Sunrise

by Melissa J Morgan

  They stood up together, toes in the sand. Tori had a crazy-serious look on her face. “I don’t know, Cass. I don’t know if you could handle it.”

  “I can handle it!” Cassie protested.

  Tori was shaking her head, but she finally relented. “Fine, I’ll tell you—but only because you’re my flesh and blood.” She paused, taking a breath. Micah was paddling out for a wave now. Cassie’s focus was split—half on Micah, half on the wisdom Tori was about to impart to her. It was some L.A. thing, probably. Something the celebrities did instead of normal flirting. Still, Cassie was dying to know what it was.

  “Are you ready?” Tori said.

  Cassie nodded solemnly.

  “Okay, when he’s done with this contest you go over to him. You tap him on the shoulder. He turns around. You open your mouth, and”—Tori paused, drawing it out—“you tell him you like him.”

  Cassie shook her head in confusion. “That’s it?”

  Tori burst out laughing. “Yeah, what did you think I was gonna say? Bite him like a vampire?”

  Cassie shook her head at Tori’s ridiculousness. She should have known it was all a joke. Then she watched Micah catch his first wave. And his next. She watched him surf with the passion she used to have. It made her like him even more, seeing that in him. And when he was clearly the winner of his heat, she felt truly happy for him. Just beamingly happy. Like, even if she followed Tori’s advice and walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder and burst out with the fact that she was a dope and sorry-sorry-sorry, oh, and btw, I, like, totally like you and he laughed in her face and said he wasn’t interested, even then?

  Even then she’d still be happy for him. He deserved it.

  The rest of the water-sports expo was—shockingly—a blast. Cassie found herself able to relax, and even Tori began to get into it (though she still had her swimming levels to conquer; Cassie reminded herself to deal with that next week). Cassie even saw that little camper Abby try an event in the expo—she skidded belly down on her wakeboard for a long minute, laughing the whole time. She definitely seemed more comfortable in the water. Cassie also saw other C.I.T.s and junior counselors and counselors she knew taking part in the expo, everyone seeming to be having so much fun, like that was the point of the whole thing in the first place. Huh. Maybe it was.

  Then it was time for the winners of the surf contest to be officially announced. Cassie had predicted the outcome exactly: Danica snagged the top prize for the girls’ contest, and Micah the boys’. Cassie and the other C.I.T.s crowded around the winners as the prize was finally revealed. Cassie found herself beside Andi, who had taken part in three events in the expo—windsurfing, wakeboarding, and surfing. “You did great,” Cassie said. “I was watching you out there.”

  “It was fun,” Andi said. “But you—” She paused awkwardly. “When you’re ready to surf again, I know you’ll rock.”

  “Thanks, Andi,” Cassie said quietly. She was about to say something else, like she hoped Andi wouldn’t think any less of her now, because she was really hoping they could be friends, but before she could get the words out Simona made the grand announcement everyone had been waiting for:

  Danica and Micah, as the two winners, would be representing Camp Ohana in the inter-camp surfing competition in Oahu! The contest was sooner than anyone realized—they’d be leaving in just a few days for an overnight trip to Oahu island.

  “That is so not fair!” Andi shrieked. “I bet they’re putting them up in a superfancy hotel. Do you know how much I miss real sheets?”

  Cassie didn’t get a chance to respond. Tori was running up, her cheeks flushed. Cassie just assumed she was excited. She grabbed Cassie’s hand and held it. “Ohmygod areyouokay?” Tori said in a rush.

  “Yeah,” Cassie said. “Why?”

  Tori’s eyes were bugging out of her head. “What do you mean?” she hissed. She pulled Cassie away. “Cass,” she continued, “they’re going away together—to a hotel.”

  Cassie nodded. Then it hit her. It just hit. She had to tell Micah she had feelings for him very, very soon—if he and Danica weren’t already back together, they surely would be by the end of this trip. She had to say something now, or it would be too late.

  Eleven

  Danica was packing for Oahu and Sierra and Sasha were helping her, as usual. Actually, Danica was just lounging on her bed in the C.I.T. bunk while they were doing all the work sorting through her clothes and swimsuits, holding up options for her to say yea or nay to. She was supposed to be ready to catch the hopper plane in about an hour.

  “Sure,” she said in approval to the emerald green Three Dots tank top Sierra held up.

  “No way, are you an idiot?” she said to a mustard-yellow American Apparel T-shirt dress that was so last summer she had no clue how it had slipped into her suitcase in the first place.

  “Sorry,” Sasha said quickly. She kicked the offending item under her bed.

  “So,” Sierra said loudly, “you think you and Micah will get to hang out alone at the hotel?”

  “Of course not!” Danica said. “You know the counselors are going to be chaperoning us the whole time! They’d never let us go otherwise. I’m sharing a room with Haydee.”

  Sasha wrinkled her nose. “That sucks,” she said. “How are you gonna get him alone with Haydee watching all the time? Bummer.”

  “Well, there’s always Zeke,” Sierra said. “He lives on another planet . . . he won’t notice anything. So just sneak off to Micah’s room.”

  “True,” Sasha said. “Right, Danica?”

  Right, Danica thought. But she didn’t say it out loud.

  Actually, she wanted Sasha and Sierra to lower their voices—Cassie was across the bunk on her bed with her cousin, Tori. After the weird are-you-into-Micah moment outside Simona’s office, Danica wanted to keep her Micah plans on the down-low, at least until she landed at the hotel suite and figured out a way to get his attention.

  Cassie had obviously caught wind of the conversation because she was looking over. But she stayed in place on her bed, a coward.

  No wait. Something else is going on. It had taken Danica a while, but she just noticed that second how Cassie and Tori weren’t sitting on the other side of the bunk chatting about the usual boring junk that made Danica’s eyes water. No, in fact, it looked like Tori was crying, and Cassie was now pulling her in for a hug.

  Danica sat up. “What happened?” she called across the bunk toward Tori and Cassie. “Tori, you’re not that upset your cousin made a total fool of herself at the expo, are you?”

  Tori and Cassie both looked at her in surprise. Tori was actually crying—she had streaks of tears all down her face. Trés unflattering. Cassie’s face darkened for a moment, but she held in any response.

  “That’s not why I’m upset,” Tori said. “It’s Eddie.”

  “Eddie who?” Danica said.

  “Eddie,” Cassie said, like now Danica was the idiot. “Her boyfriend.”

  “Oh,” Danica breathed. “He dumped you.” Normally she’d be all interested in the dirt, but this was camper dirt, not C.I.T. or counselor dirt, so naturally it was not interesting enough to get up off the bed and go over and ask for details. Tori was only fourteen, after all—a baby. Whoever this Eddie kid was, surely Danica wouldn’t care one way or the other if he was single.

  “He didn’t dump her,” Cassie said. “Actually, like I was saying, Tor, you said you guys didn’t have much to talk about, that he was boring, right? So it’s better this way.”

  Tori nodded. “It is,” she agreed. “It was totally mutual,” she added through a honk and a sniffle into a wad of tissues.

  Now this is getting disgusting, Danica thought. “Then why are you crying?” she said, beyond perplexed. When she’d let go of Micah at the end of last summer it had been like a shrug, like, See ya! Wouldn’t want to be ya!

  In hindsight, that had been a huge mistake. But she hadn’t cried then, and she wasn’t crying now. Thankfully,
she was going on this trip away to Oahu where she would have a chance to fix it. Losing interest in Tori’s so-called love life, she turned back to Sierra and Sasha, who were always rapt in attention whenever she wanted (or pretended to want) their advice.

  “What outfit do you think will help me get Micah back?” she said. “The Lacoste or the Calvin Klein?” She said it like she was sure of the outcome, no matter the outfit, but in fact she wasn’t too sure. Not sure at all.

  Sierra and Sasha couldn’t decide. “They’re both good,” Sierra said.

  “Either way, he’ll take you back for sure,” Sasha said.

  “Like, totally for sure,” Sierra added.

  I hope so, Danica thought but didn’t say.

  Instead, she stood up all confidently and held the Lacoste outfit against her body, checking herself out in the mirror. In the reflection she caught sight of Cassie—she’d gotten off her bed, slipped on her flip-flops, and was flying out the door. Like she suddenly decided she had something to do.

  But what? Danica thought. She turned and found Tori still on Cassie’s bed, still feeling sorry for herself, obviously. But she’d stopped crying at least. She looked like she knew something Danica didn’t.

  “Where’d Cassie just go?” Danica called over to Tori.

  “Out,” Tori said.

  Danica didn’t trust her one bit. “For what?” she said.

  Tori stretched out on Cassie’s bed, just making herself at home in the bunk like she was a C.I.T. and not a camper. Danica made a mental note to put the kid in her place when she returned from Oahu. “I’m thirsty,” Tori said. “Cassie went to get me something to drink.” She sat up then, her eyes hard and fast on Danica. “I’m dying for a soda.”

  Cassie was not headed to the canteen for a soda. She was on her way across the sand to the humuhumunukunukuapua’a bunk—to look for Micah.

  Hearing Danica say that she was going to try to get Micah back gave her a jolt of motivation. She was full of courage, all ready to get it out in the open. Tori had said that if she liked Micah, she should just tell him, and that’s what she was going to do. Tell him.

  It sounded simple—but witnessing Tori all broken up over what happened between her and Eddie (though she kept saying it had been 100 percent mutual and no big), Cassie wondered if having a boyfriend was truly worth it.

  What if it doesn’t work out? she thought. Fact is, it might not work out. Micah could laugh in her face. He could tell her she was a snob and he had no interest in her. He could say he wanted to be with a real surfer, not a girl who went around saying she was pro but couldn’t even stand up on her own two feet on her board. He could say he liked Danica. He could say any number of things—the possibilities were endless, and endlessly frightening.

  And what if he said what she wanted him to say? What if he said he liked her, too, what then?

  They could get together and be having the time of their lives and then out of nowhere, something could go sour between them, something uncontrollable, something that made no sense. And then what?

  Then it would hurt like nothing Cassie had ever experienced before. She wouldn’t know what to do. What if that happened? What if, what if.

  Just as she stood there, on the lanai of the humuhumunukunukuapua’a bunk, about to knock and see if she could come in, the door opened. And he was on the other side, facing her, just inches away. He was carrying a duffel bag—obviously ready to leave for his trip.

  “Hey,” she said.

  “Hey,” he said.

  Her stomach dropped. He was still mad at her over how bratty she’d acted at the beach. He had every right to be mad. She’d never explained. She never even said she was sorry. Or, worse, he didn’t even want to be seen with her after witnessing her run out on the surfing contest. Who would?!

  She was thinking, This is it. He says hey, I say hey, and he leaves on his trip and I never tell him the truth and I regret it forever and ever.

  But before she could wallow in this, he surprised her. He smiled, the smile that sent her stomach leaping till she felt like she would tip over. “I think you’ve got the wrong bunk,” he said. “This is B-16, not G-16. Don’t you see the door?” He pointed at the peeling, barely readable B-16 painted on the bunk’s door.

  She laughed, and smiled back. “No, I’m not lost,” she said. “Think we could talk for a second? There’s some stuff I want to say.”

  Micah led Cassie to the stand of hammocks between the two C.I.T. bunks. Usually, on a Sunday, the C.I.T.s’ day off, someone was lying in one of them, trying to escape from the chaos that was Ohana, but Micah and Cassie had come at a good moment. They were alone.

  “Congratulations,” Cassie burst out. “You were intense out there. I was impressed.”

  “Yeah?” he said, trying to keep all expression off his face. Truth is he’d wanted to impress her. He’d wanted her to see he was serious about surfing, serious like she was. It was stupid, he knew, to care what a girl thought, but he did.

  “Definitely,” she said. She sat in one of the hammocks, swinging there idly. A few long seconds passed between them. “Definitely,” she repeated.

  That’s all she wanted to tell me, he realized. He was embarrassed to admit to himself that he’d thought it might be something else.

  “I’m sorry you weren’t ready to surf,” he said. “But, you know, you’re ready when you’re ready.” This was coming out all mangled. He tried again. “I mean, everyone gets it. I get it.” What he wanted her to know was that he was there for her, if she ever felt like talking about it, but she was making him nervous and he decided to stop talking.

  She seemed to catch his good intentions, though, because her cheeks flushed a little and she said, “Thanks.”

  “Sure,” he said.

  The awkward silence expanded, making it impossible for him to say anything else. He figured he should just get up to go. The van was waiting . . .

  Then Cassie spoke again, and this time in a rush. “I also wanted to say I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry for how I acted at the beach last week, how awful I was, and I was just scared, you know? I was just scared and I didn’t want to tell you. I mean, obviously I was scared—look at what happened—and maybe if I talked to you about it first, I, oh I don’t know.”

  “I know,” he said. He was looking into her eyes, these huge blue eyes, the kind of blue you’d expect her to have, the color of the water. He was having a problem looking away from those eyes. “I’m not mad,” he added. “I was just confused.”

  “About what?” she said.

  Now he sat in one of the hammocks. He needed something to do with himself while he talked, so he kicked off and started swinging. “About what was going on, you know, between us.”

  Her blue eyes were locked with his, even as he kept swinging.

  “If there was anything going on between us,” he added lamely.

  She spoke up. “I think maybe there was,” she said. “I was hoping there was.”

  “You were?”

  “I was wondering, like, Is this a date? That’s what I kept thinking, but—” She bowed her head, her cheeks flaming up.

  “Stupid idea for a date,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

  “Wait, was it a date?” she asked in a low voice.

  They were too far away to have this conversation. He got up off his hammock and crossed the swath of sand to hers. He sat beside her and as he did the hammock sunk down toward the ground, but still it held the both of them. “I thought it was,” he said.

  She just smiled.

  “Was that the right answer?” he said.

  “Yeah,” she said. “Most definitely yeah.”

  Then they sat there, close together, not saying anything for the longest time. Micah didn’t want to break the silence this time, though he knew he had to get to the van soon to catch the ride to the airport. Still, he reached out his arm and put it around her. She looked at him, and he looked at her, and—you know what?—he was about to have his dreams come tr
ue and compete in a real surfing contest, but all he wanted was to sit here with Cassie a little longer before that happened. He didn’t want to leave.

  Cassie was at the van, saying good-bye to Micah. He’d be away only two nights. Two nights, that’s it! They could talk about whatever mysterious something was happening between them when he got back. She could handle two nights of not-knowing-for-sure. Two nights were nothing.

  He stowed his duffel bag and surfboard in the back of the van and jumped down.

  “So,” he said.

  “So,” she replied. She was always repeating whatever he said back to him.

  There were too many people around to have a real conversation, so she figured they’d leave it at that.

  Then he shocked her by leaning down toward her. His face was getting closer and closer to hers—like, seriously, six inches away, then four, then two, then his lips were about to land on hers. This was the moment when he’d kiss her, out here in the open where anybody walking by could see. She was so sure it was happening, really and truly happening, that she closed her eyes and just let it happen.

  It would be bliss.

  Except not.

  The kiss-to-be never ended up catching her. Someone had called his name, and the face that had almost been up close and personal with hers never got there. Cassie opened her eyes and saw Danica running up. “Can you help me with my board?” she called to Micah.

  “Uh, yeah,” he said awkwardly, and went to her.

  Cassie stood there, dazed. Did anyone see that he was about to kiss me? she thought. I hope I didn’t imagine it.

  But after everyone said their good-byes and Micah and Danica and the surf counselors and junior counselors who were escorting them on the trip all got in the van to leave, Cassie was dead sure she had not been making it up. Micah waved, but that wasn’t what convinced her. It was the look on Danica’s face. Cold. Hard. Ready to kill.