The Girl of Sand & Fog

by Ward, Susan

  I snatch my phone from the bed. “Fuck, how could you do that? That’s like an unwritten law. So not cool, Zoe.”

  I instantly start to click in a passcode. I hate codes and I’ve never needed one. Chrissie is not a privacy invader but, fuck, it seems there are different rules in LA if you want to keep your shit your own business, even with your friends.

  There.

  Done.

  I toss my cell onto the bed in front of her.

  I give her the black stare.

  She flushes. “Don’t be pissed at me. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but you’re just so interesting. Probably the most interesting person I’ve ever met.”

  I roll my eyes. Interesting? Me? First I’m extreme and now I’m interesting.

  I shake my head and let out an aggravated sigh. “Listen, I want us to be friends, but you can’t be poking around in my personal crap. Don’t do it again. OK?”

  She nods. Contrite. “So why do you make those videos?”

  Fuck. Didn’t she just hear me say I don’t want her snooping in my shit? “I just make them when junk happens in my life. A way to blow off steam. Nothing more.”

  She stares at me like she gets it, but in all honesty I don’t even really know why I make the Kaley’s World videos. It’s just who I am. I photograph everything. I make films. I post videos. I blog. It’s how I cope with my thoroughly fucked-up existence.

  “Well, they’re hilarious. I didn’t know you were so funny.” She springs from the bed. “Are you ready to go?”

  I shrug in that bitchy girl way that says I don’t really want to go anymore and shove my phone into my tote and head for the door.

  Zoe is silent as we drive to Redondo Beach. Damn it, why does it make me feel so bad to see her sulking in the passenger seat? She’s the one who crossed the line.

  I glance at her. “Listen. I’m not pissed. OK?”

  She looks at me, startled. “Oh. I didn’t think you were.” She smiles. “Sorry. I guess I zoned out again. I do that a lot. It really pisses Bobby off.”

  Bobby again. They both claim they aren’t interested in each other, but he invites her surfing and she keeps bringing him up.

  That’s starting to piss me off.

  “Well, we’re in Redondo Beach,” I say stiffly. “You’re going to have to unzone and tell me where to go.”

  Zoe gives me directions. A few minutes later we’re parked in a nearly full lot hugging the beach. I stare through the windshield. The waves are huge for California. The water is crowded with guys on boards. The signs posted on the barrier wall say High Surf Warning. Beach Closed.

  We climb from the car and I follow Zoe. As we cross the sand, I stare out at the ocean trying to figure out which surfer is Bobby, but from here they all look the same.

  Zoe stops at a giant cluster of beach towels, boards and chairs, the area crowded with fit, tanned bodies. It looks like they’ve been here all day. There are drinks, food, and music blasting. There are also girls—Bobby’s surfer mob is co-ed—and by the bikinis and bodies I’m seeing it was definitely lame to leave my hoodie unzipped thinking that’d wow him and to worry Zoe’s too-small top makes me look slutty.

  My gaze narrows.

  I wonder which one of those beach bimbos is Bobby’s.

  Zoe is quickly swallowed up in fast greetings. Her face is awash with excitement as she drags me around the circle, introducing me.

  She drops down on a towel and gestures me to join her.

  “This is Seth Morgan,” she says. “He went to the academy last year—”

  “Thankfully paroled for good behavior,” the guy next to her interrupts, winking at me.

  Zoe laughs. A little too loudly for the comment. “Now he goes to UCLA. It’s where I’m applying.”

  My eyes widen. She’s practically gushing over him. I do a fast, guarded inspection of Seth. Long tousled blond waves. Bright blue eyes. Deep California tan. Perfect teeth. Perfect body. Wearing a wetsuit unzipped with the top hanging low on his hips.

  Definitely out of Zoe’s league.

  He holds out a beer to me. “Do you want something to drink?”

  I shake my head. “No, thanks. I’m driving.”

  He offers it to Zoe. She reaches. He pulls it back, then she laughs—too loudly again—and grows pouty until he hands it to her.

  “Why do you always mess with me?” Zoe chides.

  He shrugs and lies back, staring at the ocean instead of her. Jeez, what a jerk. He seems like a prick. For her sake, I don’t like him.

  She takes a sip of her beer. “Are you going back out again?”

  He shakes his head. “Not all of us are as crazy as Rowan. Blown out. It’s too intense.”

  I stare out at the ocean. “Which one is Bobby?”

  Zoe points. “Black board.”

  Thirty minutes later, every one of Bobby’s surfing buddies have left the water except him, and he has yet to take a wave. I’ve watched Grandpa Jack surfing enough times to know what Seth said is true, and to know exactly what the guys are saying in their surfer lingo about the tide, the waves and the current. Conditions out there are getting gnarly.

  Why is he still out there?

  The way everyone around me is laughing and talking and waiting for him tells me that I shouldn’t worry about Bobby. Zoe says he’s into extreme everything, and this is definitely extreme.

  I fish through my bag for my camera. I focus the lens on him. He doesn’t look concerned. He looks almost peaceful out there. I randomly snap pictures to hide that all I’m really doing is studying him through the viewfinder.

  I can feel someone watching me.

  I peek out of the corner of my eye.

  I lean into Zoe. “Who is that giving me the girl stare?” I motion with my chin.

  Zoe turns her head in the direction and then swivels back toward me. “Oh, that’s Caroline,” she whispers. “An all-out bitch. Goes to Pepperdine. She used to have a thing with Bobby last summer.”

  I turn and meet Caroline’s gaze directly since she rudely hasn’t bothered to try to look like she isn’t checking me out. Blond. Beautiful. Petite and built. Your basic worst nightmare any day of the week.

  “Do they still hook up?” I ask.

  Zoe shakes her head vigorously. “It’s been over forever. She was never his girlfriend, but you’ll never convince Caroline of that. They’re still friends, though. I wish they weren’t and she’d just go away.”

  I pucker my lips to keep from laughing.

  “Oh fuck.” Seth springs to his feet. “Look what the hell is coming in from the south.” He makes a megaphone of his hands. “Rowan, you fucking lucky asshole,” he shouts even though it’s impossible for Bobby to hear him.

  Everyone stands and clusters together, waiting and watching.

  Seth stares down at me. “You’re going to want to film this.”

  I rise to my feet and quickly switch from photo to video, then focus the camera just in time to start filming Bobby paddling hard chasing a wave. Holy shit, the wave is enormous, and as if by magic it opens up for him in a way you rarely see in California, and he’s shooting through the barrel.

  “Are you getting this?” Seth asks.

  “Yep,” I answer.

  Bobby rides it into the shore, and everyone goes down to the water to meet him—even Caroline—so I hang back. They all start patting him, chatting, laughing it up. Caroline is pressed up against him like they’re still a couple when they are not. And damn, if they don’t look like they belong together.

  My insides start to churn. I drop down onto the towel and replay the video, focusing on the screen as I try not focus on them. They don’t seem over to me. Not in her mind, anyway. I wonder if they still hook up and Zoe just doesn’t know it.

  Shaking my head, I shift my gaze back to the camera. I caught the entire ride. Zoe is right—Bobby is incredible. I put the lens cap back on the camera, debate whether to upload it on one of my websites since it’s a pretty terrific video, and th
en shove it into my bag.

  I hear Bobby’s mob moving back toward our space in the sand and I wonder what he’s going to think seeing me tagging along with Zoe here. I’ve not forgotten that he invited her and not me to join him on this senior surf ditch day.

  I fight not to look up at him and instead make a pretense of rummaging through my bag as if I’m searching for something.

  “Do you mind getting off my towel?”

  Oh crap.

  No wonder Caroline was staring at me funny. Zoe parked me in Bobby’s spot.

  I look up. “Sure. No problem.” I roll onto my hip so he can tug it from beneath me, and a smile rises to his eyes as he shakes his head.

  “Never mind,” he says, dropping down on the sand beside me. He holds out a hand to Seth, who tosses him a beer. “I’m glad you showed up. I was starting to think this wouldn’t be your kind of scene.”

  It’s obvious what he’s thinking: that I’m here because of him.

  I flush. “This isn’t my kind of thing. Just seemed like something to do.”

  He pops open the top on the can. “So what is your kind of thing?”

  “Going around town looking for something interesting to film. I’m working on documentaries to submit with my USC application. I got some great footage of you. That might make an interesting short film if you’d be willing to do an on-camera interview. Do you want to see it?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe later on the video and never on the interview.” He starts poking through my things without asking. “So that’s what you lug around with you all the time. I’ve been wondering what kind of crap you have in your bag. Girls carry so much shit. But yours is full of cameras.”

  “Pretty much.”

  He reclines back into the sand, turned on his hip. “How long have you been into filmmaking?”

  I take my lower lip between my teeth. I can’t tell if he thinks that’s normal or weird. I shrug. “I don’t know. As long as I can remember.”

  “Interesting.”

  I tense. “What does that mean? Interesting.”

  He runs a hand through his damp hair and gives it a fluff with his fingers. “I wasn’t sure what was going on with you. Always in the halls alone, but the film thing tells me you’ve always been a loner. That it’s not something new because you’ve changed schools. Why don’t you want people to get close to you?”

  My scalp prickles as my cheeks grow warm.

  I meet his intense green eyes directly.

  “Maybe because I’ve never met anyone worth getting close to.”

  His brows hitch up. “Maybe you would if you gave people half a chance.”

  “That from the guy who doesn’t like anyone.” I lift my nose. “Maybe I would. But I don’t think so.”

  I can feel him studying me and I don’t like it.

  “Hey, Bobby, can we go?”

  We turn our faces in unison. Caroline is standing, shorts and tank top in place over her bikini, Gucci carry bag hanging from her shoulder.

  Bobby springs to his feet. My throat convulses as I watch him walk off across the sand with her toward the parking lot. Once they’re out of view, I stand up and start to brush the sand from my legs.

  I look at Zoe. “I need to go.”

  Zoe’s face snaps up, startled. “So soon? It’s early.”

  “I’ve got stuff I’ve got to do.”

  “Like what?”

  Like not sitting here butt hurt because Bobby left with Caroline.

  My cheeks burn.

  Fuck, where did that thought come from?

  Stupid, Kaley. You just met the guy.

  “Sorry, Zoe. I’ve got to go.”

  Zoe’s brows pucker. “Do you mind if I stay and catch a ride home with someone else?”

  My gaze shifts to Seth and for a moment I debate leaving. Zoe definitely needs a wingman in the pursuing-a-guy thing. She is so forward and eager with guys she’s going to get hurt.

  “Why don’t you come with me, Zoe? We can hang out at my house for a while.”

  “Everyone is going to Seth’s. I’d rather do that.”

  I bet you would, but you shouldn’t.

  There is something about that guy I don’t like.

  Maybe I shouldn’t take off. It looks like everyone is paired up. Does that leave Zoe with Seth? I definitely don’t like that.

  “Are you sure?” I ask, hoping to change her mind.

  Zoe nods enthusiastically. “I’m sure.”

  “OK. But text me later.”

  I cut across the sand back to my car. Bobby has Caroline. Zoe has Seth. They all have someone, except me.

  It’s never bothered me before.

  I’m always the odd girl out.

  Why is it bothering me today?

  CHAPTER 6

  I pull into my driveway two hours later. I check the dash. Crap. 7:30 p.m. I’ve missed dinner and broken two of Chrissie’s house rules in a single day.

  Not showing up for dinner.

  Taking off after school without going home first.

  Not good.

  I enter the house. It’s quiet. Maybe I’ve caught a break. Maybe Mom’s gone out with the herd. They are probably at Grandma Harris’s. It’s definitely too quiet in here for the twins and Krystal to be home.

  I go into the kitchen and find our housekeeper washing dishes.

  I lean against a counter. “Hi, Lourdes. Where is everyone?”

  Lourdes looks up from the sink. “Doing homework in their rooms. Like you should be. Where have you been, mi niña? You have worried your mother. You have worried me. It is not good. It needs to stop. Your mother has enough to deal with without your nonsense.”

  I flush.

  Crap, if this is what I’m getting first thing from Lourdes, Mom is going to blow.

  I give her the wide-eyed-innocent-I’ve-been-doing-nothing-wrong expression. “I just went to the beach. With friends.”

  She shakes her head. “Your mother wants to speak to you. She is out back.”

  I stop myself from grimacing.

  Shit.

  This is not going to go well.

  I toss my things on the counter and head toward the patio doors. I search the yard but don’t see Chrissie. I slide open the door and step out. Splashing is coming from the pool.

  I cross the lawn and go through the safety gate into the pool area. Chrissie’s swimming laps. When did this start?

  I sink down on a chaise, waiting for her to notice me. The splashing stops. Mom climbs the pool steps.

  “Where have you been?” she asks, grabbing a towel from the table beside me.

  I shrug. “Just out. With Zoe. I thought it would be OK.”

  She starts to pat dry her face. Silence. Not good.

  I change direction. “When did you start working out again?”

  Chrissie wraps the towel around her body. “About the time all you kids started school again.” She pats her absurdly flat stomach. “Got to get back in shape. Got to get fit.”

  I roll my eyes. “You look great, Mom.”

  She really does. How does a woman look like that after five kids?

  “Getting closer, but not one hundred percent back yet,” she says, annoyed.

  I watch my mom as she settles on a chaise across from me. She is one-eighty degrees my opposite. A petite, curvaceous, blond-haired, blue-eyed California hottie, even though she’s in her forties. They probably have her picture next to the definition of MILF in the Urban Dictionary. The only thing that would be more intimidating than having Christian Parker as a mother would be Jennifer Lopez.

  Yep, that would be worse.

  Chrissie’s bright blue eyes bore into me. “You know, Kaley—” Oh fuck. If it starts with you know it’s always bad. “—it’s good that you are getting out. Making friends. Starting to do things down here, but you can’t take off without letting me know where you are going. Don’t do it again, please.”

  She stands up and starts gathering her things from the table.

 
That’s it?

  What happened to the house rules?

  What happened to the lectures?

  Oh, I get it. She’s still pretending to be super cool mom because she feels guilty about moving me to this shit hole. Fine. That works for me. I didn’t want to get bitched out tonight anyway.

  I smile. “Can I go? I’ve got homework to do.”

  Chrissie lifts her brows. She smiles. “Sure.”

  I rise from my chair and move across the patio toward the gate.

  “I have plans Saturday,” she announces, not looking up from her cell phone as she scrolls through texts. “I’m going out which means you stay in.”

  Out?

  Mom doesn’t go out. Not ever.

  I stop and turn back to stare at her. “Why do I have to stay in?”

  “Lourdes can’t manage everything on her own.”

  Well, that’s just freaking great.

  Not that I had plans, but still.

  Shit, my mom has a social life in Pacific Palisades before I do.

  Crap, that’s pathetic.

  I frown. “Where are you going?”

  She makes one of her silly faces. “Out with friends. It’s allowed.”

  I make a face back at her. “Fine. Don’t tell me.”

  She laughs. “I wasn’t going to. Did you eat? There’s leftover pasta in the refrigerator.”

  Changing the subject. Yep, she definitely doesn’t want to tell me what’s up with her.

  Maybe Alan is in LA.

  Maybe that’s why she’s being so coy about this.

  Crap, has my dad finally drifted back into our universe?

  I study her and she looks away first.

  “I grabbed a burger on the way home.”

  She smiles, nods and continues reading whatever is on her phone.

  I enter the house, retrieve my tote from the kitchen, and go to my sister’s room. Krystal may only be nine, but she knows every freaking thing that goes on here.

  I enter and plop down on the bed beside her.

  Krystal’s face jerks up and she stares at me above her book. “Thanks a lot for knocking.”

  “It’s not like you were doing anything in here to interrupt. What’s up with Mom? She’s working out and she just told me she has plans on Saturday.”

  Krystal shrugs. “She’s been working out for weeks. Where have you been?”