Always Summer

by Nikki Godwin

  “Anything you have to say to me, you can say in front of Haley and Emily,” Kale informs him. “So go ahead.”

  The tired expression on Jace’s face worries me. He clearly doesn’t want to have this conversation, at least not with all of us at once, but he throws his hands into the air and mumbles something about how he warned us.

  He positions himself on the other side of the counter, next to the cash register. I squeeze in between Emily and Kale.

  “There is no easy way to say this,” Jace begins. “You’re all well aware of the rumors, the legal issues, and everything else that’s been happening to Drenaline Surf lately. But something has come up that’s a bit more serious than Colby’s parents or A.J.’s juvenile record. It’s even bigger than my arrest.”

  My guts feel like the sign at Shipwrecked, tangled up in the tentacles of a massive octopus. It squeezes and twists, leaving me nauseated.

  “I can’t go into the details, but this turn of events is something that requires extreme measures while it’s being investigated,” he explains. “I didn’t want to make this decision, but it’s for the good of Drenaline Surf, and that’s what I have to take into consideration. So until further notice, the three of you are being placed on administrative leave.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  I’m livid. I’m bullet-spitting kind of livid. And I’m upset because I don’t understand how I can go from putting out Drenaline Surf fires to possibly being a Drenaline Surf fire. But more than anything, I’m scared.

  Emily doesn’t say a word as she leans against her driver’s side door. She hasn’t said a word this entire time. She just fiddles with the small sea turtle keychain that she kept her work keys on, holding it all on its lonesome.

  Even when Vin fired me, he didn’t take my keys from me. I’ve had those keys since the day Vin met my parents, when he gave me the set in case I ever needed to find him and couldn’t. Now, I’m Drenaline Surf-less.

  “I wonder how long we can stand here before he sends someone to escort us away,” Emily says, looking at her rhinestone-encrusted flip-flops. “Banned from the premises. How did this even happen?”

  What is possibly bigger than criminal records? What could they be hiding that’s worth suspending your PR rep and putting a sponsorship on hold?

  “I need this job. Nowhere else is going to pay me this well without some fancy college degree. I have no reason to hurt Drenaline Surf,” Emily says. Her voice cracks and she grabs her sunglasses from her purse. “I’m leaving before he calls his friend Pittman to see me off. I’ll call you later.”

  She doesn’t give me a chance to console her or even say goodbye. I’m surprised she managed to stay an extra five minutes in the parking lot with me. She fought tears from the very moment that Jace asked for her keys.

  I watch the back door until Kale emerges. For half a second, I’m hopeful that maybe the Hooligan brotherhood worked in Kale’s favor, but he shakes his head as he walks my way.

  “Do you believe this? I really thought if I talked to him one-on-one, maybe he’d tell me something, but he’s in serious boss-mode,” Kale tells me.

  “Nothing at all?” I ask.

  “Pretty much, no,” Kale confirms. “He said that when we’re eligible to work for Drenaline Surf again – if we’re eligible – we’ll be notified by Joe or whoever is in charge at that time.”

  “If we’re eligible? He actually said that?” I question. That’s a huge freaking if. “How did we even get here? And what does he mean whoever is in charge? You think his job is on the line too?”

  Kale shrugs. “I’m as lost as you are. This is bullshit,” he says. “Was this the master plan? Take us down one by one? I can’t believe I could lose my sponsorship over this. We all just basically lost our jobs.”

  If the plan was to take us down one by one, whoever is behind this started with Kale, Emily, and me. Maybe they thought we were the easiest to eliminate. We’re the weakest links…or the easiest targets.

  But then it dawns on me. We’re under investigation. Jace or Joe or maybe both of them have a reason to believe it’s one of us. Something points in our directions. We’re suspects. We’re no longer innocent in the eyes of Drenaline Surf. If they have reason to doubt us, who else will believe we’re guilty?

  Kale says he’s going to talk to the Hooligans about this and promises to update me if he hears anything else. I tell him the same before I get in my car and head back to the condo. I don’t want to go home, though. How do I tell my roommates about this? What do I even say?

  On the short drive, this all becomes sickeningly real to me. It’s going to hit the tabloids tomorrow or the next day – whenever the story catches on and the gossip spreads. SurfTube is going to discuss it. Surf forums online will talk about it. Residents of Horn Island and Crescent Cove will question us. And I have no way to defend myself. I can’t even word the press statement, and for once, I don’t trust Jace to do the job correctly.

  A.J. walks outside as soon as I pull into the driveway. “I thought you were off today,” he says. “What’s up?”

  I’m only one leg out of the car as he asks the questions.

  “Why weren’t you at work today?” I ask him. “Or Alston. Were you guys scheduled to be off?”

  He shakes his head. “Jace called me this morning and said to take the day off per Joe, so I didn’t question it. I needed the sleep,” he says. “Are you okay?”

  “No,” I say, walking toward the guest house. Luckily, I know A.J. well enough to know he’ll follow me inside. I don’t want to have this conversation out in the open.

  He sits on my bed and waits quietly as I tell him what happened today, from the store being closed to the moment I left after realizing Jace wasn’t going to budge even for Kale.

  When A.J. finally speaks, he says something I don’t expect. “You know I’m behind you, right? No matter what happens, you have me.”

  I mean, yeah, I know that A.J. has my back. He’s the only person in Crescent Cove who hasn’t let me down in one way or another. Even when he threw me off the jet ski, that was a blessing in disguise because I realized how misunderstood he is.

  “You don’t think people will turn against me, do you?” I ask. I feel stupid even saying the words. There’s no way we’re going to fall apart over this.

  He shrugs. “I’m just saying, if people start talking, you don’t know what will happen,” he says, scaring me more than I’d like. “Kale is a Hooligan. Emily dates one.”

  “So do I,” I remind him. I grab my phone from my purse and dial Topher’s number, just to prove that he’ll be there for me and has my back too.

  But Topher doesn’t answer. He’s probably with Kale, getting the scoop on what happened. Or he’s with Miles and Emily, helping his best friend console a crying girl. He’ll call me back.

  “How well do you know Emily?” A.J. asks, stretching out on my bed.

  I can’t believe he’s even going there. Emily isn’t guilty of this. She’d never hurt Drenaline Surf. Vin took a chance on her and gave her that job, and she’s enjoyed every second of being part of this. And she adores her boyfriend. There’s no way she’d ever hurt his sponsor.

  “Don’t do that,” I tell A.J. “Don’t start questioning everyone. Don’t make me start questioning everyone.”

  “Sit down,” he says, motioning to the bed. “I love you. You know that. You’re my family. But I’ve been here. I’ve lived through this before. When Shark died, we all split. The Hooligans all came together, and the rest of us were on the outside. Vin was the only link between us, and he was with us more than them. I’ve seen it play out before. I want you to be prepared.”

  I don’t understand why it has to be one of us. What happened to the Dominic theory? It’s still very likely that he’s pumping information to someone. What about Colby’s parents? They may have an entire team of people working for them to drag Drenaline Surf down. They have the money. They’re probably not as broke as they’re pretending to be. If peo
ple think it’s Kale, they could go after any of the Hooligans. It’s only a matter of time before they say it’s Miles or Theo. If people think it’s me, it could just as easily be Alston or Logan. No one is safe.

  “They’re trying to take us down from the inside,” I say, letting it all sink in against my will. “This was the plan. Turn us all against each other, right?”

  A.J. shrugs. “I don’t know what the plan is,” he admits. “But I just know how easily people take sides around here. Shark’s death, in some ways, tore us apart and in other ways, brought us together. But this is different. I just want you to be prepared. And no matter what, I’m on your side. I know you didn’t do this. But I’ll be honest – I can’t say the same for Kale or Emily, and that’s how I know someone will say the same about you.”

  After A.J. says to let him handle telling Reed and Alston, the panic sets in full force. If he doesn’t want me to tell our own roommates, something is wrong. Maybe he knows how they’ll react. Kale has become a good friend of Alston’s, and Reed likes to stay neutral. It may just be me and Jailbird Gonzalez in the end, and while I love A.J., I don’t want to lose everyone else along the way.

  Once I know A.J. is inside and out of view, I grab my bag and make a run for the car. There’s one other person in the cove who I know will have my back until the very end.

  Chapter Nineteen

  “You can’t let this get to you,” Colby says for the tenth time. He resituates in the corner of his couch. “Everyone knows you have Drenaline Surf’s best interests at heart. You always have.”

  I don’t say a word, but I narrow my eyes at him, hoping he gets the message. The more I think about it, the more guilty I can see myself being, even though I know better. I’m not from here. I’m friends with Colby. I’m only here because of him. His parents arrived in the cove the very same day I did.

  Kale was right – I’ve read so many gossip articles and theories that I can actually predict them now. I can think like the columnists, even when I’m the one being talked about.

  “Everything is stacked against me,” I tell Colby. “I dated Vin, and he bailed. Then I dated his brother. I look like I’m dating around within the Drenaline Surf family so I can gather info or keep my in with them.”

  He laughs, and I’m borderline offended because I’m being so incredibly serious right now. I know it sounds ridiculous. I hear the words as they come out of my mouth. I realize I’m reaching the crazy point, but it doesn’t matter.

  “I need to be a step ahead so I can brace myself for the storm,” I say.

  “Then become a weatherman. Or weather-woman. Or whatever,” Colby says. “Think about it. Emily is dating her high school best friend’s ex-boyfriend. That looks shady. Kale isn’t even from here, and people could say he was bitter about the honorary Hooligan status or that he wants to go back to Hawaii.”

  I don’t like his theories. I don’t like the idea that Emily or Kale is dishonest. I know better. My heart knows better. But he has a point. Emily isn’t as well-known in the Drenaline Surf world, so all kinds of dirt could be dug up on her. She’s a blank slate for the most part, as far as the media is concerned. And Kale isn’t from here, so they could easily paint some shady past and evil motives around him. We really were the easiest targets.

  “Or hey, Vin is behind it all and that’s why he bailed,” Colby suggests. “He’s not on an oil rig. He’s in hiding. Do you see how stupid this is? I can spin it any way I want. Hell, maybe it’s me and I’m working with my parents and this was all part of the plan. Make me a famous surfer. Have a crazy story for the media. My parents fake a lawsuit, and we all get rich and famous in the process. See what I mean?”

  “Point taken,” I say, defeated. Who knew I’d need Colby Taylor to talk sense into me someday?

  “You want to go for a ride?” he asks. “Just to get some air and clear your head?”

  Right now, nowhere sounds better than his pier. After today, I don’t think I trust the ocean to wash away the drama and worries of my world. If anything, I feel like she’s taunting me, daring me to test her again. Next time, she may not be as generous as she was the night she released Topher for us. Solid land is where I belong right now.

  “He’s still not answering,” I say, slamming my phone into the cup holder in Colby’s truck.

  After multiple calls and text messages, I thought I’d have heard something from Topher by now. Emily hasn’t responded to my text either, but I haven’t blown up her phone like I have with Topher’s. I just wanted to know if she was okay. I’m a little offended that Topher hasn’t bothered to do the same for me. He has to know by now. Kale is a Hooligan, and Miles is his best friend. Of course, he knows by now.

  “Do you think he thinks I’m guilty?” I ask, even thought I don’t want to know the answer.

  Colby shrugs, which is what I feared. He was here when Shark died. He watched the same thing that A.J. watched. He saw them come together and push everyone else away. Is that what’s happening now? Am I being ditched by a Brooks brother yet again? I really don’t like this pattern.

  Colby pulls his truck into a parking lot near the outskirts of Crescent Cove. There’s a boating ramp off to the side. A red and white sign catches Colby’s headlights. It has stick figure drawings explaining how to properly launch and dock from out here.

  I’ve only driven out this far once, and I was with Vin. But even that one time was enough to be familiar with the area. Shark’s studio is out here somewhere, all alone, away from the crowd.

  I wonder if Shark used to drive out there whenever the surf world got to be too much. I bet it was his Zen place the way the pier is for Colby. I spin around in my seat to look out the back glass.

  Dusk is upon us, in that hazy way where orange streaks turn gray in the sky, but it’s fitting for today. There is no beautiful sunset with bright colors hiding behind palm tree leaves. It’s not camera-worthy, even though I know that Shark could’ve captured it with his lens in a way to make it beautiful.

  “Is that it?” I ask, pointing back behind us.

  Colby laughs. “Is it crazy that I know exactly what ‘that’ is without you telling me?” he asks. “Yeah, that’s Shark’s studio back there. I haven’t been in it since he died.”

  I squint my eyes to see it in the haze, but I know it’s over there with that oval-shaped sign above the front door. Jake McAllister Photography. It’s the same silver logo that’s on all of his photographs.

  “Okay, I know it’s been a long day,” I begin, “and I know you think I’m crazy, but…is there a light on in his studio? Please tell me I just can’t see correctly and the craziness has gone to my eyesight.”

  Colby whips his truck around in the empty boating lot and throws it back into parked. He pops his door open and peers into the distance. “Looks like it,” he says.

  “There’s no way,” I insist, opening my own door. “Kill your headlights.”

  Colby does as he’s ordered. The creeping nightfall proves him right, though. There’s a light on in Shark’s studio, which is impossible.

  “Oh God,” I say, steadying my balance against his truck door. My head swims with panic, and I fear I may hit the pavement.

  “Get in,” Colby says, getting back into the driver’s seat.

  He reaches his hand across to help me back into the truck. I feel so incredibly fragile.

  “Maybe it’s Joe or one of the guys,” Colby says. “We’ll drive over and see if anyone’s car is there, okay?”

  I nod quickly, but I can’t calm the leaps my heart is trying to take across my chest cavity. My lungs feel heavy, but I’m thankful for their positioning or else my heart may have seriously already leapt out of my chest. I feel like a dolphin out of water.

  “Are you okay?” Colby asks. “Take a deep breath.”

  I shake my head. “There are only two people with keys to that studio,” I tell him. “Joe doesn’t have one. And the Hooligans don’t have access. There was only one spare key.”


  Digging through my purse, I unzip the side pocket where I’ve had the key stashed since Vin gave it to me a few weeks ago. Then I hold it up to show Colby.

  “You have the spare?” he asks, a bit surprised.

  I nod. “And the other key is on an oil rig.”

  As Colby turns onto the street that leads down to the studio, I try to convince myself that maybe Vin gave the key back to Joe. He turned Drenaline Surf over to him, so maybe he turned over the studio too. But then Joe would’ve gotten my key from me or Vin would’ve asked for it back. Someone would’ve said something, regardless.

  The thought of someone digging around through Shark’s belongings, touching his photography equipment and leaving prints on his photos, makes me absolutely sick. I don’t even come out here, and I’m technically allowed to. This is like hallowed ground. It’s sacred. Knowing someone has been here – or is in there right now – is worse than being placed on administrative leave. I was trusted with this place, and I haven’t even kept a proper eye on it. Now someone is using it to probably gain more information, to find new secrets or ways to bring us down. Maybe whatever ‘turn of events’ that happened today has to do with this. Why didn’t I come out here sooner?

  A white car is parked outside of the studio. I don’t recognize it. Neither does Colby.

  “Arkansas tags,” Colby says. “Why is someone from a land-locked state at Shark’s studio?”

  I rush through my mind trying to remember if we stopped anywhere in Arkansas last summer on our scavenger hunt across America. I don’t recall it, though. Stella’s was in Tennessee. The coffee shop was in Oklahoma. Did we even go through Arkansas?

  “Let’s go in,” I tell him. “I’m not running from them.”

  “Should we call someone? Let them know?” Colby asks.

  I glance over at him as I pop the door open. “Who are you going to call? Joe? Jace? Pittman? You can call if you want, but I’m going in,” I say.