You've always been an idiot.”
“Dumber than a box of bricks, got it.” I nodded for her to keep going.
“You take nothing seriously. You have this perfect life, and you don't even get it. You're great at soccer without even trying. Everyone loves you. Both your parents are around. And all you do is try to screw it up.”
I didn't respond to that. She didn't know how untrue those words were. We'd known each other most of our lives, and I suddenly realized she didn't really know me at all.
“And you call me California.”
“That's your name,” I said quietly.
Invincible- The Complete Set Page 3
