by Jordan Ford
I didn’t plan on being Jed’s friend. I’m a loner. I’ve learned that’s the safest way to live, but when he arrived sophomore year, Jed decided he wanted to be my friend, and he just hounded me until I eventually capitulated and stopped trying to ditch him around every corner.
We now eat lunch together almost every day.
And we always meet up before school for a quick catch-up.
There’s still twenty minutes before the first bell rings, so we wander out to the quad. May as well catch a few rays before we’re forced back inside.
“So, how was your weekend?” Jed plunks down at one of the picnic tables.
“Not bad.” I bob my head. “Yours?”
“Working most of it,” he mumbles.
“How’s it going? Is your grams a tough boss?”
“Nah. She’s cool.” Jed bobs his head. His grandmother is in charge of the admin and cleaning staff at the local hospital. That’s what brought them to Ryder Bay. Jed lives permanently with his grandparents. Apparently his teen mom couldn’t handle things. He hasn’t seen her since he was three, and he doesn’t like to talk about it.
Anyway, Mrs. Dellaney moved the family to Ryder Bay when she got the job at Aviemore Hospital. It’s not a huge hospital, just big enough to cater to Ryder Bay residents. I have no idea how many doctors work there, but it caters to all local emergencies and illnesses. Anything really major gets sent south to one of the bigger towns.
“You like it, though? Think you’ll stick with it?” I ask. He’s only had the job for a few weeks.
“Yeah, it’s good enough. I mean, it’s cleaning.” He pulls a face. “But it’s money in my pocket.”
“Still saving for a car?”
“Not sure.” He shrugs. “I’m wondering about saving up to do some kind of road trip after we graduate.” He wiggles his eyebrows at me. “We could drive the coast. You could surf your little heart out.”
“And what would you do?” I raise my eyebrows at him.
“Work on my tan and pick up hot chicks on the beach.”
I giggle and shake my head. Jed is already as black as night. I love the color of his skin, and the kindness of his brown eyes.
I point at him. “To do all that, we need a car.”
“Good point.” Jed nods. “So I’ll save for the car, and you can save for supplies and traveling cash.”
“Accommodations?” I ask.
Jed doesn’t even have to think about it. “We’ll buy a station wagon and sleep in the back.”
I actually love the sound of that and show him with an approving smile that he quickly wipes off my face. “So, how’s work for you? Freshmart treating you well?”
With a harsh scoff, I scowl and tell him about the two bitchy girls I had to deal with on Saturday. “I really hate my job, but I don’t know what else I’m supposed to do. I just wish I could earn some cash doing something I enjoy.”
“OTD.”
“What does that mean?” My forehead wrinkles as I try to work out his latest acronym.
“Oh totally, dude.”
I’m instantly fighting a grin. “That’s not… that’s not a thing.”
“Yeah, it is.” He looks slightly offended. “It’s my thing. And it’s gonna catch on. You’ll see.”
“OTD,” I say, albeit sarcastically. A smile curls my lips as I lose the battle. I can’t help it. Jed can be a dork, but a very lovable one.
“Well, what about that guy you saw on the beach, the sad sack who asked you about surfing? Why don’t you offer to teach him?”
I knew I’d regret telling him about that. I wish we’d never started our text-a-thon last night, but he asked about the surf and of course I had to respond, and one text led to another.
It was annoying that I still had pretty rich boy on my brain nearly forty-eight hours after I’d spoken to him.
My nose wrinkles. “How did we go from grocery store snobs to hot guy on the beach?”
“Oh, so he’s hot now?” Jed smirks. “You didn’t say that in your texts last night.”
I glare at him, which only makes him laugh. He has a loud, barking kind of laugh that always draws attention. I hunch my shoulders and rest my arms on the table, my glare still intact as I wait it out.
Jed clears his throat as he tries, and fails, not to grin at me.
“Come on, HQ. Stop looking at me like that.” He taps my hand. “I meant why don’t you offer him lessons and he pays for them? A way to earn money doing something you love.”
“That’s a stupid idea.” I shake my head and start nibbling my thumbnail.
“No, it’s not,” he counters. “It’s freaking brilliant.”
“Well, I don’t like your brilliant, stupid idea.” My shoulders are tensing. I can feel it. I want to stop talking about this guy.
“Fine.” Jed pulls his ‘screw you’ face and feigns insult. I know he’s faking his anger. Jed doesn’t know how to get mad at me. He probably doesn’t know how to get mad at anyone. He’s just that kind of a guy. Laid-back and patient to the extreme.
I roll my eyes as he refuses to look at me and then goes a step further by driving his point home. “You just keep scanning those groceries, girl. You just go ahead and earn your minimum wage when you could be charging some rich guy like fifty bucks an hour to surf dem waves.”
I groan and throw my head back to the sky.
Dammit! Why does he have to be right!
Teaching someone to surf would be easy money. Good money.
Fun money.
I give in with a sigh and have to agree with my friend, but it’s not really a way out of Freshmart.
That guy. Mr. Rich Boy. He’ll never go for it. It wasn’t like he was enthusiastic about surfing. When I told him he should try it, he didn’t even look interested. But man, earning money to do what I love would be pretty damn awesome.
The bell rings, reminding me that awesome will just have to wait.
With resigned smiles, we leave our sunny picnic table and head into the gloom of Ryder Bay High School.
Thank God there’s only four weeks to go before summer freedom is ours.
9
Busy Getting Basic
AIDAN
Walton Academy looks like a Spanish monastery with its terra cotta-tiled roof and white walls.
More white.
How have I never noticed this before? It’s like I’m surrounded by it. Every building I hang out in is white. Even the rec center where I teach after-school swimming to elementary kids. The revelation almost stops me in my tracks, which is dumb.
But why?
What makes white so great?
What the hell is so appealing about a white building?
I think about the lime-green house I drove past on Saturday afternoon, when I was avoiding going home. And the run-down pale blue one. And then there was that yellow one with the navy trim. That one screamed vacation home. It looked empty when I drove past but would probably be overflowing with people throughout the summer months.
Ryder Bay always balloons in the summer, its edges getting round and taut as more and more vacationers fill in the spaces.
It’s good for business, no doubt.
It’s actually really good for the travel agency businesses too. When Ryder Bay gets too full, our crowd gets out. Many of the families who live around us will split to Europe, or go on a cruise, for the summer. We go every other year, so it means this year we’ll be kicking it in Ryder Bay for the summer.
Sigh. I don’t want to think about it.
It was the end of last summer that Savannah and I got together. She’d been stuck in Ryder Bay since her dad had to work at the hospital—he’s a doctor—and she had to look after her siblings, Scarlett and Louis. I’d returned from our beach holiday before Skylar had. My family had spent two weeks at a luxury resort in Mexico, while Skylar and her parents had flown to France for a month. So Savannah and I hung out, like every spare second, until Skylar returned.
Then two days bef
ore school began, she kissed me.
My junior year had been nothing but a sweet ride, until it wasn’t. Until I started losing races to Simon and then Craig. Did they just get stronger and faster than me while I stayed stagnant?
Is that why Savannah got over me? Because I was no longer the best?
Walking up the wide steps, I glance left in time to see Grayson disappear into the middle school area before I veer right into the high school. Next year he’ll be roaming these halls with me, forced to wear a navy-blue tie with a crisp white shirt and blue blazer with yellow trim. Apparently dressing like some elite businessman will make us learn better.
Grayson will hate it.
I snicker. Right now, he’s still rocking the cotton polo shirt. I can’t wait to see him get pinged for having his white shirttail sticking out as he swaggers around the high school. He doesn’t know what’s gonna hit him.
Open archways span the outer corridors, leading off to green patches of lawn. The edges are beautifully trimmed, the vibrant grass begging you to lie down and take a nap in the sun.
Man, that’s tempting.
I stayed up way too late last night playing Fortnite. It was lucky I didn’t have practice this morning. Coach let us have the morning off, and our practice schedule would be pretty light for the rest of the year.
It was nice to sleep in for a change, but I’m still toasted.
I turn away from the grass and head into the school building.
My locker is on the first floor, second corridor on the right. As I round the corner, my gut sinks.
Craig is standing near my locker, surrounded by girls…and a few guys. Skylar is hanging off his arm like a piece of jewelry, and he’s flashing his silver and gold medals like he was the only team member to get any.
I spot Simon as he’s walking towards me, rolling his eyes. The guy’s actually a little taller than me, overtook me during spring break. I don’t mind so much. If Craig had beaten me on that score too, I’d be struggling with it.
Simon didn’t bring any medals to school today. Knowing him, they’re probably piled away in some drawer that he’ll never open again.
“Hey, man.” He raises his chin at me. “You all right?”
I nod.
“We missed you at the party.”
I snicker and shake my head. “You probably didn’t even notice I wasn’t there.”
“Yeah, I did. I needed a ride home,” he jokes, nudging me with his elbow.
I give him a gentle shove, then point down the corridor at Craig’s arrogant ass. “Unbelievable.”
“I know. Like the guy’s head isn’t big enough already.”
We both laugh and start moving towards our teammate.
I don’t really want to go that direction. Savannah’s down there, hovering behind Skylar like her personal assistant.
I want to catch her eye, smile at her, give her a little wink like I used to.
But apparently I’m not allowed to do that anymore, because she’s no longer my girl.
I stare at her anyway until her gaze flutters past me. She bites her bottom lip and looks to the floor, her long brown hair falling off her shoulder. I wish I could brush it back the way I used to. I love her hair. It’s thick but soft, with this sweet wave to it. My fingers tingle with longing. I clench my fists at my side and flinch when the bell rings above my head.
Students disperse like ants breaking formation, but I keep my eyes on Savannah while she waits for her best friend.
Skylar detaches herself from Craig, but not before giving him a hot kiss that we all have to witness. Savannah’s cheeks flush pink and she looks away, tapping her finger against her arm. She’s always so patient and loyal with Skylar. They’ve been tight ever since middle school.
“Joined at the hip.” My mom always laughs about it.
When Skylar pulls away, Craig gives her a hungry smile and butt tap that makes me want to punch him. He glances up and spots me glaring at him, then raises his chin in greeting.
“Where was your loser ass on Saturday, De Beer?”
I shrug and mutter, “Got busy.”
“Got basic,” he counters before sauntering off with an arrogant swagger that makes me want to double punch him.
“Morning, sunshine.” Skylar winks and waves her fingers at me.
I grunt and turn for my locker while she giggles, then links her arm with Savannah’s and struts off down the hallway.
I wrench open my locker, quickly changing my books and trying to ignore Craig’s dig. He’s just pissed off that I didn’t show up to his party. Offended that I don’t want to worship the ground he walks on and kiss his heels like everyone else at this school.
Simon gives me a pained smile that doesn’t make me feel any better, so I flick my locker shut and force a grin. “Catch you later, man. I gotta hit the head before class.”
We’d usually walk the same direction, as our homerooms are pretty close together, but I choose the most out-of-the-way bathroom I can, desperate for space.
Space from everyone trying to figure out what’s wrong with me.
Space from the reminder that school is not the same cool place it used to be.
10
Where’s a Good Salesman When You Need One?
HARLEY
As soon as school gets out, I yell goodbye to Jed and jump on my skateboard. The poor sucker is heading off to work, but lucky me is heading to the beach.
I skate home as fast as I can and am relieved to see that Mom’s car is not in the driveway. She must have left for Sugar Pop already. Sometimes she does an earlier shift there.
Suits me. I don’t want to have to contend with her anyway. Not when there’s a sweet swell and the waves are calling me. I snuck a look at the surf report during last period. I don’t want to be wasting precious time out of the water.
Dumping my backpack on the floor in my room, I ignore the thunk of books hitting the scratched wooden boards. Homework can wait. I throw off my clothes, leaving them in a pile on the bathroom floor, and shimmy into my orange bathing suit. Out of all my swimwear, it’s the driest one hanging over the towel bar.
Rushing through the house, I don’t bother with my wetsuit and throw on a rash guard instead. It’s warmer than it was over the weekend, and the lighter fabric should be all right at this time of day. I yank a yellow towel off the line and run for my skateboard.
A smile is stretching across my face as I power away from my house, my phone, my school bag—anything that ties me to the pressures of real life.
All I care about right now is the ocean.
I can smell the salty air before I reach the sand. It usually takes me about fifteen minutes to board to the beach, unless I choose to go the long way. I don’t do that too often, but the hill that goes from the north and bends around the coastline is pretty damn fun to ride.
Not today, though.
I just need to get into the water.
After a day of sitting in a stuffy classroom, I’m ready to burn off some energy.
Dumping my board and towel in the sand, I hitch my shortboard under my arm and run to the water. As soon as that salty spray hits my skin, I feel instantly better about life.
I spend a couple of hours surfing alongside a guy with shoulder-length dreadlocks. We don’t say anything to each other, just share a couple of friendly smiles and respect each other’s space. The waves are consistent enough to keep me going, but they start to die off as the winds change. I catch a piddly one in before finally calling it quits and heading up the beach.
Axel and his crew haven’t been around this afternoon.
Conditions must be better at Hatchet Cove. That’s my guess anyway.
It’s definitely more peaceful without them around dominating the waves. I glance over my shoulder and notice Mr. Dreads has given up as well. He’s walking north up the beach. I don’t know his name, but I’ve definitely seen him around. I think he works on the beach somewhere. I’ve seen him talking to the head lifeguard, but
I haven’t seen him in a uniform, so he must do something else near the water.
Rubbing my face dry, I wrap my towel around myself and perch on the top of my board. The small amount of cloud cover on the horizon is going to make for a stunning sunset. It’s tempting to stay and watch it.
Stretching out my legs, I bury my wet toes in the sand and figure I might as well. Nothing but homework is drawing me home. Dinner can be leftovers from the stir-fry I made last night, unless Mom’s eaten it. I roll my eyes and hope the amount of vegetables I shoved in it will have been enough to put her off.
With a contented sigh, I gaze out at the water. The pier is a crooked finger pointing out to sea—I always like to think of it that way—like an old lady telling us to not miss the vibrant orange ball that dips below the horizon each night.
I rest my forearms on my knees and link my fingers. My insides feel warm and happy as I watch the sky slowly change.
A couple walks along the beach, their feet splashing in the water while their two kids run ahead, laughing as they drag a long tail of seaweed behind them.
Other than that, the beach is kind of quiet tonight.
I don’t mind so much, although it’s a shame that people are missing out on this sunset.
Glancing right, I spot a tall figure walking my way. He’s dressed in running gear and must be doing some kind of resistance training on the sand. I always admire that. Although this guy’s not running, he’s walking. Must have run out of steam.
I gaze back at the ocean but can see the guy out of the corner of my eye. He’s walking towards me still. Like directly at me.
My eyebrows dip together, and I glance back to get a proper look at him.
Oh crap, it’s pretty rich boy.
I swallow and try to pretend like I haven’t seen him. But he makes it impossible when he walks all the way up to me and stands at the end of my board.
“Hey.” He gives me a sad smile and I know I have to be nice to him.
I just wish my heart wouldn’t pinch so tight at the idea of talking to him again.
