She poked her head into the refrigerator for a bottle of water.
“How’s everything going with Adam and the guys? Have you heard from him? Ollie only texted me a few times yesterday during their layovers, but he didn’t text me today,” said Cat, a hint of accusation in her tone.
“I haven’t heard from Adam,” muttered Kylie. Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink, but she turned away, twisting open the bottle cap.
“Something going on?” Cat frowned.
“No, of course not,” she said quickly.
“Well, I had a good day. I was talking to a coworker, and I think I’ve finally made up my mind to go back to school for my RN,” said Cat, bustling about from the stove to the sink and draining the pasta.
Kylie forced a smile. “That’s great.”
As they ate dinner, Kylie kept Cat busy with chatter about school and work and the Gidget, effectively dancing around anything that would bring up Adam and their fight.
“There is one thing I have to tell you,” admitted Kylie, twirling pasta on her fork. “I met my brother.”
“You met Colton? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It happened really fast. He called me while I was at work and wanted to meet up that night at The Alley. And guess who his fiancée is!”
“Who?”
“Maggie from work,” said Kylie with a relish.
“It’s a small world.” Cat shook her head, then her eyes brightened. “I tried calling Ollie earlier today, but he didn’t answer.”
She shoveled a too-big bite of food into her mouth. “They’re probably busy, anyway. It’s okay; I’m not worried. I’m sure Adam will text me when he can.”
Cat narrowed her eyes.
“Kylie,” she scolded, “tell me what’s going on. You’re a terrible liar. Did something happen with Adam?”
“It’s nothing. Hey! What are you doing?”
Cat had snatched Kylie’s phone from the table and, before Kylie had even finished her question, was dialing. With a sinking feeling of dread in her stomach, Kylie already had more than an inkling of who was on the other end of that call. She reached for the phone, trying to grab it, but Cat slapped her hand away.
“Hey, Adam. No, it’s Cat—”
“Cat, give me the phone,” Kylie hissed.
“What’s going on? Kylie says she hasn’t heard from you.” She paused. “Did something happen?” Several glares were thrown Kylie’s way while she listened to whatever Adam was telling her.
Kylie sank into the chair, defeated, watching with wide eyes. No way he wasn’t telling Cat about their fight.
“Cat, please.” The words sounded pathetic to her own ears.
“No, sorry to have called. Good luck with everything. I’ll keep in touch with Ollie.” She gently placed the phone back on the table and opened her mouth, but Kylie cut her off.
“Don’t. Just don’t. I don’t want to hear—”
“Why didn’t you tell me? You have to ruin everything good that comes into your life, don’t you? Adam isn’t Ben, but you’re treating him like he’s cheating on you with what, music? And yeah, I get it. Both your parents are dead now. This is turning into high school all over again when your dad died. Get over it. This kind of stuff happens every day, but you have to pick yourself up. I mean, look at you. You’re still here in the house where Mama died. You’re still sleeping in your kid bedroom. When are you going to let go?
“And why can’t you see how much Adam cares about you? It’s like you finally see that you have something good, and you push him away. I’ve tried to make you see that there are people around you who care, who want you to open up, but you still shut us out. Open your eyes. Keep it up, and you won’t have anyone left.”
Kylie’s lips parted. She stared. It would hurt much less, she thought, if Cat had simply given her another black eye. Hot tears stung in her eyes, and she found herself standing as Cat snatched up her keys, muttering under her breath.
“Really, Cat? Why don’t you tell me how you really feel? I’m not you! I don’t just up and change like you! I can’t just act like everything is just dandy! Adam’s leaving, and he’ll move on and find someone else and be happy, and I’ll be here in Charleston. I can’t just jump into relationship after relationship like you do!” The sour words tumbled from her tongue and left a bitter taste in their wake.
Cat’s gaze softened for a fleeting moment. “He said he hopes you’ll change your mind and go with him. To New York. You can’t see how much he loves you, can you?”
Her cheeks burned. “It’s not that simple.” Her voice broke; she swallowed hard and closed her eyes. “I can’t just drop everything here and move with him. This isn’t some fairytale ending where we live happily ever after.”
“Are you waiting until you regret it before you realize you’re making a mistake? Fight for him. Fight for yourself. Fight for something other than being a stubborn ass. You’re just throwing away something great.” She snatched her purse from the table and marched to the door. “But it’s your life. Do what you want with it. Spend the rest of it completely alone if that’s what gets you off. I’m done trying to make you open your eyes. Call me when you do.”
Cat slung one last glare at Kylie before slamming the door shut behind her, leaving Kylie with hot tears in her eyes.
Early Saturday morning, Adam sat on the edge of a hard chair in the dining room of the hotel. His knee bounced incessantly. Where the hell is she? Even the words burned in his mind. He wondered, how was Kylie’s competition going? Had she competed yet?
To calm his nerves, Adam thought back to the day before. Everything had gone smoothly with the lawyers, and One Night Young was officially signed to Black Diamond Records. He imagined that he might wake up feeling differently, but he felt like the same old Adam. The only difference was that the knot in his chest tightened when he thought of Kylie. His mother’s failure to show up on time—if at all—only added to his agitation.
After the formalities of paperwork and signatures had been sorted through, JJ showed them around the building and introduced them to some of the top executives in the company, then showed them the sound room where they would record their first signed album. The space was warm with wood paneling and filled with equipment that Adam had only ever dreamed of using. His hands floated from instrument to instrument, wanting to touch all of it. Giddy, that’s how he had felt. It had proven enough to make him forget his distress, if only for a fleeting moment.
Black Diamond would be giving them an advance—more than plenty to get them packed up and moved to New York to begin recording. He could still hear Kylie’s words in his mind: It’s your dream, I know it is.
He sighed and wrapped his hands around the now lukewarm mug of coffee. The solution seemed simple: Move with him. She had no other ties in Charleston, other than Cat, so why stay? It didn’t make sense to Adam. On top of it all, she couldn’t admit that she loved him, if she even loved him at all.
He waited another hour, but his mother never showed.
What had she done?
Already, Kylie lay wide awake, lying on her back, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling when the alarm sounded. Too nervous and still too shaken from last night’s events, she hardly touched any breakfast. Instead, she sat at the kitchen table, legs crossed, foot bouncing while she sipped on a cup of coffee and glared at her surfboard, which loomed menacingly from the corner in the hallway.
Self-doubt quickly began to settle into every ounce and fiber of her being. Time had run out. How could she face going to the competition today? Her stomach sickened. Yes, she had practiced. But now, after last night…she’d be a wreck. No way she wouldn’t make a fool of herself today. And would Samantha show? She might have been fired from Grits, but as far as Kylie knew, she wasn’t banned from the Gidget.
She rose from the table, dumped the dregs of cold coffee in the sink, and dragged herself into the bedroom to change.
Having been up so early, only a few cars sat in the
parking lot at the Washout when she arrived. The weather was decent to say the least; the sun was shining, and the air warmed her skin. The wind was a bit stronger than what she’d normally like for a day like today, but she would take what she could get.
She pulled on her rash guard, yanked off her board shorts, and unhooked her board from its place on the roof rack.
Organizers had set up a stand for the judges’ table, and the front displayed a banner with this year’s logo of three cartoon-style girls on surfboards. Buoys bobbed in the water to mark the competition boundaries, and flags stuck up from the sand to mark where surfers would gather before each heat. She leaned her board against the car and quickly rubbed a bar of wax over it. More cars pulled up with surfboards hooked to their roofs, but no sign of Cat. To Kylie’s surprise, however, Maggie and Colton climbed out of a Jeep. She tossed the wax into a plastic bag and stood, watching as they approached her. Maggie gave him a small shove.
“Hey,” said Colton awkwardly, giving a half-hearted wave. “I just…wanted to apologize for the other night.”
“I heard you talking about the Gidget at work one day. Figured we’d come cheer you on,” explained Maggie, offering a glowing smile as she hugged Kylie.
“Thanks. It looks like they’ll have a spot for spectators on that far side. They’ve already got the judges’ table set up over there, and I’ve got to check in.”
“We’ll be cheering for you.” Colton gave a lukewarm nod and half a smile.
The first heat of Girls’ shortboard came and went, followed immediately by Juniors’ and Women’s. Next was the longboard division. Kylie watched from the beach, cheering for the young girls and smiling at her own memories of learning to surf with her father. When the second heat of Juniors’ splashed their way into the water, she lugged her board to the prep area to await the first heat of Women’s longboard. Her stomach grumbled, hollow, and she wished she’d eaten something—even a granola bar—this morning.
Just as she leaned down to hook her ankle strap on, a hiss sounded from behind.
“Hope they don’t call an interference on you again.”
Everything inside her tensed. Jaw tightened. Eyes narrowed.
Samantha.
Her legs stiffened as she turned to glare at her. “You have a lot of nerve showing up, you know. How is it they’re letting you compete this year, anyway?”
“My family’s a big sponsor.” Her lips curled into a smirk that Kylie wanted to slap off of her smug expression. “How’s your face, by the way?”
“Shut up.” Kylie’s hand brushed along her brow then clenched around the rail of her board, and she turned back to the waves that were beginning to crest and crash faster and harder.
A whistle blew, signaling their heat to enter the water. Kylie splashed her way in, Samantha and the other girls on her heels. She paddled hard against the current, duck-diving under some of the bigger waves that rolled in at speed. Paddling to turn around, she craned her neck to watch behind her for the next wave. Samantha lay flat on her own board several yards away.
A wave rolled toward them, but Samantha held the inside position and caught it. Dang. But another fair-sized wave soon rolled toward her, and her heart hammered. She paddled quickly, picked up speed as the wave caught her, and popped up, landing on her feet. Her pulse raced with exhilaration as she took the bottom turn and steered straight. Hang Five. She took quick steps to the front of the deck until her right toes curled around the nose. Hang Ten. She held position for a brief moment before bringing her left foot forward until she stood square on the nose. The wave crumbled, and she bailed, jumping off the side and into the water, then climbed back onto her board to paddle back around.
With the waves coming so quickly and seemingly breaking even faster, it was soon Kylie’s turn again. Foam sprayed in her face as she paddled, and it tasted salty on her lips. Samantha was close behind. Both lay on their boards, watching for the next wave. Her heart pounded hard against her ribs as it began rolling in, her pulse deafening in her ears, and her fingertips were cold despite the warm water. She paddled hard as the wave caught her, and adrenaline rushed through her as she popped up and hit the bottom turn. Her brow furrowed in concentration as she swooped upward and caught the crest, riding the top of the wave, knees bent while her fingers dragged along the water. Yes! She wanted to cheer and whoop and scream at the top of her lungs in exhilaration. Samantha rode not far away on the outside position and steered her board closer—too close for Kylie’s comfort. A long whistle sounded. She tried to steer straight, to get away from Samantha, but her balance was suddenly wrong; her feet slipped, her arms flailed as she tried to right herself, but she fell backward, board flying above her head, heart stopping. Her ankle strap yanked her leg upward. She was tumbling, twirling, falling. Briny water roared in her ears, swirling all around, burning in her nose. Searing pain sliced through her skull, and she wanted to cry out, but no sound escaped as water filled her mouth.
Then she was gone.
A long, low, moan. The only sound she had the energy for. Her head throbbed. Painful pulses. Everything felt like a million pounds—arms, legs. All immovable rocks. Whatever she lay on felt gritty—sand? Yes, sand. The crashing waves sounded far away. Everything remained dark until, groggily, like she was fighting through a pool of thick syrup, she realized her eyes were closed. Pieces began coming back. Surfing. Nailing a Hang Ten. Her eyes fluttered open to see people hovering all around, and a paramedic in dark uniform leaned over her.
She tried to push herself up. “What are my scores? Did I beat Samantha?” she mumbled.
“No, no, don’t get up,” he urged as he placed his fingers on her wrist. Kylie obeyed, laying her aching head back down. Behind him stood Maggie and Colton, Maggie’s hand covering her mouth.
Colton gave a small grin. “Yeah, you beat her. She got disqualified.”
The paramedic glared at Colton then turned back to Kylie. “Can you tell me your name?”
“Good.” Another groan. “Kylie Lewis. What happened?” Her last memory was of paddling to catch her second wave. Everything after that remained dark and fuzzy.
“You fell off your board and it hit your head.” He wrapped his stethoscope around his neck.
A throb of pain sliced through her skull, bringing tears to her eyes. She squeezed them shut.
“We’re going to get you to the ER.” A female paramedic set down a hard stretcher beside her.
“What? No!” Kylie glanced at Maggie, who shook her head sadly.
They helped her ease herself onto the stretcher, and she was bounced and jolted while they loaded her into the back of the ambulance. Kylie closed her eyes, trying to ignore the pounding in her head as the vehicle rumbled into motion.
This is not how I wanted to end this week.
On Monday, Kylie sat and stared at her computer monitor, trying to reread an email for the fourth time. The words all blurred together, and she couldn’t seem to focus on any of them. Instead, her mind had the weekend on repeat—her elation at Samantha’s disqualification, the burn of humiliation when she’d regained consciousness, her irritation when the ER wouldn’t allow her to return home right away.
With a sigh, she held her head in her hands for a moment before heading to the table in the back corner to pour herself a cup of coffee. As she dumped powdered creamer into a foam cup, Bruce approached from behind and prodded her side with a finger. His cologne was strong—so strong that it triggered a headache.
She pinched the bridge of her nose and hissed, “Why are you touching me?” Her jaw clenched. “Go away.”
“Testy today, are we?” He poured himself a cup. “You could use something to relax. No need to be so tense all the time. I’ve got the perfect idea. You come over to my place; I’ve got some red wine we could—”
“No.”
“And I could rub your back. I give good massages, too.”
“Lord have mercy, no! Ugh, please, you’re going to make me sick.” She shuddered, h
urriedly dumped sugar in her coffee, and headed back to her cubicle, but Bruce followed.
“Come on, Kylie; you won’t even give me a chance. I could be a great guy, for all you know.”
Kylie hurled herself into her chair and glared. “No, I know you well enough at work that I don’t even want to know you outside of work.”
He leaned against her desk. “I think you’re a beautiful young woman who deserves the world, and I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. That boyfriend of yours obviously isn’t doing his job very well.”
“Go away.”
“You know, if you go on a date with me, I’ll let you go on some leads with me. You want to get into investigative work, right? I’ve got some connections at The Herald.”
She scowled at the monitor, her eyes narrowing at the screen. Mercy, please just leave me alone already.
“Just think about it,” he said before stepping out, his footsteps disappearing down the aisle.
Another shudder rolled down her spine, and she shook her head. Her patience already wore thin today; Adam had returned to Charleston sometime yesterday, but she had yet to hear from him. That fact had weighed on her mind all morning. After the last time she saw him, when she had walked away from him, he probably wouldn’t bother calling. The thought caused her heart to sink. She’d played his last voicemail a dozen times, just to listen to the uncertainty in his voice—the uncertainty she had caused. At the very least, shouldn’t she try to talk to him?
With a glance over her shoulder to check that Bruce had indeed returned to his cubicle, she slipped out her phone from the desk drawer. She hesitated, her finger hovering over the green dial button. Yes, she should do this. She should talk to Adam. He may not even answer, she thought sadly. With a hard swallow, she dialed.
“Hey,” he answered, his tone higher than usual. He cleared his throat.
“Um, hey.” She paused, unsure. “So…how did everything go in New York?”
The Days Without You: A Story of Love, Loss, and Grief Page 18
