by McKayla Box
“Holy shit!” Derek says. “You fucking did it! No one ever does it!” He wraps his arms around me and swings me around. “That was fucking amazing!”
I'm shivering and laughing and my body feels like jelly.
“Holy shit!” Bridget says, bounding toward me. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Derek sets me down and he's shaking his head. People are swarming around me. My feet hurt from the cold water.
“Are you okay?” Bridget asks, putting her hands on my shoulders. “Are you alright?”
I fold my arms around myself, but nod my head. Someone throws a towel around me, but I'm still shivering.
Maddie and Gina tag team me in a hug, squealing in my ear. I laugh and still feel my heart thumping hard against my chest.
“That was insane,” Derek says, shaking his head. “Just insane. I didn't think anyone would ever do it.”
My teeth are chattering and I start looking around, trying to spot Trevor. I scan the water, but there's no one beyond where we're standing. I don't see his face in the crowd around me. I'm up on my tiptoes, trying to look over the heads of everyone congratulating me.
I lean into Bridget's ear, pulling the towel tighter around me. “Do you see Trevor?”
She shakes her head and puts her mouth next to my ear. “He came up behind you and disappeared. No clue where he went.”
People are shouting in my ears and I'm trying to smile, but I'm still looking around, trying to find him. It takes me a few minutes to realize the truth.
Trevor is gone.
TWENTY ONE
It's Monday morning and I still haven't seen Trevor.
I don't remember what time I got home from the beach but it was late enough that my father asked me on Sunday afternoon when I finally got out of bed what time I got home. I told him it was around two, but I don't know if that's true or not. We stayed on the beach for awhile and I downed more rum to warm myself up and to sting the pain of having been left by Trevor after our jump. I recalled getting out of Maddie's car and collapsing into bed, still in my damp swimsuit, then passing out until the next afternoon. I spent most of Sunday on the couch, nursing the hangover and answering texts and Snaps congratulating me on my jump.
But I haven't heard from or seen Trevor.
I'm lingering at my locker after getting my ride from Bridget, taking my time, waiting to see if he shows up. I'm closing the door and pulling the backpack over my shoulder when I finally see him.
And he has his arm around a girl I've never seen before.
She has long black hair and boobs spilling out of a tank top the same color. The tank top rides up above the waist of her tiny red shorts and her arm is looped around Trevor's waist. She's wearing too much makeup, but I can't exactly call her ugly.
Brett and Jake are trailing behind them, the usual air of arrogance and violence swimming around them. Trevor sees me and the corner of his mouth flickers for just a moment. Then he turns the corner with the girl and he's gone. Brett follows him, but Jake hangs back and then heads in my direction.
“What's up?” he says, an amused smile on his face. “Like what you see?”
“No,” I say, then regret it. “I mean, I don't care.”
“No takebacks,” he says, grinning. “Didn't think you'd like it very much.”
“Who is she?” I ask.
Jake shrugs. “Just some girl he's banging now.”
I hate that the words sting me, but they do.
“What you did was shitty,” he says.
“What I did? What are you talking about?”
He makes a face like I'm insulting him. “You think he would've taken anyone up on that pier with him? He'd been planning to do that alone for, like, a year. Then he takes you up there and it's like you don't even give a shit.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, completely bewildered. “I couldn't even find him afterward. I tried to find him but he was gone.”
“Sure you did,” Jake says. “Probably hard to find him when you were wrapped up with that big fucking jockstrap Morgan.”
I start to tell him I don't know what he's talking about, then catch myself. When I came out of the water, Derek had been the first one there. He'd hugged me.
“I wasn't wrapped up with him,” I say.
Jake rolls his eyes. “Right. I think we all saw you hug him when you got to the beach. Come on. At least come up with something better than that.”
“I didn't hug him,” I say, shaking my head. “He was...he was just there.”
“Save it,” he says, holding up a hand. “Just save it. You had your shot with Trev, but you blew it.” He pauses. “And you're gonna regret it. Opportunity of a lifetime and you just tossed it in the garbage can.” He shakes his head. “Not sure what he was even thinking.” He starts backing up. “For a douchebag like Morgan. Unbelievable.” He shakes his head, turns around, and disappears down the hallway.
The first bell rings and people pick up their pace, but I'm standing there, bewildered. I hadn't sought out Derek or even hugged him. He'd been waiting there for me, like a million other people. He'd hugged me, but so had Bridget and Maddie and Gina and other people I couldn't name. But Trevor had ditched me because Derek was there – like everyone else – to congratulate me for something that Trevor made me do?
I shook my head and started walking.
That was utter and complete bullshit.
TWENTY TWO
I feel Shanna's eyes on me for most of last period, but I stare straight ahead, not wanting to engage. I've pretty much refused to engage the whole day, begging off from lunch with the girls, telling them I didn't feel great, and hiding in the computer lab. People were looking at me again and a few even gave me a thumbs up or told me it was cool to see me jump, but for the most part, I've kept my head down and kept to myself.
So I wasn't looking for a fight with Shanna.
The bell rings and I get up right away, my backpack already together. I sling it over my shoulder and hit the door before anyone else in the class.
“Presley!” Shanna says behind me. “Hey! Wait up!”
I ignore her and keep walking as people start spilling out into the hallway.
“Hey!” she says, coming up next to me, slowing her jog to a walk. “Can you hold up for a second?”
“Not interested,” I say. “I'm so not interested in whatever you have to say.”
“I wanted to congratulate you,” she says.
“Sure,” I say.
She touches my arm and I stop, jerking my arm away.
She steps back. “Sorry. But I'm serious. I was coming to congratulate you.”
I watch her, wary.
“I couldn't believe you jumped,” she says. “Seriously. I would've passed out up there, so I don't know how you did it. I'm not sure what Trevor said to you that made you--”
“Nothing,” I say, cutting her off. “He didn't say anything to me.”
She eyes me for a moment, then nods. “Okay, cool. I just...look, I know I've been kind of a bitch to you, but I just wanted to tell you that I thought what you did was badass. Not trying to be your best friend, but it was pretty cool.” She shrugs. “So. That's it.”
I wait, thinking there's more. But she doesn't say anything else.
“You know that no one's done that in, like, a decade, right?” she says. “I have an older brother and the last person to do it was in his class.” She pauses. “And do you know what happened to him?”
“He drowned,” I say.
She nods. “Yeah. It was horrible. I mean, I don't remember it, but the way my brother talks about it, it sounds awful. So I can't believe anyone would do it again. Trevor, he's crazy, so I guess it's not a total shock that he did it.” She chews on her bottom lip for a moment. “But I never would've thought anyone else would've tried that.”
“Yeah,” I say, unsure what else to tell her.
“I saw Trevor with Holly today,” she says.
I shrug.
“I sort of thought you guys were together or something after you guys did that,” she says. “So I was surprised.”
I start walking again. “That makes two of us.”
“Oh,” she says, staying alongside me. “Shit. Sorry. I didn't mean anything by it.”
I'm not sure if she's telling the truth or not, but I'm not looking for another argument. “It's fine.”
“She's a junior,” she tells me. “Holly Nichols. Major bitch.”
“What a shock.”
“She tried out for cheerleading last year,” Shanna says. “She got cut and her parents freaked. I mean, she is gorgeous, so she does have that going for her. But she danced like an ape on crack.”
For the first time all day, I laugh. Really laugh. And I can't believe it's Shanna that's the person who broke me.
She laughs, too. “I'm serious. I think I have video somewhere. I'll have to show you sometime.”
I'm not sure I really need to see it, but I say “Cool.”
“I shouldn't have dumped that drink on you,” she says. “At The Hut.”
I glance at her. “I probably shouldn't have covered you in rum and Coke.”
“Are we calling a truce?” she asks.
“There's no war for me,” I tell her. “But sure.”
She nods and we keep walking.
“I'm sure he's just jerking her around,” she says. “Trevor. If he's mad at you.”
We push through the doors to the parking lot.
“Why would he do that?” I say.
“Because it's what he does,” she says. “He's kind of a spoiled brat. He's used to getting his way, no matter what it is he wants. If he's mad at you, then he's probably using her to piss you off. So you'll go to him and, like, apologize.”
“I didn't do anything wrong,” I tell her. “I don't have anything to apologize for.”
She digs around in her purse until she pulls out a set of keys and mirrored sunglasses. “I'm not saying you did. But if he's decided that you owe him an apology? Then that's the game he's gonna play. And toting around some skank like Holly is his first move to make it happen.”
“I'm not apologizing,” I tell her. “Ever. Because I didn't do anything.”
Shanna wiggles the sunglasses by the arm, studying me. “He's not used to that. Girls walking away from him. I don't ever remember it, even in middle school. Trevor gets what Trevor wants. Girls fall all over themselves to get with him. And even when he kicks them to the curb, they still try to get back in his good graces.”
“Not me,” I say, shaking my head. “That is not gonna happen with me.”
She puts the sunglasses on and smiles at me. “We shall see.”
TWENTY THREE
Bridget drops me at home, sensing that I don't really want to talk. She gives me a hug before I get out and tells me to text or call if I want to talk. I tell her thanks and go inside.
I toss my backpack on the floor of my room and immediately change into my bikini and pull my rash guard on over my top. I find my flips and slide them on my feet, then walk out to the garage. My longboard is propped up against the far wall, next to my bike, and I run my hand across the surface. It's still pretty tacky and I decide it'll be fine without a wax. I maneuver the big board under my arm and open the garage door. I lay the board on the grass, walk my bike out and lay it down next to the board, then go back and punch in the garage code next to the door. The door drops down, I gather the board under my arm again, get myself on the bike, and wobble out of the driveway, heading for the beach.
The ride to the beach is easy and the sun and the wind feel good after a day inside school. I know that I'm wound super tight and the best way for me to unwind is to be on the water. It's been too many days since I've surfed and I remind myself that, now that I live so close, I can go anytime I want.
I park my bike in the rack near the lifeguard shack, lock it up, and head down the sand. The wind off the water is light and the waves look pretty good. I kick off my flips, stack them on top of one another, then walk down to the water's edge. The water feels warmer than the night I jumped off the pier and I shuffle my feet in it as I walk in. I drop the board onto the water and fasten the velcro leash around my ankle. I slide the board further out across the water until it's deep enough for me to lay down on top of it and I start paddling out to the break.
I stay outside of the lineup, the guys already out on their boards, waiting for waves. There's a certain set of rules that I have to abide by and I'm still too new to the area to be accepted into the group of locals who are patrolling the waves. I steer well clear of them and find an open spot in the water. The break isn't great, but there's enough for me to get up on the board and ride.
I'm good enough at surfing, but I'm not great. I can pop up, I can take the board down the face of a wave, and I can maneuver in any direction I want to go. I can't do fancy cut backs or floaters, but I'm not aiming for that, either. I'd like to get better, but I ride because it makes everything else fall away. Gliding across the water is the most freeing feeling I've ever experienced and I can't get enough of it.
That's what I'm feeling when I see two guys peel out of the lineup and paddle in my direction. At first, I think they are coming over to get a feel for me, to find out where I live, and to make sure I know what I'm doing. But then I realize it's Brett and Jake making their way through the water and I know they aren't coming for those reasons.
Brett gets within five feet of me and sits up, straddling his board. “Water's closed. Take off.”
“Water can't be closed,” I say, pointing at the lifeguard tower. “That's not a thing.”
Jake glides to a stop in front of me, blocking my path, and sits up the same way Brett does. “He's right. Water's closed.”
I look at both of them. “This what he does to you guys? Send you to run his errands for him?”
“The water is closed,” Brett says again. “Go try somewhere else. You aren't surfing here.”
“You don't own the water,” I tell him.
Jake laughs. “Really? We don't?”
There is menace in his words. I look at the lifeguard tower. It's shuttered for the day. There are people scattered on the beach that might react if I start yelling. I know that the other guys in the lineup probably won't do a thing.
So I'm sort of trapped on the water.
“No, you don't,” I say. “Get out of my way.”
He smiles. “Make me.”
“You're fucking up,” Brett warns me.
“How's that?”
“Because you are,” he says, letting his fingers play with the water. “Because you're throwing everything in Trevor's face.”
“I'm not throwing anything in his face,” I say. “It's not my fault if he's a giant baby.”
“Get off the board,” Brett says.”
“Fuck you.”
“You wish,” he says. “But I wouldn't touch you now. Get off the board. Now.”
I pivot the board in the water and start paddling away from the them, parallel to the beach. Brett laughs and says “Go do it.”
I glance behind me and see Jake paddling hard behind me. I know I can't out paddle him. He's bigger and stronger and his arms rip through the water, closing the distance between us. He reaches for my foot and I kick hard out at him, but he wraps his hand around my ankle and I can't shake it loose. I'm not sure what he plans to do, but I have a momentary flash of him pulling me under the water and keeping me there until I die.
Instead, I see a flash of metal across the water and a knife in his hand. He yanks hard on my foot and I roll off of my board, thrashing in the water, trying to get loose. The knife slashes through the water and panic boils up inside of me.
But then he lets go of my ankle and I kick free of him, splashing wildly away from him.
Something feels off, though.
I spin around in the water and realize that my board is further away from me than it should be. And that the leash isn't pulling on me.
Jake slashed the leash so the board is no longer attached me.
He stabs at the board several times with his knife, then shoves it toward the shore, away from me. He grins at me, pivots in the water, and paddles back to where Brett is waiting. Brett drops to his board and they both paddle back toward the lineup.
I take a moment to catch my breath and start swimming in to shore, letting the panic ebb away as I make my way in. My heart is still racing and I'm doing all I can not to cry.
My board makes it to the shore before I do. I examine it when I get there. The stab marks are deep and long and it's already listing to one side. It's ruined and I won't be able to take it out again. I've read about local surfers using nasty tactics to keep others off what they consider their water, but I know this is personal. This isn't about me being new.
This is about Trevor.
I pick up the board and get it under my arm, tears stinging my eyes. I have another board at home. It's not about the board.
It's about the anger and total violation I feel at being threatened and treated like I've done something wrong.
This is about Trevor.
TWENTY FOUR
“You're quiet this morning,” Bridget says.
We're on our way to school and just went through the drive thru to pick up our coffees.
“Am I?” I say, then shrug.
“You okay?”
I am anything but okay, but I nod. “I'm fine. Just...tired, I guess.”
Her eyes are still on me. “He's getting to you, isn't he?”
“Who?”
“You know who. Trevor.”
I shrug again and look out the window.
“Just walk away,” Bridget says. “Walk away now. You aren't going to change him and all he's going to do is make your life miserable. Just walk away.”
