“Here it comes!” yells a voice from behind, and suddenly we’re all scrambling to get ready. The next thing I know, we’re riding a really huge one. I glance to my left to check on Jessie, and she’s just as competent as anyone. She gives me a grin and a thumbs-up, and I’m about to give her one back when wham! I get caught in the curl and am flipped head over heels. The surf spins me around a few times, and I finally emerge sputtering and spewing salt water from my mouth and nose.
“That one really cleaned your clock!” yells Jessie from the shallow water where it appears she rode without any trouble.
I shrug and go retrieve my board.
“Going out again?” she calls.
I nod. “Yeah, sure. I can’t quit while I’m down.”
Fortunately, I manage much better after that. And I enjoy hanging out with Jessie and Wyatt and the other blokes, and I wonder why the rest of the kids at the beach party can’t be this much fun.
Finally I notice the sun is getting low in the sky, and a chill runs down my back. I’m not sure if I’m actually cold or having a flashback to the shark book I just read. But I do know for a fact that evening and early morning are the favored hunting times for those beasts. “You guys ever worry about after darks around here?” I call out.
“What’s that?” asks Jessie.
“It’s Aussie for sharks,” says Wyatt.
Jessie squints up at the sky. “It is getting late. We should probably call it a day.”
So she and I surf one more wave in, and the blokes (showing off their bravery, I’m sure) give it a couple more goes before they start trickling to shore. Wyatt, of course, is the last one, and he rides in a magnificent wave with the red sky behind him. Our small group of surfers, who are huddled together on the beach like spectators, all clap as he emerges from the water and walks toward us, his board balancing on his shoulder.
“Good on ya, mate!” I tell him as he sticks the end of his board into the dry sand.
He grins. “Good on ya too. You were really looking great out there this afternoon, Hannah.”
“Thanks. It’s fun getting back into it. I just wish it wasn’t so expensive to rent this board, or I’d probably do it every — ”
“You rented a board?” asks Wyatt.
“That’s nuts,” adds Jessie. “We’ve got plenty to share. Don’t we, Wyatt?”
“That’s for sure.” He frowns at me. “Don’t waste money renting again.”
“In fact, my old Becker would probably be perfect for you,” says Jessie.
“Truly?”
She laughs. “Yes, truly.’”
“And there’s lots more beaches around here that you should try out,” says Wyatt. “You’ll have to let us show you around.”
“Who are you going to show around?” asks Felicia as she joins our damp and slightly bedraggled group. She looks perfect as usual. And she has changed from her bikini to a strapless white sundress. The only thing around her long, tanned neck is a string of green beads that I assume are expensive, but the amazing thing is how perfectly they match her eyes.
“Hannah,” says Wyatt as he places a hand on my shoulder. “She’s turning into quite the little surfer.”
“Yeah,” says Jessie. “I can’t believe it’s been that long since you were on a board. You looked totally great out there.”
I kind of shrug and feel self-conscious. “Maybe it’s like riding a bike.”
“You want to see that board?” offers Jessie.
“Sure,” I tell her. “I’ve heard Beckers are totally bonza.”
“Bonza!” she repeats. “I love it!”
I force myself not to look back at Wyatt and Felicia as Jessie and I walk up toward the house. I imagine that he’s looking down on her, probably smiling at her absolute perfection. She really is beautiful. But then, looks are only skin-deep.
“Felicia’s jealous of you,” says Jessie in a confidential tone.
“Of me?” I kind of laugh. “You gotta be kidding.”
“No, I’m not. And that means you need to watch out. Felicia can be really possessive of her guys. And right now she thinks Wyatt belongs exclusively to her.”
“But I’m not trying to — ”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter whether you’re trying or not, Hannah. Believe me, I think Wyatt would be far better off with someone like you. But Felicia has her claws into him, and I’m sure she won’t part with him without a fight.”
“A fight?” I turn and look at Jessie, and she just laughs.
“Not an actual kicking and screaming fight. She’s way too cool for that. But trust me, Hannah, she will try to get you if she thinks you’re in her way.”
“You don’t sound like you love your sister much.”
Jessie sighs. “I do love her. I just don’t love what she does. Mostly I’m praying for her — praying that she grows up before it’s too late.”
“You pray?” I don’t know why I find this so shocking. Maybe it’s because I assumed there wasn’t a single Christian down here in Orange County. But then again, I suppose there are other religions that pray too.
She stops by the Esky chest and grabs a soda. “Want one?”
I nod and go for another Mellow Yellow.
“Yeah, I do pray,” she tells me as we go around to a side deck that seems to lead to the garage. “I’ve been a Christian for three years now. I’m the only one in the family. But I’m praying for everyone to get saved by the time I graduate from high school.”
I am not sure whether to admire her or think her a bit whacked. I can’t imagine being the only Christian in my family. “Why then?”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess so I will feel like I can go away to college or whatever without feeling too worried about them.” She pauses to open a door and flick on a light. “The board’s in here.”
“That’s just so weird,” I say as I follow her.
“That the board’s in here?”
“No.” I kind of laugh. “That no one in your family is a Christian, but you are, and you apparently want to be, and that you’re praying for them. It’s just so weird.”
She’s pulling a board down from an overhead rack. “This is it,” she says. “It’s a little beat up. It’s the one I learned on, but it’s really not bad. You want to borrow it for a while?”
I run my hand over the smooth surface. It’s way better than the rental. “I’d love to. Are you sure you’re okay with — ”
“Yeah. I think ol’ Becky’s been wishing someone would take her out again.”
“Well, I’d be happy to accommodate her.”
So we take ol’ Becky out to the Jeep and I put her in the back. “Thanks so much, Jessie. I promise to take good care of it.”
She nods. “Okay, now back to weird. Why do you think it’s so weird that I’m a Christian and my family isn’t? Or that I pray for them?”
“It’s a rather long story,” I admit.
“I’ve got time,” she says as we go back outside and walk around to the back of the house. But for some reason I don’t feel like telling her my story just yet. She is reminding me of Sophie. The tiki torches are burning now, and the music is louder than before. People are starting to eat again, and I suspect by the way some of them are walking and talking that they may have had too much to drink. Jessie and I are standing on the deck just watching them. But the night air is starting to get to me, and I’m starting to shiver.
“It’s not quite as warm here as what I’m used to,” I admit.
“You should get into some dry stuff,” she says. “Why don’t you go get your bag and come inside and clean up?”
“Sounds great.”
This time she shows me to a nicer bathroom upstairs. “There’s shampoo and stuff,” she tells me. “Use whatever you need.”
So I take my time to shower and shampoo the sand and grit from my hair. After seeing Felicia so dressed up, I wish I’d thought to bring something besides beach clothes. All I have are a pair of red Tommy shorts an
d a striped tank top. But they’ll have to do. I fluff my hair up a bit, then put on some lip gloss and mascara. It’s not much, but it’s more than I would normally do. And really, I don’t look so bad, I tell myself as I peer into the slightly fogged-up mirror.
I go downstairs and take my beach bag out to the Jeep where it occurs to me that I’ve already missed the deadline for returning the rental board, which means I’ll have to pay an extra ten bucks if I get it back by nine tomorrow morning. No worries, I tell myself. At least I won’t be wasting money on a rental board again. Even so, I go back down to the beach to retrieve it and put it safely away.
“You’re not leaving, are you?” calls Wyatt when he spots me from the deck. “The party’s just beginning.”
I wave at him. “Just putting my board away.”
“Come back and have some food,” he says. “These salmon wraps are awesome!”
I can see Felicia standing just a few feet from him, and I can tell she is giving me that look. I’d call it narrowed eyes, but she’s too clever to let that much expression show on her pretty face. Maybe it’s not so much a look as a feeling, but I know that it’s real. And I know that Jessie’s warning was sincere. But suddenly I’m thinking, Fine, if Felicia wants to fight, bring it on.
“Hey,” calls Jessie as I come back to the house. “I thought maybe you’d left.”
“No chance,” I tell her. “Wyatt said there are some awesome salmon wraps out there. Whatever a wrap is.”
She explains that they’re just little rolled-up sandwiches. “No big deal.”
“There’s room down here,” calls Wyatt, waving to the two of us. “Come on down, surfer girls.”
So we go down to the table where Wyatt and Felicia have been sitting by themselves. And I can tell that our company is not welcomed by Felicia. Even so, the rest of us are soon yabbering about the waves and the surf and the last time a shark was spotted in these waters. And then Wyatt starts talking about this girl who got attacked by a shark in Hawaii. “Just snapped off her arm,” he says. “Totally took off with it.”
“No way,” I say, astounded.
“Didn’t you hear about it?” asks Jessie. “It was on the news everywhere.”
“Not in New Guinea.”
“But that’s not the end of the story,” says Wyatt. “This girl was really into surfing, and as soon as she recovered she went back out.”
“That’s a brave girl,” I say, wondering if I’d be that brave.
“Not only did she go back out,” says Jessie, “but she won some surfing championship, like about three months later.”
“Amazing!” I say.
“Yes, isn’t it?” says Felicia, but I can tell she’s being sarcastic.
Jessie gives me a glance that I suspect means “I told you so.” But I just smile. “Do you ever surf, Felicia?”
“Oh, I used to, back when I was little and there wasn’t much else to do. It was a way to beat the boredom.”
I nod. “How do you beat the boredom now?”
She looks at me and blinks. “What?”
“What keeps you from being bored now?”
She kind of laughs, like she’s indulging a dimwit. “Oh, there’s lots to do now. I mean, I have my own car and I can go wherever I want and — ”
“Where do you like to go?”
“Oh, lots of places. There’s Laguna — ”
“What do you do in Laguna?” I say quickly. “Isn’t that a surfing area?”
“Well, yes, but it’s more than just a beach. There’s lots to do.”
“Like what?” I ask innocently.
“Well, the shops for instance. There are lots of great shops down there.”
I nod. “So you spend a lot of time shopping?”
“Well, not a lot of time . . .”
“Ha!” says Jessie. “Shopping is Felicia’s favorite pastime.”
“That’s right,” chimes in Wyatt. “And the stores just love to see her coming too. They actually know her by name.”
“Oh, Wyatt,” she says, all charm. “That’s not really true.” Then she waves over to where some new people are coming out onto the deck. “Hey, Shelby and Blake!” she calls. “Come on over here. I want you to meet my boyfriend.” And suddenly she’s standing, and a very sophisticated-looking couple is being introduced, and it’s as if Jessie and I have been excused.
“The children’s hour is over,” whispers Jessie as we go find another place to sit.
“That’s fine by me. I think I’ve had enough for one night.”
“So you see what I mean then? About the way Felicia fights?”
“Was that round one?”
“I think so. And even though you were doing pretty well, I don’t think you won. I don’t even think it’s over.”
I shrug and pick up another salmon wrap. “It’s over for me.”
Jessie just laughs. “You want to come back here tomorrow to surf again?”
“Really?” I ask.
“Yeah. I thought I’d come after church and hang out here. It’s fairly quiet on Sundays since my dad usually takes the boat out.”
“That’s right,” I say. “I heard you guys have this awesome sailboat. Why don’t you go out with him?”
“He leaves too early. I’d miss church.”
Now this really throws me for a loop. “You give up sailing to go to church?” I ask.
“Of course.” Then she smiles. “But it’s not like I don’t believe you can have fun on Sundays. And I sure wouldn’t mind catching a few more waves.”
So it’s arranged. We’ll meet here around noon. Even so, I can’t quite figure this girl out. And as I look around this party that’s being hosted at her parents’ house and notice the easy flow of alcohol, I can’t help but wonder how this makes her feel.
“It seems funny that you’d want to come to this party,” I finally say.
“Why’s that?”
“Well, with you being a Christian and everyone drinking and all. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Yeah, I used to feel like that. But then I realized that first, not everyone is drinking, and second, maybe Jesus can use me being here. Like I’ll have a conversation with someone, and they’ll end up coming to church with me and getting saved.” She smiles. “That’s pretty cool. And besides that, I guess I feel kind of responsible since this is my family’s property, and I’m personally quite fond of this house. I don’t want to see things getting out of hand.” She leans in as if to tell a secret. “I had to call the police once to get them to empty the place out when a couple of guys started acting like complete morons.”
“So you’re a bit like security?”
She laughs. “I guess you could say that.”
I glance around the decks and beach, curious as to whether anything is going to get out of hand tonight, but the crowd, though boisterous, seems rather calm. And some couples, including Wyatt and Felicia, are actually starting to dance. I try not to look like I’m staring, but I can’t help but watch as the two of them cling to each other. It all looks very romantic, and I have a feeling that Jessie is right. Felicia has won round one.
So I tell Jessie good night, then find Vanessa and Bryce, kissing as it turns out, and with some embarrassment I tell them that I’m going home.
“But the night is still young,” says Bryce as he adjusts his glasses, which I reckon are all steamed up.
“Maybe for some,” I say as I wave and walk away. But not for me.
fourteen
“YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE THIS,” SAYS JESSIE AS SOON AS I SHOW up at the beach house. She’s just parked her car, a sporty little red thing, in the driveway, and she’s dressed nicely, as if she’s just come from church.
“What?” I ask as I unload my (rather, her) board.
“Wyatt and Felicia got into a really big fight.”
“For real?” I lean the board against the Jeep and wait. “When?”
“Last night. After you left. And do you know what they were fi
ghting about?”
I shrug.
“You!”
Now, this makes me laugh. “Me? Seriously?”
She nods. “Go ahead and take the board around back, and I’ll unlock the house. I’m sure it’s still a big mess.”
As I take the board around back, I can see that it is indeed a big mess. An even bigger mess than when I left. I drop the board in the sand, then head up the deck, gathering paper plates and cups as I go and tossing them into one of the large rubbish bins that had obviously gone unobserved.
“Don’t worry about that,” she says as she opens the back door to let me in. “That’s Felicia’s responsibility.”
“Does she clean it up?”
Jessie laughs. “Yeah, you bet. No, she has some people come in. Later today, I think.”
“Where is she now?” I ask, glancing nervously around the house just in case she’s lurking somewhere, ready to pounce on me and knock me flat.
“She’s sailing with Daddy.”
I nod and wonder why the emphasis on daddy. Jessie is rummaging through the fridge and finally pulls out a plate of cold cuts and cheese, I’m guessing salvaged from last night. She then finds a box of crackers and sets these on the bar between us. “Want a soda?”
“Sure.”
“As I mentioned before, it’s their Sunday thing . . . sailing.” She wrestles a couple cans of soda from a box, then sets them on the bar. “Sprite okay?”
“Great.”
“Felicia, as you may have guessed, is Daddy’s favorite. In his eyes, she can do no wrong. I, on the other hand, am a complete disappointment.”
“How’s that?”
“Mostly because of religion. He sees my Christian beliefs as a direct challenge to his own ways of thinking and living. Plus he always assumes that I don’t respect him.”
“Do you?”
She seems to consider this. “I respect him as my father. But I guess I don’t really respect his views or values. I honestly think money is his god. Well, that and beautiful women. He’s on his fourth wife now.”
“Where’s your mother?”
“She died about ten years ago. And in Daddy’s defense, he did stay with her until she died. But he was married within the year.” She puts a piece of cheese on a cracker. “A wannabe actress named Holly. Then there was Krista. She had been a ‘lingerie model,’ which I think was just another word for stripper. Now he’s married to number four, Carrie. She’s actually the best one of the bunch in some ways. But I know for a fact she wouldn’t have married my dad if he hadn’t been rich. And of course, he never would’ve married her if she hadn’t been beautiful. That’s how it works in my family. Beauty and money — the perfect combination. But neither of those interests me much.”
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