“You look so relaxed, so natural, a real Manaluan.”
“That’s the highest compliment you could ever give me. Thank you, Kaila.”
“You’re welcome. Can I get you something?”
“Surprise me,” I tell her and take a seat while she serves some other customers.
While I’m waiting, I do my Chicago check-in. It’s been a week since I’ve done it, which is the longest I have ever gone since I’ve been here. I pull out my phone, and turn on my IP-scrambling VPN.
First on my list is to look at Renée and Darcy’s Instagram accounts. There are a couple of new photos on each, doing fun things around Chicago. Darcy with her girlfriend Lucy at Hamilton. Lucky! And they both posted pictures of being at the Cubs game together with a group of people. I bite down on my lip and close my eyes as I picture myself being there with them. It would be nice, that’s for sure, but that’s not my life now…and for a very specific reason.
I close Instagram and look at the news alerts for Brandon Harper. There’s always positive news on him. The first link I click on is about him and his family investing in a restoration project of a historic building on the south side. It doesn’t provide enough clues about his whereabouts or that he had to be physically present to do anything about it. I dig a little deeper past the other business dealings and find a piece on a charity gala he attended. The article opens up with a picture of him at it that fills my screen. Seeing his slimy smile sends shivers down my spine, and his dark eyes terrify me down to my core. The article says the event was two weekends ago.
Shit.
That’s not as reassuring as I would like. It says he attended with a popular socialite, a girl who once said she envied me because he asked me out, and proceeded to make fun of me behind my back when she heard about my accusations. She told people I was making up stories about him because he rejected me. That poor thing. I tried to warn anyone that would listen, but most people in Chicago didn’t want to believe me. They couldn’t face that their perceptions could be wrong. The only ones who had my back were Renée and Darcy.
Even though he took another woman to the gala, it doesn’t reassure me. He dated many women while he continued to harass me. That never deterred him, and he almost always tried to use it to make me jealous as if it could possibly. If anything, it made me want to rescue them.
Usually, the news is enough to make me feel confident he’s still in Chicago, but it doesn’t make me feel that way today, so I have to do something I hate doing. I go to his Facebook and log in under my false account, a pretty girl named Melanie Ambrose with a stock photo I found somewhere. He was more than happy to accept that friend request. Thank God he never actually tried to contact Melanie for anything. I wouldn’t be able to stomach it. This is bad enough.
I navigate to his page and there, in plain black text on a white background, is the following post from this morning: I think I’m going to burn it all down this weekend. There’s no indication of where that post was made from and all the comments—there are over a hundred—are all well-wishers encouraging him to have a good time and that he deserves to have a great weekend.
That’s not what it means to me. Not even a little bit.
I stand up and dash for the door.
“Audrey?” Kaila calls out, but at that moment I forget that’s my alias.
When I get home, I triple-check that all my doors and windows are locked, and I start packing my stuff while tears slip down my cheeks.
How will I ever tell Jake that I have to leave?
How can I actually leave him?
It’s not possible. I can’t do it. He will protect me. I know it.
I take a seat on the bed with my go-bag. I’ve had it packed since the day I moved here.
“Breathe,” I coach myself.
Talking myself out of a panic is easy. I rationalize all the things that Brandon’s post could mean. Maybe all his so-called friends saw it for what it is. Maybe he’s moved on, and he plans to have a great weekend. I’ve built a beautiful new life, one that I love. This is my life now and I’m not going to back down. I’m going to face it the same way I met that wave today, with everything I’ve got.
Jake
Eight footers are breaking along Manalua’s beach. It’s drawn quite a crowd of surfers from throughout the town and the county. It’s crowded. We’re renting boards and selling gear like ponchos on a rainy day. I kind of wish that Audrey was still here to lend a hand like she’s been doing, but she ran off to get coffee and take a shower before tonight’s bonfire.
If I know my girl, she’ll be back soon to watch me surf. She’s doesn’t know that I know she’s watching, but I always do. I’ve known it since the first time she’s done it. I couldn’t miss that raven-haired beauty anywhere.
“Hey man, do you teach people how to surf?”
The question comes from a guy roughly my age, wearing expensive sunglasses, and who doesn’t have any kind of tan or burn to speak of. He’s definitely a tourist.
“Nope, sorry bro.”
“Really? I’ve heard you teach people.”
“Jesus, Kaila,” I mumble. She must think I need the business or something. “Sorry, I think you got some bad information.”
“Come on, bro. I can pay you triple. I want to learn to surf to impress my girl.”
“Let me give you a piece of advice. It doesn’t just happen magically. It takes quite a bit of practice to even get up on your board.”
“Well, let’s get started then.”
“Even if I did teach lessons, which I don’t, it’s way too busy and I can’t close my shop.”
“I’ll give you a thousand dollars for an hour of your time. Surely, that’s got to be worth closing your shop for.”
Something rubs me the wrong way about him. “What’s your name, bro?”
“Frank,” he answers swiftly.
“Frank?”
“Yeah, why?”
I place my hands flat against the counter. “You don’t look like a Frank, that’s all.”
“What do I look like?”
“Like a Brandon,” I say and watch him carefully. The guy doesn’t flinch.
“Well, my name is Francis. Francis Harper. Got a problem with that? Do you need to see my ID?”
“That would be great, thanks,” I tell him, and the guy fishes his ID out his wallet and hands it over. Sure enough, it says Francis Harper and that he’s from Colorado.
That would explain the lack of a tan.
God, I must be going out of mind about Audrey’s situation. She’s got me spooked.
“A thousand dollars?” I ask again.
“Yes, a thousand dollars,” he says, completely even-keeled.
The money is too good to pass up. “Okay, come back at four. That’s when my brother gets here, and he can keep the shop open.”
He nods and flashes me the shaka before taking off.
“Haole,” I mutter, which isn’t a term I don’t often use, but he fits the bill.
When Sam arrives after school, he looks distressed. “What’s up?” I ask him.
“Those douchebags are relentless. They keep causing trouble, and keep trying to rope me into it. I put my foot down with them today and told them I’m completely out and to stop talking to me.”
“How did that go?” I ask.
He tosses his book bag in the corner with little care. “They were rude assholes, no big surprise. We’ll see what happens.”
“Better be nothing,” I warn.
“Yeah, we’ll see,” he says again and starts stacking boards.
“Hey, I’m giving this mainlander a surfing lesson in a few minutes.”
“I thought you didn’t teach people? Besides, you know, your kissy-kissy girlfriend,” he says and starts making smooching sounds.
I kick some sand at him. “Very funny. I usually don’t, but the dude offered me a grand to do it. He wants to impress his girlfriend. I told him that’s not possible since it takes tons of practice to bec
ome even slightly good.”
“What’s wrong with you? Why would you argue with him? Just take the money and paddle out there with him.”
I sigh. “Yeah, that’s what I’m going to do.”
Four rolls around and my new student is there right on the dot. He’s a good-looking guy who’s got more money than sense, but whatever. I go over the basics, skipping right over the lesson I gave Audrey about respecting the ancient art and origin of surfing. This kind of asshole will never appreciate anything like that.
We get out on the water after some basic pop-up practice and paddle out. The waves are not being gentle, and even though I’ve tried to tell Frank that fourteen times, he doesn’t care. He’s eager to get out there. Once we’re sitting on our boards, he starts talking and asking me a lot of questions. None of which are about surfing technique.
“Do you have other students,” he asks.
“No man, I told you that I don’t usually teach tourists.”
“But you teach locals?”
I guess I did infer that. “Sometimes,” I tell him, not at all interested in talking about Audrey with some random guy.
“My girl has a house here, so I’m kind of like a local.”
“Your girlfriend lives in Manalua?”
“She does,” he says. “Maybe you know her.”
“I know pretty much everybody,” I tell him and start combing over all the women I know that might date a douchebag like this.
“Her name is Sara. She’s really pretty, with light brown hair.”
“It doesn’t ring any bells.”
“I’m glad to hear that. I wouldn’t want her to run off with another guy. Who knows what I would do if she did,” he says, and I feel a shiver run down me. Something isn’t right, not at all.
The high-pitched squeal of the shark siren blasts and startles me to high heaven. “Shit, we’ve got to go,” I tell him.
“What is that?”
“Shark,” I answer, and start paddling back to shore with everyone else. “Come on.”
“I didn’t get my lesson,” he argues and pulls up beside me.
“And you won’t get it. Don’t worry about paying me. I don’t want your money and I’m sorry, but I can’t teach you.”
He tries to protest, but I won’t have it. I paddle faster and hope he follows my lead. If not, he’s on his own, because I refuse to linger in dangerous waters.
Audrey
So, collecting wood for a bonfire isn’t something this city girl ever thought she’d be doing. Another who’d a thunk it to add to my ever-growing list. I’m having a hard time finding suitable firewood, and I’m starting to worry that tonight’s going to be a bust and it will be all my fault when a truck pulls up with a bunch of chopped wood and planks. I look over at Jake, Kaila, Hideo, and Sam. They’re all laughing at me.
“You guys!” I can’t believe they were messing with me, but I couldn’t be happier that they are. I think I’m fitting in.
“I’m sorry, newbie, I couldn’t resist when Kaila suggested it,” Jake says, meeting me halfway. He cups my cheeks and kisses me. I kiss him back and pinch his butt.
“Ow,” he says, and his eyes flare. “Oh, it’s on, newbie.” He chases me all over the beach, but I’m no match for his long legs. He catches me in no time and we tumble down into the sand together. It doesn’t bother me one bit that I’m going to have sand in my hair and in my bra all night long because I’m a full-on sucker for his love. He tickles me and nibbles on me and whispers into my ear that he loves me more than he loves Mabel.
“Who’s Mabel?”
“My surfboard,” he answers like it’s a no-brainer.
I make sure he can see me when I roll my eyes. “What a dork.”
“You love me, too,” he teases.
“More than all the eighties movies ever made.”
“Dear lord, are you proposing?” he teases, and I shove him. His lips meet mine once again, and the fire ignited between us rivals any beach bonfire.
“Get a room,” Hideo yells at us.
Jake brushes some hair back from my forehead and looks down into my eyes. “Let’s listen to Hideo and skip this tonight.”
“No, please, I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”
I’ve got an excellent pout because he totally caves. “Fine,” he says with a sigh. “But for the record, I’d much rather spend the evening alone with you.”
“Want to come home with me tonight?” I ask as if that isn’t a foregone conclusion.
He plants a kiss on my lips and dips his tongue into my mouth to answer.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” I say, suddenly feeling breathless and needy for him. Damn, why didn’t I take him up on his offer?
We make our way over to the bonfire, hand-in-hand, as the sun begins its descent into the sea. It’s a lively crowd tonight. Jake says it’s because of the great surf today. As he introduces me to new people, he keeps his arm around my waist, never quite leaving my side and kissing my head every now and again. We get caught up in a conversation with Hideo, and I love watching how Jake and his best friend get along. Mostly they tease each other, but it’s out of total love, and it’s hilarious. It’s too bad that Aimi had to work; she balances everything out.
“Hey dude, you will not believe this douchebag who came around today asking for surfing lessons,” Jake says. I take a sip of my beer, not thinking too much of it.
“Kaila still sending people your way?” Hideo asks.
“She must be, although I can’t exactly complain about that,” Jake says and squeezes my hip.
“I bet Audrey has some complaints,” Hideo jokes.
“Oh, you know it, putting up with this guy,” I say and elbow him gently.
“You weren’t complaining last night,” Jake retorts, and I elbow him not so gently this time. “Okay, okay. Anyway, I tell the guy that I don’t give lessons, and he offers me a thousand bucks to take him out. Says he want to impress his girl.”
My heartbeat doubles in speed and my eyes blink a few times involuntarily. It’s such a physical reaction that I’m not expecting, and I’m not even sure why I had it, but something about that offer bothers me.
“He was a real creep, too. Just really rubbed me the wrong way.”
“What was his name?” I ask, desperate to know.
“Don’t worry, newbie,” he whispers. “I asked his name and checked his ID. It wasn’t him.”
Hideo rubs his chin. “So, did you do it? I’d totally do it.”
“Yeah, I finally agreed to do it, but he was a terrible listener and really fucking arrogant.”
I don’t say it out loud, but it still sounds like Brandon. I know this is probably my paranoia getting the best of me, but something about this guy’s interaction with my boyfriend doesn’t seem right.
“How did the lesson go?” I choke out.
“We barely got started. The shark siren went off, and we had to paddle in. I told him that I wasn’t interested in teaching him anyway and that he didn’t have to pay me. I’m sure he called me some nasty names, but I didn’t stick around to hear them.” Jake must notice how bothered I am by all this because he goes on. “I told you, there are sharks every now and again, usually around the shelf. They typically get detected, and we’re warned. I can see the worry written all over your face.”
It’s not the sharks I’m worried about. It’s something much more vicious, but I don’t want to go there right now with Jake. I need to figure out if my mind is in overdrive because of Brandon’s social media post about burning it all down, or if that psycho has actually found me.
We carry on, talking to friends, and I work on making new ones, but I can’t relax. I keep looking over my shoulder, and I get the eerie feeling that I’m being watched. It occurs to me that I’m not the only one in Brandon’s line of fire, but Jake is now, too. When I was dealing with this in Chicago, I didn’t date at all. I wouldn’t consider putting someone else in the middle of my problem. It was bad en
ough with Renée and Darcy. Now, I feel like the most selfish woman in the world. I should have never started a relationship until I was certain he could be contained.
Out of nowhere, someone shouts, “Fire!” It doesn’t register, because we’re standing around a bonfire. There are more shouts and screams, and suddenly people are running down the beach and grabbing for Jake as they go, and suddenly I’m running, too.
Not even fifty yards away, a structure is on fire. My first thought is that it’s another bonfire. It does not compute what else could be burning. Flames are shooting into the sky and embers are dancing around like frantic fireflies.
I hear Jake’s name said a lot, but he’s frozen in place, the firelight casting an orange glow over his strained face. I’ve never seen him look so dismayed. That’s when it dawns on me. We’re looking at The Hut as it goes up in flames.
And it’s at that moment that I know without a doubt that Brandon is here, and that he was the one that offered Jake a thousand dollars for the lesson. And that he was the one that’s done this truly despicable thing. People around us are in motion, and there are sirens in the distance. I hold onto Jake’s arm and watch in horror.
Sam is in tears, screaming profanity about the guys that did this. He thinks it’s the group of vandals he’s been trying to get away from.
Hideo is trying to calm him down. “We’ll find them and they’ll pay for what they’ve done.”
Jake nods. “I didn’t think they’d go this far in their retaliation, but apparently they want to throw their lives away.”
No. This is wrong. I know it’s Brandon.
Hideo shakes his head. “What a bunch of idiots. I’m sorry, man. We’ll rebuild it. You’ve got insurance, right?”
“Yeah.” It’s all Jake can muster and he throws his arms around me.
I’m on the verge of telling Jake my theory, but realize that if I do, he’ll get even more involved in a situation that he shouldn’t be in. I don’t want him to get any more hurt than he already is. I have to leave Manalua, I have no other choice. I hold him against me while my heart breaks for him, for me, and for what could have been.
Between The Waves Page 10
