Surface

by Jody Morse

  Finally, I said, “I guess you’re right. I must have sleepwalked.”

  Tyler stood up and grabbed my hand. “Come on. I’ll walk you home again. Let’s hope you stay put this time,” he laughed.

  I let him help me up and forced myself to laugh back. The alarm-like ringing sound had filled my ears again. Glancing over the cliff that the lighthouse rested on and into the water, my heart stopped. I was positive that I saw something bobbing in the water below us.

  “Everything okay?” Tyler asked when I just stood there in place.

  “Yeah, everything’s fine,” I muttered and followed him, trying to ignore the song that drifted from somewhere behind us, which reminded me so much of Scarlett’s melody.

  Chapter 7

  The next morning, I stayed in bed long after I had woken up. With my sheets drawn over my head and my hot breath making the morning heat even more unbearable, I thought about the night before. I still couldn’t figure out what had happened, but I knew one thing: I was never telling anyone about what had happened. It was bad enough that Tyler knew.

  Around noon, my cell phone blared from my nightstand. Scrambling to answer the phone, I glanced at the caller ID. It was Carrie.

  “Hey,” I said into the phone, rolling onto my side.

  “What’s up?” Carrie trilled from the other end.

  “Not me,” I groaned. “I just woke up a little while ago.”

  “Felicia Parks! That’s so not like you. Tell me it was because you and Tyler rolled around in the sand late into the morning,” Carrie said playfully. I could imagine her winking at me from wherever she was.

  “It was something like that,” I mumbled, thinking about how I had woken up with Tyler next to me. If it were any other situation, I might have thought it was sweet for him to walk me home not just once, but twice. Maybe I even would have tried for that first kiss again. But it was all just too weird.

  Carrie must not have heard what I said because she didn’t question what had happened between me and Tyler any further. “So, I was thinking that we could go to The Cove for lunch, and then to the beach for the day. It’s supposed to rain later, but we might as well hang out since we both have off today.”

  I glanced down at my clothing. I was still wearing the camisole and shorts that Tyler had caught me in the night before. Running a hand through my hair, I found that it was covered in sweat; I wondered if it was from being sort of stressed out about what had happened or if it had been from my late night stroll to the lighthouse. Maybe I’d jogged in my sleep for all I knew.

  “I need to take a shower first,” I told her. “Can we meet at The Cove in an hour?”

  “Sounds good to me,” Carrie said before hanging up the phone.

  As I climbed into the bathtub and turned on the showerhead, I decided that there was no use in worrying about the night before. I would never know what really happened—and if it happened again, maybe I would go do a sleep study at some hospital to find out if I really am a sleepwalker, just to put my mind at ease.

  When I climbed out of the shower, I grabbed a towel from the rack and began patting myself dry. Once I got to my arms, I realized that there was nothing to dry, though. I wasn’t wet.

  I ran a hand through my hair. It felt clean, and a quick glance in the mirror proved that it looked shiny and like it had just been styled, but it didn’t feel wet at all.

  I also couldn’t explain why my body wasn’t wet or why the fluffy bathroom rug, which I usually drenched with water after I stepped out of a shower, was as dry as could be.

  Like last night, I couldn’t figure out anything that could explain it, though. Deciding that it was going to be another one of the mysteries that I would be left to think about all day, I quickly changed into my lime green tankini. I pulled a pair of dark wash denim shorts and a coral halter top on over my bathing suit. Normally, I probably wouldn’t wear my bathing suit to a restaurant, but there were bound to be lots of beach goers grabbing a bite to eat at the restaurant in wet bathing suits at this time of day. At least mine was dry.

  As I strolled down the hallway, I found Gram sitting at the kitchen island, eating a bowl of soup. I wrinkled my nose. “I don’t know how you can eat soup on such a hot day.”

  “Soup’s good on any day,” Gram replied, shaking her head, her short salt and pepper-colored hair moving with it. “Would you like some? It’s clam chowder.”

  “No, thanks,” I replied. “I’m going to get lunch with Carrie before we go to the beach.”

  As I was about to turn around and head out the door, Gram gave me a ‘look’ that made me stop dead in my tracks.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked. “I know we haven’t spent much time with each other lately, but . . . I’ve been busy with work and all.”

  Gram shrugged. “Everything’s fine. Is there something you want to tell me, though?”

  “No?” I asked, unsure of what Gram could be referring to.

  “Dana said she saw you cozying up with a boy at a party last night,” Gram said slowly, spooning a mouthful of clam chowder into her mouth. “Is that true?”

  I gritted my teeth. Dana was Gram’s friend Maureen’s granddaughter. I hadn’t even spotted her at the party last night, but leave it to her to rat me out to her grandmother in hopes that it would get back to my grandmother.

  This wasn’t the first time Dana had done something like this, either. Once, she told Gram that I’d gotten an ‘F’ in our shared Science class when she’d peeked over at my progress report before I’d had the chance to tell my grandmother myself.

  When I didn’t respond right away, Gram said, “I don’t mind you going to parties, Felicia. I might be an old fogey, but I realize that someone your age has to enjoy life a little. Besides, I know you’re responsible enough to not make any poor decisions.”

  So apparently Dana hadn’t told her that I had gotten completely wasted last night. That was a little surprising. She must not have noticed . . . or maybe she had been wasted, too, and didn’t want to seem like a hypocrite by ratting me out.

  “What I do expect,” my grandmother continued, “is for you to tell me about your boyfriends. Why haven’t I even heard anything about this young fella yet? A nice boy would want to come around the house and meet your grandma.”

  “I was going to tell you. I just haven’t seen you that much this week,” I insisted, unsure if I was actually telling the truth. I never kept secrets from my grandmother, but it hadn’t occurred to me to tell her about Tyler yet—probably because we had only just met and I wasn’t sure if it was going to amount to anything.

  “I understand,” Gram replied. I thought I noticed a disappointed look in her eyes, but she quickly blinked it away. “It would be nice if you could introduce us sometime soon.”

  I nodded. “I will. I promise!”

  “Good,” Gram smiled. She waved her hand at me. “Go have fun with Carrie! I’ll see you later.”

  “I love you, Gram,” I said, kissing her on the forehead, before turning around and walking out the front door.

  *

  “I can’t believe you still don’t like seafood,” Carrie said as she dipped a piece of her fried fish in the black cup of tartar sauce on her plate and stuffed it in her mouth. “It’s so good,” she said in between bites.

  “Yuck,” I replied, dipping a chicken strip in the plastic cup of honey mustard that came with my own meal. I’d never understood how Carrie stayed so skinny. She ate fried fish and French fries like they were going out of style.

  “So, tell me,” Carrie said, swallowing her food. “What’s the real reason you didn’t want to see Jackson last night?”

  “I honestly felt bad,” I explained. “Tyler was there . . . and he was so cute. I couldn’t just go talk to some other guy.” I pushed the thought of the Lifeguard Chair Guy out of my mind; it’s not like I had planned to talk to him.

  “Are you sure it’s not because you were nervous about seeing Jackson?” Carrie asked with an eyebrow raised. “
I mean, it’s been years since your elementary school crush on him.”

  “Maybe I was a little nervous. I don’t know.” I shrugged. I tried to remember what Jackson looked like when we were kids, but all I could remember was tanned skin and dark hair.

  “Well, I have to be honest,” Carrie said. “You should be nervous. That boy is hot. I don’t mean just Robert Pattinson hot. I mean Zac Efron hot.”

  I rolled my eyes at her. “We’ve had this argument before. Zac Efron is not that hot. He’s so not my type. Bring on someone who looks like Taylor Lautner, though, and I might be interested.”

  “Well, hopefully you’ll be interested in Jackson,” Carrie said.

  “Why?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her. I was actually kind of surprised that she hadn’t already claimed dibs on him, since she thought he was so attractive.

  Carrie’s lips twisted into a wide grin. “Because I invited him to come to the beach with us today.”

  “You did what?!” I asked, dropping the French fry that I was eating onto the basket of food in front of me. “Why?”

  “I want you two to become reacquainted,” Carrie replied, staring at me evenly. When she noticed the frown that had taken over my lips, she explained, “I know you like Tyler right now, but . . . what can I say? I’m a hopeless romantic. If you and Jackson hit it off now—after you crushed on him so hard in elementary school—then maybe it was meant to be all along.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but we’re not going to find out. You can have him all to yourself because I’m going home after lunch.”

  “Oh, come on, Felicia. You’re only going to make me look bad. I already promised him you’d be there. Please?” Carrie pleaded with me, turning her lips into a pout.

  I sighed and threw my napkin on top of the rest of my food, realizing that I had already lost my appetite. “Fine. I’ll see him just so you don’t look like the ass you are. But that’s it. No dates. I like Tyler.”

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Carrie replied, her face lighting up. “I promise you’re not going to regret it.”

  *

  After we paid the bill, Carrie led me out of the restaurant and began walking towards the area of the beach where my lifeguard chair sat.

  “I promised Jackson we would meet him over here,” Carrie explained. She pulled her cell phone out of her tote bag and glanced at the time on the display screen. “We’re a little early. He should be here soon.”

  I felt my stomach do flip flops. I wasn’t sure why I was nervous. It had been years since the last time I’d seen him, and even back then, it had only ever been a lame elementary school crush.

  “Does he even know that he’s seeing me? I mean, I know you said you promised I’d be there, but does he know who I am?” I asked.

  “Of course he does,” Carrie replied, rolling her golden brown eyes. “He can’t wait to see you. You’re not thinking about backing out on this, are you? It would be kinda weird if I just showed up to hang out with him by myself.”

  “Why does having me there make it any less weird?” I asked, kicking up sand with my flip flop.

  Carrie shrugged. “It’s the whole reason we’re doing this. I guess he just wants to see you again.” She glanced over at me and shot me a smirk that told me she was having fun trying to play matchmaker.

  As we spread our towels out on the sand, I glanced around. None of the guys around me looked even close to what I expected Jackson to grow up to look like. I doubted that the tanned-skin, dark-haired little boy who I remembered was the blonde, fair-skinned guy who was lying under an umbrella in front of me—and he also probably wasn’t the guy who was surrounded by a swarm of girls. Not that there was anything to say that Jackson couldn’t be a ladies’ man, but Carrie probably would have called him over to us by now.

  “Are you sure Jackson’s coming?” I asked, turning to look at Carrie, who was now lying on her back with her sunglasses pulled over her eyes.

  “Of course. I could never be late for this,” a deep voice said from behind me. As I turned around and found myself staring into his intense blue eyes, I tried not to let my jaw drop.

  “Hey, Chair Thirteen,” Jackson said with a grin.

  Chapter 8

  “Wait, have you two already seen each other since he’s been back?” Carrie questioned when she noticed the look of recognition in my eyes.

  Neither of us answered her; keeping our eyes trained on each other. Even though I’d heard Carrie’s question, it was as though she wasn’t there right now; it felt like Jackson and I were the only ones on the whole beach.

  “Hey, Felicia,” Jackson said with a wide grin. “Have you missed me?”

  I scoffed. “Have you known it was me this whole time?”

  “Maybe,” Jackson answered with a smirk.

  “Okay, seriously,” I began, feeling the anger rise to my cheeks. “You might think acting all mysterious is cute or something, but it’s really not. And if you really want me to believe that I caught your interest last night, I don’t. Not after this.”

  Jackson stared back at me intently. He opened his mouth and then quickly closed it. Finally, he said, “Who says I’m acting mysterious?”

  “You never answer my questions directly,” I pointed out.

  “You weren’t too direct about this so-called crush I hear about,” Jackson replied with a grin.

  I felt my cheeks reddening. He knew about my crush?

  “Guys, can one of you fill me in on what’s going on?” Carrie asked impatiently.

  I turned to her. “Why don’t you ask him? I’m done here. I’m sorry. I tried to do this for you, but . . . this guy’s a jerk.”

  “Felicia?” Carrie called as I walked away from her and Jackson. “Wait! Don’t leave!”

  I didn’t wait. I walked as briskly as I could until I was back at my Gram’s house, where I quickly closed the door behind me and breathed a sigh of relief.

  My crush on Jackson had probably just been some big joke to him. I wouldn’t doubt it if he had made fun of me for it to every one of his friends at the party last night. Now, our whole sophomore class would follow suit.

  I never let people get a rise out of me, but Jackson had done just that. I don’t know why he pushed my buttons so much—or why I let him.

  *

  That night, I spent a quiet evening at home playing Scrabble and eating popcorn with Gram. I told her more about Tyler, and she said she couldn’t wait to meet him. At Gram’s encouragement, I’d texted him, and he’d agreed to meet her that Saturday night. He’d promised to make dinner for us, which had seemed to impress her.

  Carrie had called and texted me several times . . . and I couldn’t help but ignore her. I knew it wasn’t her fault about what had happened with Jackson, and I wasn’t even mad at her for it. It’s not like she had done anything wrong. But I wasn’t ready to talk about why I had stormed away like a spoiled brat until I had fully collected my thoughts.

  Shortly after I had crawled into bed and pulled my satin comforter over my head, my phone bleeped. Glancing over at it, I found that I had one new text message. It was from Tyler.

  What are you doing?

  Nothing, I texted back, hoping that I didn’t sound as lame as I felt.

  Tyler texted back right away. Do u want to go to the beach with me?

  I hesitated. I didn’t want to miss out on hanging out with Tyler—especially since I hadn’t seen him today—but it was late.

  I have to be up early to lifeguard tomorrow morning. How about tomorrow night? It’s Friday, and I don’t have to go to work until Saturday afternoon, I texted back.

  There was a long pause before my phone bleeped again. O ok. I understand.

  Sorry, I texted back, hoping that Tyler didn’t think I just didn’t want to see him.

  Resting my head against the pillow, I closed my eyes until I eventually drifted off to sleep.

  *

  I found myself standing barefoot on the island agai
n. This time, the sand under my feet was damp with moisture, even though the tide was pretty far out. Wondering if a wave had washed me onto this shore again, I began to walk into the jungle, and this time, I could hear the song loud and clear.

  I wasn’t sure what it was about this song, but its melody captivated me. Glancing around, I tried to figure out where it was coming from. I wanted to know who was singing. Part of me still believed Scarlett was the one whose voice drifted through the trees, sending this lovely, whimsical music to my ears.

  As I walked further into the jungle, I didn’t even think about what sorts of danger may be lurking inside. Sure, there was always that risk that the voice could be dangerous, that something in this forest would pounce on me or slither from a tree branch and coil itself around me before injecting me with its poisonous venom, but I wanted to believe that whoever was singing had good intentions. I got the feeling that they would protect me from any threats or obstacles that might come my way.

  Far off in the distance, I noticed something orange and fluid-like out of the corner of my eye, and I quickly realized that it was a flame. Smoke drifted into the sky, but I could barely see it through the darkness of the night.

  Afraid that I was walking into a wildfire, I panicked. There were lots of trees, which were sure to go up in flames. I supposed that I could just run to the water — assuming that the fire didn’t envelope me before I had the chance.

  I was about to back away and run towards the water, when I heard it. The whispering began a few feet away from me and traveled steadily closer. Crouching behind the tree nearest to me, I listened.

  “What are we going to do now?” a female voice asked. I noted the fear and panic in her voice. “Phorcys isn’t going to be happy about this.”

  “Screw Phorcys,” a second voice said, and this time, I froze. The second voice, which was sweeter than the first, sounded just like Scarlett. I tried to see the girls through the trees, but I couldn’t, and I was afraid that trying to move any closer to them would blow up my spot. I knew I couldn’t get caught eavesdropping because I wasn’t sure what would happen to me if they found out I was listening.