by Nikki Godwin
“I just keep letting him down,” Colby says more to the photograph than to me. “I keep telling myself that if he were here, he’d have my back. He’d be on my side. But then shit like that happens and part of me wonders if anyone really believes in me anymore. Miles thinks I’m the scandal of the year, and if Topher didn’t think it before, he does now.”
“You’re perceptive,” I say, forcing myself off of the counter. I walk across the kitchen to see if I can read his face. “But you always assume everyone thinks the worst of you.”
“Because they do,” he says. His eyes focus on the image ahead of him, still refusing to look at me. “He told me we could handle this, that we could get through anything. He used to say that if my secrets were ever out, we’d handle it. He’d make sure it didn’t ruin me. And then he died and left me here to figure it all out on my own.”
I grab his shoulder and jerk him back, forcing him to pull away from the blonde wild child in the photo and see the girl in his kitchen.
“Hey!” I half-shout. “You are not alone in this. What am I? Vapor? Were you not the one who said all those lines about the cover band and the Solomons and breaking your window? Remember me? The girl who chased you across America thanks to your chewed gum? Is that not devotion enough for you?”
He doesn’t want to crack a smile, but he can’t fight it. “I know I have you. You’re the only friend I have here,” he reassures me. “I just miss Shark, especially when things go down like this. He always had a plan, something in mind for how to talk our way out of things. He always told me that if this came back to bite me, we’d make it through.”
“And we will,” I say. “If Shark said we’ll make it through, we’ll make it through.”
The excited atmosphere in Joe’s living room is vastly different from the stark realities of Colby’s living room earlier today. We haven’t even stepped inside yet, but happiness is looming on the other side of that screen door.
“You okay?” A.J. asks, waiting a moment before he lets everyone know we’ve arrived.
I nod. “Just dwelling on all this stuff with Colby’s parents,” I tell him. I glance around to make sure no one is lurking around outside for a smoke break or some fresh air. “Announcing this second store is just opening the door for them to raise their money bar even higher.”
A.J. releases the door handle and steps back toward me. We walk back down the wooden steps and onto the sand in Joe’s driveway. A.J. lights a cigarette for good measure.
“Have they sent any more papers?” he asks, keeping his voice low.
I shake my head. “Not yet anyway,” I say. “But it’s only a matter of time before there are court dates and negotiations. I keep telling Colby not to pay them off because it’ll be a never-ending cycle. They’ll always come back wanting something else from him.”
“Then we’ll fight it,” A.J. says. He blows a stream of smoke into the air, exhaling it like he’s breathing out all of his worries. “They can’t drag this on forever. They have to pay the lawyer, you know? And Strick’s dad hooked Taylor up with the best lawyer around. He’ll be okay.”
After A.J. drops the cigarette butt and stomps it out with the toe of his shoe, we venture back onto Joe’s porch. I take a deep breath and remind myself to smile. I don’t want Joe knowing about the SurfTube interview or my constant fear that the Burks family may lower the hammer on us any second. Shark’s dad deserves so much more than that, especially right now. He’s continuing his son’s dream. He’s building a legacy. I refuse to rain on that.
A.J. pushes the door open and makes his way over to Reed and Alston. It makes me smile to see Reed here. Even though he doesn’t work for Drenaline Surf, he’s always included, a real part of the Drenaline Surf family. I begin walking toward my roommates, following A.J.’s path, but Topher waves me over to him instead. He sits with Miles and Emily.
Emily slides over to make enough room for me between her and my boyfriend. Topher slips an arm around me and hugs me closer to him.
“Something big is about to happen,” he informs me. A smile stretches across his face, a little too enthusiastic for me. “I’m so excited.”
I lean into him so no one else will hear me. “You are aware that I know about the board shop, right? I’m PR. I’m in the loop,” I whisper.
He scrunches his nose and shakes his head. “You’re not in this loop.”
I know he’s just playfully flirting, and whatever this big secret is must be over the top because he’s bouncing like he does when he has too much Ocean Blast Energy to drink. But that last comment hits a nerve. How many loops am I not in around here? And will I ever be in them? Is it possible for someone like Colby, Logan, or me to actually fit in here like we truly belong?
Before I can glimpse around to see if Colby or Logan showed up tonight, Joe takes center stage in the living room and halts all interaction. He thanks everyone for coming over on short notice and says that he has a very special announcement to make.
After explaining Shark’s dream of having his own board shop someday under the Drenaline Surf logo, he invites Rob Hodges across the room to join him. It’s already been decided and discussed with Theo, but they formally make a show of offering him the paid apprenticeship with Rob to become Drenaline Surf’s official board shaper.
I hate that all eyes are focused on Theo at this moment. Luckily that shaggy brown hair of his hangs over his face. He looks more like a stoner teen than a twenty-something soon-to-be board shaper. He simply nods in acceptance before Rob continues with a speech of his own.
“Years ago, when I left the world of professional surfing so I could shape boards for the new generation, I had no idea what kind of mark I’d leave on the shaping world,” Rob says. He wears a tan button-up shirt with a palm tree print. He’s definitely from that hippie era of surfers, just like Joe.
“My biggest fear was not having someone to pass my knowledge on to,” he continues, motioning a hand toward Theo. “It’s not every day that you’re given an incredible career in this industry. I’ve done my time as a pro surfer. I’ve served as a board shaper. And now, I get to pass my skills on to a very deserving young man to carry on two different legacies.”
I almost wish Rob hadn’t brought up the legacies. Yes, this was Shark’s dream, but our Hooligan doesn’t need any more pressure on him. Jace said it took a lot of conversation and persuasion to even get Theo to accept the position. Even now, he doesn’t feel worthy.
Topher squirms next to me, biting down on his lip to keep from exploding with sugar cube happiness. He doesn’t even look at Miles, which makes me wonder just how crazy this other piece of news may be. Obviously we’re about to find out.
Joe swaps glances with Rob before speaking. “Because our new location is going to need a major overhaul and renovation, Rob has been kind enough to donate the funds to establish our new business and get it up and going,” Joe announces. “And due to his generous contribution, we felt it was only right to take the budget allotted for renovation and invest in something else that may help grow our brand.”
He can’t finish his train of thought, though, because Joe cracks up. “Topher, I’ll let you have the honors,” he says, waving the blue-eyed surfer forward.
Topher jumps up and stakes his spot in the center of the room. Rob hands him an envelope, which Topher accepts all too happily.
“In this envelope,” he says, holding it up for everyone to see, “I have a few pieces of paper that desperately need signatures. On these papers are terms and agreements for a sponsorship with none other than Drenaline Surf, and I’m so freaking happy to offer it to my favorite Hawaiian Hooligan, Mr. Kale Nakoa!”
Miles shouts a ‘hell yes’ and I’m thankful it wasn’t a ‘fuck yes’ in this environment. Emily squeaks with excitement, and the bromantic hugs among the Hooligans go on for minutes before Kale thanks Joe and Rob for this opportunity before immediately signing his contract for a career in surfing.
I feel like I’m going through th
e motions with congratulations and smiles. But deep down, I’m suffocating. Another surfer on our roster? That’s another career I have to manage, another Hooligan who may not take my career or image advice, another surfer to enter in competitions, and one more thing that makes Drenaline Surf look like a clique who only sponsors people within our surf family.
Chapter Eight
“Well, that didn’t take long,” A.J. says, sliding his phone across the counter to me. He bites into a piece of toast and crunches it while waiting for my reaction.
The website logo makes me cringe. It’s the same site that posted the article about Logan a week ago. Why are they out for Drenaline Surf’s blood?
Alston leans into my arm, digging his chin into my shoulder so he can read along with me. Aside from breathing, neither of us makes a sound while I scroll down the screen of A.J.’s phone to take in the slander that’s being tossed at us today.
Just mere weeks after Vin Brooks’ sudden departure from Drenaline Surf, the crew has dropped a pretty penny on yet another sponsorship – this time, Hawaiian native but current Horn Island resident, Kale Nakoa.
Following our recent article about Logan Riley and his possible mistake in signing with Drenaline Surf, we’d hoped to make a statement and show Drenaline Surf what they look like to the outside world. Maybe the article went unread. One can assume as much seeing as they’ve yet again proven they are more of a cult than a surf company with the surf industry’s best interests at heart.
Did Drenaline Surf call for surfers to send in video clips? Did they announce that they were looking to build their platform? We’ve seen none of the sort. (However, if you have links, by all means, post them in the comment section below!)
Are we the only ones who find it strange that Vin Brooks was the only person who tried to recruit and bring in fresh blood by sponsoring a talented east coast surfer? He gave Logan Riley a better opportunity and was suddenly banished from all things Drenaline Surf. No one has even seen him around town since his departure from the company. It leads us to believe that his exit may not have been as mutual as Drenaline Surf is portraying it to have been.
“Damn,” Alston says, pushing himself off of me. “That’s harsh. Have you guys issued any kind of press statement on Vin leaving?”
I shake my head, but I have a feeling that’s what I’ll be doing today. I reach across the counter and grab the least burnt piece of toast.
“Breakfast to go,” I say. “I’ve gotta get to Drenaline and see if this has made its way around yet. Jace is new to this, and he won’t be prepared. We have to issue some kind of statement, even if he wants to keep it quiet. This isn’t going away.”
A.J. and Alston say they’ll see me at work before I head back over to the guest house to grab my bag. The drive to the store is super short, but it feels like an eternity today. I’m in damage control mood, and I’m determined to actually do my job today.
The Strip is quiet for the early morning hours. A few vendors are already setting up for the day’s tourist crowd. One says ‘good morning’ as I rush by in my frantic hurry. It’s anything but a good morning for Drenaline Surf. I normally enter through the back door, but I’m thrown completely out of sorts today. I fiddle with my keys and unlock the main entrance, quickly locking it again behind me.
Voices drift from the back office, and then the telephone rings. Jace answers with a, ‘Drenaline Surf, Jace speaking,’ that sounds stressed. Logan peeks his head out of the back office and advances in my direction.
“Morning,” he says, shoving his hands into the pockets of his cargo pants. “I came up here early to talk to Jace about some things that were being said about me online.”
I nod. “How you’re going to regret inking your deal with Drenaline Surf?” I ask. I’m way ahead of this guy.
“You already know?” he asks, a bit surprised.
I can’t fight a smile. “It’s my job to know, Logan,” I remind him. “I have to be in the middle of it all. I’m damage control, which I think Jace needs this morning.”
We walk back to the office where Jace is telling someone on the other line that we don’t have a comment at this time. He slams the phone down immediately after.
He glances up at us, defeat written all over his face. “Every local news outlet is calling here,” he says. “The TV channels. The newspapers. The gossip columns. How the hell did Vin handle all of this?”
“Because he was good at his job,” I say. I throw my hand over my mouth. I cannot believe I just said that out loud. “He was good with people,” I correct myself. “He knew how to tell them what they wanted to hear. He could spin a story any way he wanted.”
“Master manipulator,” Logan says, his tone sly and borderline offensive.
“No. Vin wasn’t like that,” I say. I have no idea why I’m defending him. He manipulated all of us when he secretly planned his departure and abandoned us. “He wasn’t like that in the business world, anyway.”
Jace runs his hands through his hair and leans back in the office chair, almost like he’s still not really comfortable in this new job position. “I can’t spin this,” he says.
I sit down on the corner of the desk. “But I can,” I assure him. “I’ve seen Vin do this too many times with Colby. I can spin a story. Believe it or not, Vin taught me well. That’s why I’m your damage control girl.”
For the next hour, Jace and I pen the perfect press statement while Logan helps Topher and Emily on the front registers. We’re booming with business this morning, which goes to show that all publicity really is good publicity. It’s almost like people are lingering with their shopping or ‘forgetting items’ just to come back inside in case something happens.
“It won’t stop the phone calls,” Jace says, sitting in front of the Drenaline Surf website.
“But it’ll give you a place to direct them when they call,” I say. I read over the statement one more time, just to make sure it would be Vin-approved.
Drenaline Surf would like to welcome Kale Nakoa to our roster of sponsored surfers. Kale hails from the North Shore of Oahu in Hawaii and grew up surfing classic surf spots like Pipeline and Back Door. His love for the sport and his surf-immersed spirit is exactly what Drenaline Surf is about and what Shark McAllister lived for. We’re excited to have him on board as we move forward in the surf community.
At Drenaline Surf, we understand following your passion and chasing your dreams. It’s the essence this company was founded upon and the ultimate belief of the McAllister family. We were saddened to see Vin Brooks leave the company last month, but we understood his desire to follow his passion in mechanics and take on a new opportunity in a field that he enjoyed. With this departure, a door has been opened for our new manager, Jace Hudson, to join the Drenaline Surf family and carry on its legacy.
We’re excited to grow and evolve in the upcoming months and will announce all of our future projects soon.
– Haley Sullivan, Public Relations ([email protected])
I submit the statement on our website and hope that all questions will be directed to me instead of Jace or – God forbid – Joe’s house.
“That’s all we can do for now,” I tell him. “If anyone calls wanting a statement or a comment, tell them that our official press release is on our website and give them the web address. Say nothing more, nothing less.”
Jace nods a few times, like his brain is still trying to absorb the insanity that is unfolding before us. “Thank you,” he finally says, his voice somewhat low. “This is a far cry from the music store.”
I push the office chair back and stand. “It’ll get better. We’re in a transitional phase, like Joe said,” I tell him. “Now that we’ve averted the media crisis, I’m going to let you resume inventory control.”
I walk out to the main room, hoping to steal Topher away for a few minutes to ask him how he knew about Kale’s sponsorship before anyone else. I know Joe told him, obviously, but he couldn’t have known for long. Tophe
r couldn’t have kept it from Miles if he had.
Logan intercepts me, though, before I reach the front counter.
“Hey, I sort of need to talk to you,” he says, looking around sheepishly. It’s like he doesn’t know his place here. Actually, he probably doesn’t.
“Is everything okay?” I ask. I remind myself to smile, to be warm and friendly. I’ve had a sour taste in my mouth about his arrival simply because everyone else felt offended by his entrance to Drenaline Surf. They accepted me. They somewhat accepted Colby. Logan deserves his chance too.
He shrugs. “I just…I need to talk to you about my career or image or whatever it is,” he says. It’s not the first time I’ve heard that line. “I’m tired of my name being dragged around like I’m some kind of victim. You’re the damage control person, so can you fix it?”
Of course, I can fix it. I can more than fix it. I don’t think Logan even realizes his own potential. If he’s as great a surfer as Vin said he is, then he’s the full package. He’s marketable. He’s someone you want on magazine covers. He just needs a team to back him, and he’s not getting any of that here. My loyalty forever lies with Colby, but I’m not going to be one of those people that article talked about. I won’t give Logan the short straw.
“Let’s go for a drive,” I tell him. “We need to talk some things over.”
“This is a hidden little gem,” Logan says, dropping his shades over his eyes. He wears Oakleys, just like A.J. “How did you find it?”
“Colby brought me here once,” I say, stepping onto the pier. “It’s where he comes to think, to get away from the crowds and the craziness. Tourists don’t really know about this spot. They’re all out on The Strip. The pier is great there, but this one is more Zen.”
I cringe upon the use of the word Zen. I can’t believe it even came out of my mouth. I swallow the lump in my throat – and the memories of my ex-boyfriend – and focus on the matter at hand – Logan's career.
