Waking Up to Boys

by Hailey Abbott

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chelsea had never felt so worn down. Every step of the way home seemed to require more than she had in her, and the tourists, spectators, and contestants spilling all over the resort only seemed to mock her failure. She kept her head down and one hand over her face, as if trying to block her eyes from the sun, so that nobody would stop her to comment on her routine on the way home. She knew she had failed. She didn’t need the rest of the world reminding her.

  The screen door of her family’s log house slammed behind her as she entered, and she was halfway to the fridge in the kitchen when a large, heavy hand clamped down on her shoulder. She looked up to see her parents glaring down at her. She gulped hard. She knew what was about to hit the fan.

  “We need to talk,” Mark McCormick growled. “Sit.”

  Chelsea edged guiltily into one of the polished oak chairs surrounding the round kitchen table, feeling like a bad kid who’d been sent to the principal’s office.

  Her mom sighed and put her hand on her cheek. “Oh, Chelsea,” she said, taking a seat next to her husband.

  Chelsea sat in silence, waiting for it.

  “So,” her dad began. “We couldn’t help noticing you competing out there. Care to explain?”

  “I just had to,” Chelsea said quietly. She didn’t know why she hadn’t just told her parents earlier—after all, they had to find out eventually. The event was held off their resort’s beach, and it wasn’t like they weren’t going to show up.

  “Against the doctor’s orders? And ours?” her mom asked.

  “Yeah,” Chelsea said, gnawing at the skin around her pinky nail the way she did when she was very, very nervous. “I just couldn’t bear the thought of not competing in the Challenge. You know how hard I worked and practiced all year, and how much this means to me. Suddenly not being able to do it was like having this big, empty black hole in my life, and it was just killing me.” Passion and panic rose in Chelsea’s voice. “I know you guys care about me and want me to be safe, but this Challenge has been my life for the past year: Everything I’ve done has been working toward it. I knew I probably wouldn’t win, but I had to compete. I just had to!”

  “Chelsea,” her mom said warily.

  But her dad was smiling. He reached out and gently ruffled her hair. “You can be so stubborn, Champ,” he chuckled. “Just like me. I remember how much my parents wanted me to be a lawyer like my dad…but the only thing I was interested in was travel. He practically disowned me when I took out a bank loan to open my first resort instead of enrolling in law school.”

  “Exactly!” Chelsea jumped in. “Look, I understand if I’m in trouble. I expect it! But I had to be true to myself and do the one thing I wanted to do most in the world.”

  “You are certainly in trouble,” her dad replied. “Your mother and I need to discuss an appropriate punishment, but I can assure you that your actions will have consequences.”

  Chelsea looked down at the linoleum floor. “I just wanted to make you proud,” she said quietly.

  “Oh, honey,” her mom said. “You make us proud every day.”

  “Really?” Chelsea asked, suddenly serious. She couldn’t believe her parents would say that even after all the trouble she’d gotten into with the pool party, and then her accident, the constant sneaking around with Sebastian, and her forbidden participation in the Challenge.

  “Of course,” her dad assured her. “Did you ever think we weren’t proud of everything that you’ve accomplished?”

  “Well…sometimes I doubt it a little,” she admitted.

  “Having Sara here must have been a real change for you,” her mom said, reading her mind the way only a parent could.

  “It was different,” Chelsea replied. “Sometimes I felt like no matter what I did, it would never be as good as Sara, and…oh, I don’t know….”

  “The way we treated Sara this summer has nothing to do with either of you being as good as the other,” Mark explained. “She’s my daughter, too, but I barely know her. I have to make up for all those years of not really being there, and that means that your mom and I have to not only get to know her, but convince her that she’s important to us. You already know you’re important to us. Don’t you?”

  “Yeah,” Chelsea admitted. She had always known that her parents loved and cared about her…but it still felt good to hear them say it. “I like having Sara here, too,” she said. “It took me a while, but now I think she’s pretty great. I’m glad she’s part of our family.”

  “Good,” her dad said in his no-nonsense way. “I know that sixteen is a little late to gain a sister, so I’m glad you’re handling it okay. Then again, I don’t know if you’ve ever met anything you couldn’t handle. And honey? I’m sorry about Sebastian. I was completely wrong about him.”

  “Thanks, Dad.” Chelsea smiled, hiding the sharp stab she felt in her heart. “So, um…can I have a sandwich now?” she asked. “Because I’m starving.”

  She leapt up and began rummaging frantically in the fridge for peanut butter—but not without giving each of her parents a big fat hug.

  After the long, hot shower she’d promised herself, Chelsea rubbed Tiger Balm into her calves and shoulders, which were always sorer after a competition than after any practice session. Then she curled up in bed, hoping for a long, deep sleep to erase the memory of the fatal wipeout. But as soon as she was under the covers, Chelsea felt wide awake. Even as the sky outside grew darker and she forced herself to close her eyes and take deep breaths, she could hear snippets of live music and raucous laughter coming from the party down at the lake.

  There’s no point in going down there, she told herself sternly. You’ll just have to deal with everyone’s sympathy, and Todd is probably hooking up with some chick this very minute.

  But despite everything, Chelsea had to admit that the party sounded like fun. Maybe she could just go down there for a little while and check it out…if it turned out to be lame, all she had to do was turn around and leave.

  She pulled on her favorite olive-green Puma track pants and matching hoodie, slipped into her Reefs, and pulled her hair into a muss-free ponytail. At the last second, she added a lace-trimmed camisole underneath the sweatshirt for just a tiny feminine touch.

  The strains of Phunky Chicken, a local funk band, grew stronger as she made her way down to the dock. As she drew closer, she saw that the judges’ stand had been converted to a stage and the bleachers cleared away to make room for a temporary wooden dance floor, which was already occupied by a dense thicket of moving bodies. Paper lanterns dangling above the crowd glowed festively, and the makeshift wooden tiki bar in the corner was doing a brisk business handing out bottles of Jones Soda and Sierra Nevada, the Challenge’s beverage sponsors.

  “What’ll it be?” the bartender asked as she approached.

  “Root beer, thanks,” Chelsea said. As he slipped the icy cool bottle into her hands, the bartender did a double take, and his face widened into a smile. “Hey, you’re Chelsea McCormick!” he said. “That was one sweet routine out there. I can’t believe you nailed all those gnarly tricks with your arm fresh out of a friggin’ cast! You got bigger cojones than most of the guys out there!”

  Chelsea’s cheeks reddened at the compliment. But she was also confused. Why hadn’t he mentioned the wipeout?

  Not feeling quite ready to hit the dance floor, she took a seat at a table, sipping her soda and surveying the crowd. She saw Mel and Sienna dancing with two Australian guys who had competed in the men’s division, caught a glimpse of her dad talking animatedly with the Challenge’s head organizer, and waved to Sebastian and Nina, who were laughing together on the dance floor.

  She was about to get up and join them when Monica Kaplan, wearing a Puma tracksuit almost exactly like hers, only in lavender, emerged from the crowd and slid into the seat next to her.

  Chelsea reached out to slap her outstretched hand. “Congratulations on winning the division.”

  “Th
anks.” Monica smiled. “But I wouldn’t have stood a chance if you’d landed that last jump.”

  “Oh, I don’t know if that’s true,” Chelsea said. “You were awesome—you have great style, and you nailed every trick perfectly.”

  “Yeah, but I don’t have the same gonzo do-it-or-die energy as you,” Monica insisted. “You’re like a wild animal out there. I can tell there’s nothing you won’t do—you’ll probably be landing ten-eighties by the time you’re twenty. You are seriously talented.”

  Chelsea was blown away. “But what about that digger at the end?” she asked incredulously.

  Monica waved her hand dismissively. “Who even tries seven-twenties? That’s what I mean—you’re nuts out there, but you’re amazing. Hey, I gotta go find my little brother—I promised I wouldn’t leave him alone for too long. See you around.”

  After she had left, Chelsea stayed at the table. She tried to wrap her mind around the fact that Monica Kaplan, who had been dubbed the newcomer of the season by Wakefiend magazine, had just gone to such great lengths to compliment her. The Challenge was turning out to be full of surprises after all.

  Chelsea finished her root beer and decided to hit the dance floor. As she floated through the crowd of dancers, she spotted Sara, who was laughing and beckoning to her. “Hey, come dance with us!” she called, and Chelsea joined her. Sara’s face glowed with sweat and happiness—her hair was loose around her face, and even though she was wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and sneakers, Chelsea thought she looked prettier than ever. There was a new kind of twinkle in her eye, and Chelsea wondered where it came from.

  It didn’t take her long to find out. As they danced, Chelsea watched Leo spin Sara around. Laughing, Sara bent her head toward Leo’s and gave him a long, passionate kiss on the lips. When they finally pulled apart, Sara’s cheeks were flushed with pleasure and she was smiling wider than ever before.

  “I thought you said you and Leo were just friends!” Chelsea whispered in her sister’s ear.

  Sara just shrugged and grinned. “I thought we were, too, practically all summer,” she said. “But it turns out there was more there. I spent all summer taking a break from boys, and it turns out that Leo was spending all summer trying to teach me that they’re not all bad, after all.”

  “Listen to that,” Leo said proudly. “Apparently, I’m a catch. Who knew?”

  “Oh, stop.” Sara swatted playfully at his chest. Leo caught her hands and brought them to his lips.

  “Wow.” Chelsea was genuinely happy for Sara, but at the same time, seeing her sister and Leo together left an empty, aching hole of envy in her stomach. Everyone else had someone to share things with, and she was alone. As always.

  The thought made her weary and sad. “I’m going to take a little break,” she told the happy couple. “See you guys later.”

  She weaved in and out of the gyrating bodies until she was at the edge of the dance floor, and surveyed the partygoers clustered together at the tables around the edge. Suddenly, it seemed like everyone was part of a couple. Mel and Sienna had each taken their respective Aussies to a different table—Mel’s guy had his arm around her, and Sienna’s was holding her hand. Even Chelsea’s parents stood side by side as they chatted with the bartender, her mother naturally leaning into the curve of her father’s side.

  Chelsea was about to leave when she saw a familiar head of dirty-blond hair wandering away from the party, toward the lake. She sprang into action, following him down the winding gravel path, watching his tall, broad frame cross through the shadows of towering pines.

  The dock creaked slightly as he stepped onto it, and when she followed a moment later the cool lake breeze caressed her face, washing away any traces of sweat left from her stint on the dance floor. Empty boats bobbed gently up and down like sleeping ducks, and the music and laughter of the party were faint sounds in the distance.

  “Todd.” Chelsea called his name softly, and he whirled around to face her.

  “Did you follow me here?” he asked accusingly.

  “Yes.” Chelsea slowly approached him until she was close enough to see the uncertainty in his eyes. “I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Shoot,” Todd commanded.

  She wiped her sweaty palms on her track pants. “Why did you drop out of the competition today?” she asked.

  Todd’s blue eyes were dark against the night sky. “I wanted to win that Challenge,” he said. “But it wouldn’t have felt fair. You’re my real competition, and you always will be.”

  “Is that all you’ll ever see me as?” Chelsea’s voice shook. “The competition?” Tears quivered in the corners of her eyes. It wasn’t fair that all he wanted was to beat her, when she wanted so much more.

  “No.” Todd shook his head, his eyes flickering with pain. “I do see you as more. And that scares the hell out of me. How are we supposed to be competitors and also…also…”

  “Also this?” Chelsea asked. She took a step toward him, placed her hands on his shoulders, and brought her lips to his. At that moment, she could have sworn that the dock lifted into the air and started floating high above the lake, so far up that she could have touched the moon. Todd’s soft, strong lips moved against hers, and he pressed her tightly to his chest, his heart beating a mile a minute against hers.

  “Also that.” Todd laughed slightly as they pulled apart, his arms still around her waist. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “I don’t know how we’re supposed to be competitors and also that,” Chelsea admitted. “But I know it’s what I’ve always wanted.”

  And then Todd said what were to Chelsea the two most beautiful words in the English language: “Me too.”

  She wrapped her arms around him even tighter and snuggled into his chest. Neither of them said anything else for a long time after that. Just holding Todd, smelling him, and listening to him breathe was enough. Chelsea had won the one thing she’d wanted the most, and standing there on the dock with her arms wrapped around the one person she had always felt she belonged with was the best prize in the world.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  There was always something bittersweet about the last day of the summer season. All the tourists were gone, and the summer staffers were running around packing all their things, cleaning out the barracks, and getting ready for the Last Afternoon Picnic that had been a Glitterlake tradition for as long as Chelsea could remember.

  Chelsea sat on Sara’s bed, watching her carefully fold her clothes into a huge suitcase.

  “I’m sure going to miss your wardrobe,” Chelsea joked.

  “I knew it—you just love me for my clothes.” Sara pretended to be insulted.

  “Clothes, boy advice, and general sisterly there-ness,” Chelsea checked off on her fingers.

  Sara looked up from packing shoes in a garment bag and flashed a smile. “If you need help with any of those things, I’m just a phone call away.”

  “I may very well take you up on that.” Chelsea fiddled with the corner of Sara’s quilt. “So are you and Leo going to do the long-distance thing?”

  “No.” Sara laughed incredulously. “He’s moving to Santa Cruz to be with me while I go to school. He’s already hooked up a bartending gig there! Can you believe it?”

  “Wow.” Chelsea slowly let the news sink in. “He must like you a lot if he’s willing to give up a season on the slopes.”

  Sara shrugged happily as she folded a cardigan into her suitcase. “He says he’s always wanted to work on his surfing.”

  “Hey, girls,” Patty McCormick called from downstairs. “The picnic is about to start—do you want to head down there?”

  Sara grinned at Chelsea. “Good,” she said. “I am ridiculously hungry.”

  The two of them thundered down the stairs, and Patty grinned at them, obviously happy to see they were finally getting along. She put an arm around each girl and they headed down to the beach, where most of the summer staffers had already gathered and were chow
ing down on hamburgers, hot dogs, and shish kebabs.

  “All right, I know you’re all busy eating, but it wouldn’t be the end of the summer if I didn’t give my famous end-of-summer speech.” Mark McCormick got up on a picnic table and stamped his foot to get everyone’s attention.

  “Then don’t give it!” Leo called out, and the entire staff laughed.

  “Sorry, but a resort owner’s gotta do what a resort owner’s gotta do,” Mark said jovially. “So, here goes…as I’m sure you all know, it’s been a benchmark summer here at Glitterlake: from the resounding success of Sara’s nature hikes to hosting the Northwest Extreme Water Sports Challenge. And of course, I can’t help mentioning a certain not-quite-off-the-radar pool party”—many of the staff members giggled—“and all the great free hard manual labor I got as a result: That Breakneck Ridge Trail looks awesome!” At this, the entire staff burst into full-blown laughter, and Chelsea’s father joined them.

  “In all seriousness,” he continued, “you did a stellar job this year, and thanks to you, Glitterlake had a better summer season than ever. I wish you all the best of luck in the coming year, and hope that you choose to spend next summer right here at home with your Glitterlake family.”

  Chelsea looked around and noticed that several of the staffers were actually getting misty-eyed. She felt sad herself: sad that summer was over, sad that Todd was going away just when they had finally realized their true feelings for each other, sad that wakeboarding season would soon be done, and sad that the resort would empty out and she would have to wait until the first snow brought all the tourists back for ski season.

  “And now I want you to enjoy the rest of this beautiful afternoon,” Mark said. “The tourists are gone, and the resort is your playground until you have to leave. Enjoy…and make sure you come and say good-bye to me and Patty before you leave!”