Charlie sat quietly for a moment. Soon he started nodding, slowly at first, then gathering speed. “You’re right. I know you’re right. But . . .”
“No buts. Do it.”
At that very moment Cassie saw a familiar figure rushing down the path outside. Rust-colored, bouncy curls. Super-straight posture. Andi.
It had to be a sign!
“Here’s your chance, Charlie.” Cassie rushed to the door and yanked it open. “Andi! Andi, can you come here a sec?”
“Wha? Huh? But . . .” Charlie had turned the color of loose-leaf paper. His head turned this way and that, as if desperately searching the cabin for an emergency exit.
Andi changed her trajectory without slowing down. Within seconds she was breezing into the room. “Yeah? What is it, guys?”
“Charlie wanted to ask you something.” Cassie gestured toward him.
“Okay, sure.” Andi turned toward him and smiled. “What is it?”
“I . . . I was . . .” Charlie suddenly looked sunburned. “I wanted to know if . . . if you wanted the Gnarls Barkley version of ‘Gone Daddy Gone’ or the original one for the dance mix.”
“Oh. Either one. I like both.”
Cassie felt both mad and sad for him. “Anything else?” she prompted.
“No. That’s it.” Charlie stared down at the floor, his shoulders slouched as if in defeat. “Thanks, Andi.”
“No prob,” she squeaked. Then, in one quick motion, she turned about and breezed out of the door.
“Please don’t start,” Charlie said to his shoes—only Cassie knew he was talking to her. “I just couldn’t do it. I don’t know why. I just couldn’t. Not . . . yet.”
“It’s all right,” she replied. “Believe me. I understand.”
“Has someone been using my cell phone?” Danica looked down at her BlackBerry. Something was weird. It was on a brand-new ring setting. And she’d found it on the nightstand between her and Sasha’s beds.
She never put it there. Sasha was her friend, but she was also the world’s biggest klutz. She’d seen her knock five things off that stand in the first week alone.
No one replied. Everyone was too busy chatting about the dance and holding up dresses and shoes.
“I said,” she repeated in a louder voice, “has someone been using my cell phone?”
“Not me,” said Sierra. “Why would I use it?”
“Maybe if your phone was broken?” Sasha suggested.
Sierra tossed a peach-colored sundress onto her bed and huffed at Sasha. “I wasn’t actually asking for reasons why I would use Danica’s phone. I wouldn’t. Even if mine was busted.”
“I bet you would,” Sasha pouted.
Danica rolled her eyes. Her friends were loyal and usually pretty fun. But sometimes she dreamed of knocking their heads together.
“For the last time . . . who’s been messing with my phone?”
This time the place fell silent. Everybody stared at her, then at one another.
“Not me.”
“Me either.”
“I didn’t.”
Danica listened to the chorus of denials and scrutinized each of the faces. They all seemed to be telling the truth, as far as she could tell.
Almost all of them . . .
Not everyone responded. Across the room she could see Cassie sitting on her bed, her nose in an issue of Surfer. Only she didn’t seem to be reading. Her posture was too stiff and unless she needed granny glasses, the magazine was a bit too close to her face. It looked more like she was trying to hide behind it.
Danica flipped open her cell and started pushing random buttons, hoping to find a clue—or at least change it back to her preset John Mayer ringtone. Let’s see . . . tools? Alerts? Messaging?
Wait a sec . . . what was this?
She distinctly remembered having cleared all her messages before leaving for Oahu. Yet according to the menu she had one text saved. Even more intriguing—it had been sent yesterday, while she was gone.
“Okay. Now I know one of you is lying,” she announced. “Who’s been looking at my messages?” She held up her phone as proof.
Once again, the room got quiet.
“How do you know someone looked at your texts?” Sasha asked.
“Because I left it here when I went to Oahu. Now I find there’s a saved message that I never saw. From yesterday.”
“That’s low,” Sierra said, all open-mouthed with shock. “Why would someone get into your messages?”
“Because they’re a lowlife freak, duh,” Danica replied.
“Well, it wasn’t me.” Sasha looked accusingly at Sierra.
“Well, me either!” Sierra huffed. “I thought she took it with her to Oahu.”
Again, Danica glanced over at Cassie. Her nose was still buried in that magazine. Was it her imagination? Or were the girl’s ears turning pink?
Cassie must have sensed she was being watched. Just then, she glanced up, caught Danica’s eye, and quickly looked away. After pretending to stretch she returned to her “reading,” looking even more uncomfortable than before. Her bent left leg started to jiggle and her ears went from rosy pink to a dark bloodred.
Hmmm, Danica thought. Could it be?
She opened the file.
“It’s from Micah!” Danica exclaimed. “Someone read my personal text from Micah!”
The girls gasped.
“Really? What does it say?” Sasha asked.
“Um, hello?” Sierra said, jabbing Sasha with an empty hanger. “It’s personal! Like she said.”
Once again Danica stared at Cassie, who obviously seemed to know she was being watched. The girl kept shielding herself behind the magazine, pulling in her legs and bending her arms, as if she were trying to make herself smaller.
Caught you, Danica thought. But why would Surf Girl do that? What was she up to? She was certainly acting weirder than usual.
Danica turned away from the others and read the text. It was typical Micah in all his niceness, checking up on her after her mini freak-out over losing her heat. No big deal. Then she read it again—only this time she tried to imagine herself as Cassie.
Thx for before . . . hair clip in my room . . . sneak it to you later . . .
Suddenly it all made sense. Cassie, that scheming little witch, had read her text message and assumed she and Micah had gotten all cozy during the trip! Ha! Served her right!
After a moment or two of power-fidgeting, Cassie suddenly jumped to her feet and started walking toward the door, accidentally knocking into Sierra, who was posing with yet another sundress.
“Hey!” Sierra cried.
“Sorry,” Cassie muttered. “Gotta go . . . um . . . I left some stuff on the beach.”
Ducking her head, she spun back around and flew out the door.
“Spaz,” Sierra grumbled, going back to her mini fashion show.
Danica smiled. She suddenly felt a new surge of energy—something she hadn’t experienced since before the surf contest.
Ever since she got back from Oahu she’d been spending all her free time “resting up” from the trip. In part because she did feel like a lazy blob, but also to avoid the endless questions her friends were dying to ask her. She’d been in the middle of one of these “breathers” when she noticed the phone in its new spot.
Now she felt better. Much better.
She should have felt sorry for Cassie. But she didn’t.
She should have explained. But she wouldn’t.
Instead she saw it as a sign.
Maybe this was supposed to happen. Maybe this was how she could finally get her mojo back.
Cassie was beginning to think there were sharks on land as well as in the deep.
First Micah and that text. And the way he’d practically admitted his vacation love match with Danica outside the infirmary. (He’d even used the word sneaky!)
Then Tori and her I’ll-do-anything-for-a-guy-even-risk-my-own-neck-and-those-of-my-friends philosophy.
She lay on her bed in the semi-darkness, watching through her eyelashes as Danica held court with her friends.
“What do you mean?” Sasha urged in a whisper so shrill, she might as well have been screaming. “What do you mean the surf contest wasn’t your top priority?”
“Duh, Sasha!” Sierra didn’t even try to hold her voice down. “She means guys! Right, Dan? So who’d you meet?”
“Meet? Who says I met anyone?” Danica hugged her bent legs to her chest and smiled smugly. “What’s the point of meeting guys when you’re there with the hottest of them all?”
“You mean . . . ?” Sasha went speechless.
“Are you guys back together?” Sierra finished.
Danica lifted her right shoulder coyly. “Well . . . let’s just say that I can describe the inside of his hotel room to you.”
Sasha and Sierra gasped in unison. Then Sierra leaned toward Danica and said in her not-really-a-whisper, “But I thought he was with . . .” She tilted her head toward Cassie—who hoped she was doing a good enough job of pretending to be asleep.
Danica shrugged her shoulders in an exaggerated way and they all burst into laughter.
Cassie wished they would just go to sleep already. She’d tried her best to avoid this. She’d made some lame excuse to leave the cabin earlier and then wandered around like a lost kitten until it was past lights-out.
At least now she knew for certain. Her fears had officially been confirmed. Not that it hurt any less.
“He almost wouldn’t leave me alone,” Danica went on. “Even when we had to be apart, he kept checking up on me. Not that I minded.”
Okay. I get it. You won him back. Bully for you. Now shut up already! Cassie’s gut was twisting into various knots. If it was this bad now, how awful would it feel when he officially broke up with her? She couldn’t avoid that forever.
That was probably what he was trying to do that morning—before Tori’s wipeout. He did seem kind of squirmy. And why else would he hang around the infirmary? Sure he was worried about Tori. But he could have gone back and waited for word. Even Wesley didn’t hang around that long.
“. . . and we even snuggled up in the taxi van,” Danica went on. “He fell asleep resting his head against me. It was so cute.”
Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease stop! Cassie urged silently. If there were any powers in the universe that cared about her, they would strike Danica mute this instant. Or strike Cassie deaf. Or blast some harmless sleeping gas into the cabin.
And then suddenly relief did come. An ethereal vision that looked surprisingly like Simona filled the doorway.
“Cassie! Come with me!” the vision said.
It was Simona. Wearing a nightgown and an angry snarl, but a vision nonetheless.
“Coming,” Cassie said, sitting up and pretending to yawn. She could feel all non-sleeping eyes on her as she stepped outside and joined Simona on the wooden stoop.
“You have a phone call in the office,” Simona muttered. She turned and tramped down the stairs.
Cassie followed, somewhat tentatively. “Is it my mom?”
“I don’t know who he is, but please tell him there are no phone calls allowed past nine unless it’s an emergency.”
Him? “Yes, ma’am.”
During the entire walk to the office Cassie tried to imagine who it could be. Her dad? Uncle Douglas? Barry, the pool cleaner? She didn’t know that many men.
It was both an utter relief to be out of the bunkhouse and a total scare that there could be bad news waiting for her.
“Line one,” Simona said as they entered the office. She pointed at the boxy phone with the blinking lights. “Please turn out the lights when you leave.”
Cassie waited until Simona stepped through the door to her living quarters and closed it behind her. Then she picked up the receiver and pressed the flashing orange Line 1 button. “Hello?”
“Hey, doll! Howzit going?”
Okay. This was odd. She had absolutely no idea who it was.
“Um . . . this is Cassie Hamilton,” she said, wondering if Simona might have made a mistake. The voice started laughing.
That laugh. Where did she know that laugh from?
“I know it’s you, Hot Dog. I was trying to track you down. I told the grumpy lady this was an important private matter so that she’d go fetch you. Sorry if I got you in trouble.”
Hot Dog? There was only one person in the world who called her that. Because she’d out-eaten him in hot dogs. Twice.
“Bo?”
Again came the memorable laugh. “Yeah, it’s me. Who’d you think it was?”
“Well . . . not you! How’d you even know I was here?”
“Your friend told me. That superpolite dude. Um . . . um . . . oh yeah! Micah.”
Now she was more confused than ever. “You know Micah?”
“We met at the Junior Surf Invitational. Didn’t he tell you?”
“No.” That’s odd, she thought. Why didn’t he mention it? “But . . . we haven’t seen each other much since he got back.”
“Well, here’s some good news. I’m coming to see you!”
“You are?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna be on the Big Island tomorrow and thought I’d stop by. Is that okay?”
Cassie thought for a moment. Was it okay? It was fine with her. She’d love to see Bo. He’d always been a fun guy and it would be a welcome break from all the drama. But more importantly, would it be okay with Simona?
Only one way to find out.
“Hang on a sec, okay, Bo?”
She set down the receiver and knocked on Simona’s door.
A second later it opened wide enough to reveal the head counselor’s angry, and extremely tired-looking, face. “Yeah?”
“I’m so sorry to bother you. Again. It’s just . . . I was wondering. What are the rules on C.I.T.s having visitors?”
“It’s up to the head counselor’s discretion.” Simona raised her eyebrows quizzically. “Why?”
“Well . . . my buddy Bo—he’s also a pro surfer—would like to stop by sometime tomorrow. He’s a great guy. Really. In fact, he was just at the Surf Invitational and met Micah.”
Simona let out a long sigh. “You say you can vouch for him?”
“Yes. No problem.”
There was a long pause as Simona gave her a hard stare. Finally she nodded. “I guess that would be okay. You’ve been a big help lately. You deserve it.”
“Thank you! Thank you so much!”
“But only for two hours.”
“That’s fine.”
“And no taking him into the girls’ cabins.”
“No problem. Thanks again!”
Simona shut the door.
Cassie skipped all the way back to the desk and scooped up the receiver. “Bo?”
“Yeah, Hot Dog?”
“It’s a go!”
“See this? That was from the reefs off Bells Beach. Cut right through my wet suit. And this one I got off Oahu’s North Shore two years ago. It was worth it, though.”
Cassie was immensely glad that Bo had come. They’d had so much fun walking along the beach and reliving old times. She’d even challenged him to another hot dog-eating contest. This time he won.
Now he was showing off his scars for the small crowd that had built up around them during their post-lunch stroll. Tori seemed to have forgotten all about Wesley for at least an hour. And Sasha and Sierra were being especially nice to Cassie for a change. This didn’t seem to go over well with Danica, but at least she had the decency to keep her distance. She sunned herself on the beach, pretending not to care. Still, Cassie had caught her frowning at them a few times.
“What about that scar?” Sierra asked, stepping a little too close to Bo and pointing to a white mark on his hand.
“Aw, that one had nothing to do with surfing,” he explained. “I got that feeding some steak to my brother
’s dog. Apparently he didn’t know where the meat ended and my fingers began!”
The surrounding pack of girls—and a few guy fans—all laughed appreciatively.
Suddenly Bo looked over their heads and smiled. “Hey!” he shouted, waving his arm up high.
“Hey, Micah!”
Cold tingles swept over Cassie. She’d forgotten they knew each other. Sort of.
She turned around and saw Micah leaning over Danica, talking to her.
Of course.
“Micah!” Bo called again.
Micah finally turned and headed toward them. Although he seemed rather reluctant. His smile looked fake and he kept glancing left, right, up, down—as if he couldn’t bear to gaze directly at them.
“Hey, Bo,” he said as soon as he got within range. “What are you . . . I mean . . . I didn’t expect to see you here.”
Bo spread out his arms. “Surprise.”
Everyone laughed except for Cassie and Micah.
“Just thought I’d come check out the place,” Bo explained. He reached forward, grabbed Micah’s hand, and gave it a vigorous shake. “It’s good to see you, dude. How’s the surfing coming along?”
“Oh, well. You know. Hasn’t changed much from two days ago.”
Bo let out his trademark laugh and walloped Micah on the back. “Now if you need any pointers, you can always ask my girl here.” He slung his arm around Cassie and pulled her in a sideways hug. “She’s smokin’ hot on land and on the water—am I right?”
Cassie rolled her eyes. She adored Bo—really. He was like . . . the big brother she always wanted. But he could be so clueless sometimes.
Like now. He didn’t seem to notice how awkward Micah looked. (Probably upset that, once again, he’d have to delay dumping her.) Or how stiff she was. Or how Sierra and Sasha were about to unscrew their own necks the way they kept glancing from Bo to Cassie to Micah to Danica and back again.
“Yeah. She’s a big leaguer all right,” Micah murmured.
What did that mean? Cassie tried to peer around Bo’s big beefy chest to glance at Micah and check his expression. But just then Tori stepped right up to Bo, blocking the view.
Sunset Page 10
