by J. K. Rock
“Sorry, Kay,” he mumbled, stepping back. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. Have fun tonight.”
He kept on walking.
“Hey.” I couldn’t just ignore how upset he was, especially with Cam’s words still echoing around in my head. My friends would have to wait. I took a couple of steps to follow him out of the flickering torchlight toward the edge of the beach. “Nick, is everything all right?”
“No.” He stopped in the damp sand but didn’t turn around. Didn’t look at me. “Everything is not all right.”
His shoulders were tense. His fingers clenched tight at his sides. I remembered how he’d found me that first time—practically in tears because I couldn’t climb a steep cliff—and I took a deep breath, wanting to pay back how nice he’d been. He hadn’t ignored me when I’d been upset.
“I know the game didn’t turn out the way you wanted,” I said quietly, walking around him so that we at least stood face to face. “But you have a lot of friends here who think everything you’ve achieved has been amazing.”
“Friends?” He shook his head. “Kayla, no one but you even really knew my name here until this year. I was some forgettable kid. Just because everyone knows me now doesn’t mean anyone really gives a crap about me.” He folded his arms. “You think Brooke would notice me if I wasn’t famous?”
“She likes you for more than that.” At least I hoped she did. I hated to think of Nick being used. It was almost as bad as his father refusing to recognize all Nick had done.
“Well, I’m not sure at all.” He stalked farther from the beach into the trees nearby and dropped down onto a big, flat rock. “But one thing I do know is that I acted like a first-class jackass today during the game and it just proves…”
He shook his head and didn’t finish.
“You didn’t do anything wrong today.” I joined him on the rock, not sitting too close. We stared out at the water.
“I took it too seriously. I did stuff to piss Zach off on purpose. I stood right in front of him when I walked into the batter’s box—it’s like this unwritten rule in baseball that you don’t do that to a catcher. I just—” He cut himself off again and turned to face me. “He got released by the White Sox on Friday. I had no idea because we have no Internet here and my dad didn’t bother telling me about it until after the game.”
“Released?” I drew my feet up onto the rock and hugged my knees as a cooling breeze blew off the water.
“The major-league equivalent of being fired. He basically got cut because he didn’t come back from his injury fast enough and the new catcher they brought up is hitting well.”
“Can’t he just play for another team?”
“Possible but unlikely according to his agent. His career might be over. If someone had bothered to tell me, I would have said something to him. But he drove back to Charlotte and my father stayed to bitch me out.” He propped his elbows on his knees and covered his eyes with one hand. “And I deserved it.”
“Your dad should have told you sooner.” What kind of father played head games like that? “Why don’t you call Zach? He might be glad to hear from you.”
Nick scraped a hand through his hair and looked over at me. “Zach didn’t deserve the B.S. from me. He drove all the way over here from Charlotte after he got released, and I was a total—”
“So call him. Go see Gollum and tell him it’s urgent. He’ll let you use your phone if you tell him what happened.” It was camp, not jail, for crying out loud.
He nodded, but I had the impression he was only half-listening. I swear I could see the thoughts going through his head, the words waiting to get out.
“I know what that pressure’s like, Kayla.” His voice hit a rough note. “The crushing expectations of everyone who’s invested you. It’s a constant head game. The travel is lonely, and the training is relentless.”
Close by us, the luau kicked into high gear as Gollum broke out a ukulele and launched into something he called a Don Ho classic. The warbling tune about a golden moon and silver sea felt like it came from a million miles away from Nick and me.
“I thought you loved snowboarding.” I looked down at his hand on the rock near mine, his skin paler in the moonlight. It was hard to believe there’d been a time I wouldn’t have thought twice about touching him. About holding his hand. “I remember when you told me about how good you’d gotten over the winter and how your friend wanted you to attend tryouts for the U.S. national team. You were so excited.”
“Yeah?” He frowned. “It’s weird. I hardly remember anything about that summer before you—” He stopped himself. Shook his head. “Before we stopped being friends.”
“You were really wound up. You were talking fast and there was this whole new…” I couldn’t think of how to describe it. “…spark around you. Snowboarding seemed like a really big deal.”
“I don’t even know what made me tell you about it.”
“It meant a lot to you.” It baffled me that he didn’t remember that day as clearly as I did. I’d gone through that conversation a thousand times, reliving it, wishing it had ended differently. On the beach, Rob took over the musical entertainment, breaking out his guitar to sing a song that had at least been written in this century. It was too dark to really see who was who down by the food tables, but every now and then a glow-in-the-dark football or Frisbee whizzed through the air in a blur of neon green.
“I guess I forgot that. In my mind, I feel like I started snowboarding more to occupy myself while I was trying to forget about you.”
Wait. What? That was so not my impression. He’d wanted to be on that team, damn it. Why else would I have dropped the only real friend I’d had?
“Nick, the biggest reason I pushed you away that summer was so that you could snowboard without worrying about me.” I’d held onto that secret for so long it felt weird to share it now, but he should know the truth, if only to help him remember how passionate he’d been about the sport at one time.
“What?” He shook his head, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“You said you came to camp instead of the tryouts that year to be with me. Otherwise, you would have given the U.S national team a shot.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes meeting mine in the moonlight. “And you let me think you didn’t care, even though you knew you were more important to me than anything else in my life?”
I’d thought his eyes were haunted when I’d seen him earlier tonight. That didn’t compare to the depth of emotion I saw now.
“I was fourteen, Nick.” A shiver of worry made me rub my arms. The way he said it made me think I’d handled it all wrong. “It seemed like the right decision at the time.”
“Why didn’t you just say, ‘Hey, Nick, I really think you should follow your dreams’ and let me make up my own mind about what I wanted to do?”
“You said you wanted to honor your promise to be here for me. You seemed so committed to that, and I didn’t want you to feel like you had to be tied to me and all my crap.” The worry I’d been feeling turned into a breathless spike of panic. Had I made things even worse by telling him the truth? “I wanted you to be free to make that decision without worrying about me.”
“You know the hell I went through alone these past two years? While you were at camp playing volleyball with the Divas, I was waking up at 4:00 A.M. to train and breaking bones in every country with a skiable mountain.”
“Because you wanted to. Because you loved it.” I had to believe that, even though it was tougher to see things in black and white now that I’d had a front-row seat to his messed-up family dynamics.
“Because I missed the only person who’d never really cared about whether I was good at sports or not. Someone who didn’t want to be with me just because I could do a double-cork or land a 1080 before I was sixteen.”
“You regret winning a gold medal?” I wasn’t going to take the blame for his broken bones or his competitive streak. I’d
seen how badly he wanted to try out for that team, and I’d stood back so he could do just that. “You could have quit any time.”
“I don’t give up on the things—or the people—that I care about.” He slid off the rock and stood in the damp sand in front of me, his light blue T-shirt washed out to gray in the moonlight. “I wish you didn’t either.”
He stalked off into the night away from me. I’d spoken from the heart and revealed more of myself to him than I ever had. But instead of getting closer to Nick, I’d pushed him farther away. And this time, I hadn’t even meant to.
I went through the motions of the luau with my friends. I ate huli huli chicken and tried on a grass skirt. But all I could think of was Nick. In the end, I complained of a headache to Victoria and left early. Maybe it was old time’s sake that had me reaching under the porch rail. Unbelievably, a piece of paper was tacked there.
Heart in my throat, I flipped it open and tilted it toward the moonlight. The message was short though. The black pencil a sharp scrawl across the white paper. The last word I wanted to see tonight.
Goodbye.
Chapter Fourteen
A shrill whistle pierced the air the next day, and I cracked open one eyelid to the gray, pre-dawn light.
“Whaaa…” someone mumbled below me. Rachel.
The screen door banged open. “Extras! It’s time to shoot the outdoor scenes for my video!” Brooke’s face swam into view as I propped up my head and squinted down at her.
“Sleep. Must. Have. Sleep.” Brittany thumped her pillow and turned on her side, facing the wall.
“Gollum’s given us ten minutes to get to the mess hall for early eats, then down to the field for hair, makeup, and supa-stardom!” She twirled, her short, plaid skirt reminding me of a field hockey uniform.
“Just kill me now!” Hannah groaned, an arm thrown over both eyes.
Nia pulled her blanket over her head and burrowed lower under her covers.
“Seriously?” Brooke stamped her foot when no one answered her. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” The screen door squeaked shut behind her.
“That was easy,” whispered Hannah, her voice barely audible over Victoria’s loud snores.
“I know. Thought we’d be stuck doing her stupid video all day when we could be swimming. Wouldn’t mind seeing Nick in a suit again.” Brittany laughed.
And that’s when last night’s exchange came flooding back: the betrayed look in Nick’s eye, the knowledge that I’d put it there, and the note that ended our summer games. Goodbye. I should be happy to be free of the torment, but instead I felt hollow. Desiccated. An empty tide pool at noon.
Suddenly, someone blasted a whistle in my ear. Or that’s what it felt like. I bolted upright and tried focusing on what appeared to be three Brookes, Gollum’s whistle clamped between her teeth.
“Chop-chop, people. The camera crew is already setting up, and since I have a limited budg—I mean time—we need to move.” She blew the whistle again, and even Nia popped out of her hiding spot. “I mean it. I can keep doing this all day.”
“And miss your precious video shoot?” Hannah drawled from her side of the cabin.
“Gollum declared this a mandatory senior activity.” She swung the whistle by its silver chain. “Don’t make me ask him to step in and remind you.”
“Ahhh!” Brittany shrieked. “No way is some old creeper coming in here. Fine. Whatever. We’ll be out in five.”
Brooke raised the whistle to her mouth and dodged a balled-up T-shirt Rachel threw at her. “Make it two minutes.”
Brittany lowered her chin and glared. “Three.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Brooke stomped outside, and a collective groan echoed in our cabin.
“So not fine,” whimpered Nia, though she slung her legs over her cot and grabbed yesterday’s outfit from the floor by her bunk. “Thought we were done following her orders.”
Rachel pulled on a T-shirt and spoke through the fabric. “These are Gollum’s orders.” Her head emerged, her curls standing at odd angles. “How weird that he’s so into this.”
“And she had his whistle. Like when does he ever let that thing out of his sight?” Brittany applied eyeliner in the mirror, one strap of her sundress still under her arm.
Hannah buttoned a pair of shorts. “He’s had it every minute of the seven years I’ve been here.”
“Guess he’s serious then.” I gave Victoria’s bunk a swift kick, then scrambled to get dressed and follow my cabin mates out the door.
Two hours later we waited on the field, crisping under the sun like the overcooked bacon we’d gulped down at breakfast. Of course, the morning meal felt like it had happened eons ago, considering all we’d accomplished since then was five minutes each in the hair stylists’ chair. Most of the time, we just watched Brooke get her hair and makeup done and redone. Her stylist looked as though she was ready to pull Brooke’s hair out rather than redo it for a fourth time.
“This is ridiculous. Hello? Some of us have a life that doesn’t revolve around Brooke.” Brittany slung an arm around Nia. “And that includes you now, too.”
Nia flushed, her eyes sparkling. I knew exactly how she felt. Being included was heady stuff. It meant people had your back, others wouldn’t mess with you, and you were never alone as long as a there was cell phone service. Despite the long wait, I’d had as much fun as I could without worrying about Nick showing up. So far, he’d been late. Typical star behavior, I guessed. Or maybe he was avoiding me after last night’s fight.
To pass the time, we’d played “Would You Rather,” braided flower headbands for each other, and did our best impressions of some of the counselors. Nia was the clear winner when she gave a speech, as Gollum, about the dangers of “improper thoughts,” which led to us asking “him” as many improper questions as we could until we’d been shushed by Gollum himself.
In fact, our camp leader ran around like he was the real director instead of the guy peering through a camera at different angles and trying out a variety of lighting panels. Given that Miss High-and-Mighty Brooke White was now the outsider in our cabin and spending her free time with Gollum (so weird!), it made a little sense that he felt responsible. A very little.
I watched as Gollum approached Cameron and got into a discussion with him that ended with the two of them heading to hair and makeup. Weird. Why did Cam need a special wardrobe? Other than some foundation, which had sweat off my face an hour ago, we were all in our regular camp clothes. Unless…a thought occurred. A horrible one. I looked around for Nick. I’d been so determined not to see him that I hadn’t noticed he still wasn’t here. This was beyond late. It felt like a no-show.
“Have you seen Nick?” I asked Piper as she strolled past me collecting recyclables from the camera crew whenever they finished with their seltzer waters, energy drinks, and bottled juices.
“Oh, didn’t you hear?” Her bag of cans clanked against her knee as she paused. “He left camp, and Cam’s going to take his spot in the video.” She twirled a hemp bracelet, her eyes faraway. “Won’t he be great?”
I stared at her, my mind too busy processing that Nick had left camp to answer her. His note had said goodbye. Had he meant it for real? As in physically?
“Hey, Kayla?” Piper looked at me, her thin eyebrows meeting above her nose. “Are you and Cam still together?”
“What?” I shook my head. “No.”
What a crappy time to realize that, now more than ever, my heart belonged to Nick. I should have tried harder to make him understand last night. Used my newfound voice and insisted he hear me out. But I’d been too stunned that my best intentions to send him to the national team tryouts had backfired. I’d thought I was helping him, pushing him toward something he wanted, but it turned out I wasn’t any better than his father, manipulating him into doing something that he hadn’t chosen. I’d broken both our hearts for nothing.
And now he was gone.
> Piper smiled. “That’s cool. So then no worries if Cam and I like—”
My hand waved her words away. “Seriously. Don’t need the details. It’s cool.”
“Sweet. Thanks, Kayla. You always were the nice Diva.”
A chorus of “heys!” from my cabin mates followed Piper as she loped off to join the other Munchies.
“I’m way nicer than any of you, and if anyone disagrees, I’ll claw your eyes out.” Hannah shook back her blaze of red hair, and for a moment I had a flashback to the days when she’d ruled us all and tormented me most.
Her frown turned into a smirk, and we all laughed, relieved. Nick wasn’t the only one who’d left. So had the old Hannah.
“And, Kayla, that was cool of you to let Cam go.”
I shrugged. He’d been a good boyfriend and deserved to be happy.
“Hos before bros!” Brittany called out, earning a sharp glance from one of the counselors.
“Brit, it’s ‘bros before hos,’ and boys say it, not girls. It’s, like, demeaning to women.” Rachel scuffed the dirt in front of her, the small groove she’d started an hour ago widening to a legit hole.
Brittany’s ponytail bobbed as she nodded. “Exactly. If they can be mean to us, then we’re taking it back and being mean to them.”
“Uh, I’m not sure it works that way,” Nia put in, her eyes downcast, tone uncertain.
Brittany stuck her fist out. “So are you with me?”
Her innocent grin was irresistible despite my dark mood. Plus, the fist pile-on was a Diva tradition, and it felt good right now to be part of the pack.
We stacked our fists, one on top of the other, until mine ended up on top. After making an exploding sound, we shouted “Hos!” before collapsing on the ground in giggles.
“So lame,” Rachel finally got out.
Brittany rolled over on her stomach and flung a fistful of grass at Rachel. “Totally.”
“How did we ever think that was cool?” Hannah groaned, her brown eyes flashing.
“How did we ever think we were cool?” I replied, meaning it. I’d worked so hard not to be the loser in the group when we’d all been kind of pathetic.
