The Season of You & Me (18 page)

“You know, there’s another beach farther down that you can see the sunset better from; they have Crest Haven diamonds too. Why did you want to come here?” he asked.

“I want a better memory here,” I said.

“I can appreciate that,” he said.

“That first night you saw me, I threw a necklace that Gavin gave me into the water, kind of a symbolic gesture of good riddance.”

“You threw a necklace into the water?”

“Yeah, and then I tried to get it back, but it was gone, and that’s why I was crying when you saw me. It all hit me—that I’d lost him, the necklace, that I left home for the summer and didn’t know anyone. I felt really alone. Then you asked me if something was wrong with my bike.”

He laughed. “I couldn’t imagine why you were crying, but I thought you were a little too upset over your bike. I knew it had to be something bigger.”

I leaned my head on his shoulder. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“My father said . . . this is where you had your accident, in the parking lot. If you don’t want to tell me, it’s okay, but I’d really like to know.”

He took a breath. “I mostly don’t like to talk about it because it’s my own fault.”

I put my hand over his again.

“Nick went through a parkour phase and we used to kid him about it, because it looked so lame, you know. There was this parkour club at school, and it’s not like the kind you see on YouTube with people flipping off of buildings.”

“I’ve seen some of that, looks insane.”

“Right, but not what Nick was doing. This was real basic stuff, like hopping over parking meters, garbage cans, Dumpsters. So one night, we were hanging over on the far end of the parking lot, smoking pot, chilling, and Nick showed us this trick he was trying to perfect. He jumped between the Dumpsters, then flipped around a tree branch, like pulled himself over and landed upright. It didn’t look half bad, but we couldn’t tell him that, because that would be admitting he’d actually done something right. Then he dared me to try it. So I did. I jumped the Dumpsters, but when I reached for the tree branch my foot got caught and I fell. If I’d gone with it, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten hurt, or would’ve just smashed my face or something, but I tried to correct myself midflight and landed on my back.”

“Did you know then?”

“Yeah, I did. I knew it was bad. I felt sort of a crack and a zap, then nothing, and the guys were laughing, because it probably looked hysterical, you know, me flat out. We were all stoned, and it was kind of unreal. And, well, that was that.”

I didn’t know what to say. I let his story sink in.

“I thought you said it was nothing exciting,” I said, elbowing him.

He laughed. “You know, it would have made an epic fail reel, if it didn’t turn out to be so . . . tragic, I guess.”

“Bryan, I’m so sorry that happened to you.”

“Me too, but . . . I don’t feel tragic now, Cass. It’s taken me a while to say that, but I don’t. I mean, this is life, right? I’m sitting on the beach with a beautiful girl, must have done something right.”

“Bry.”

I leaned in to kiss him.

“You’re going to miss the sunset,” he whispered.

I turned, nestled against him. He slung an arm around me. The red wafer had barely kissed the water on the horizon line and painted the sky a dazzling orange that faded into periwinkle as it turned dusky.

“Oh, wait,” I said, reaching for my phone, ready to take a picture.

“Is this to show someone on StalkMe that you’re having the best time in the world without them?” His mouth was by my ear.

“No, not really,” I said.

He nuzzled my cheek. I turned to him.

“Then how about just taking a picture here,” he said, gently touching the spot between my eyebrows.

“I don’t get what you mean,” I said.

He kissed the spot.

“I mean, how about making this new, better memory just for you and me.”

He took the phone out of my hand and placed it on the blanket. His hair tickled my cheek as he kissed my neck, then my earlobe. I closed my eyes, trying to commit it all to memory, the color of the sky, the purplish tint of the water, the sound of the waves gently lapping at the shore, the feeling of his lips against my skin. When he finally kissed me full-on, I didn’t need to see anymore because I felt it. The sun melted in my mouth and shot through my fingertips.

SIP N’ FREEZE WAS PACKED. NICK WAS FINALLY
christening his new slush flavor, the Bardot Shaka Blast. Even on a night crowded with tourists, he’d somehow commandeered five picnic tables on the side, set apart by fake tiki torches.

Tori and Cass passed out slush samples to the people waiting in line, and Nick, who wore an “I’m Famous in New Jersey” tee and a crown lei, took pictures with anyone who asked. There was a rumor that the local paper was sending someone to do a story. Had to hand it to the guy, he was good at the mascot/front man thing.

“I’m so glad they changed the name of that slush. There was no way in hell I was ordering a Nick Bardot,” Wade said. “Think she’ll ever get over the Emma thing? She’s been weird
since the party. Civil, but weird.”

“Did you even offer to help clean up?” I asked.

“Yeah, I did. She wouldn’t let me in after you guys left. Then at camp it was like nothing ever happened—she didn’t say a word about it, all business.”

“Dude, I don’t know, but you could certainly step up your game—making her a picture with cereal wasn’t exactly a shining moment.”

Wade clapped a hand over his eyes. “See, when it really matters, I suck at this.”

Cass walked slowly toward us, carrying four small cups together in her hands. She intentionally bumped Tori and motioned for her to follow. Tori took two from her and they came over.

Wade might have been down, but I was the fucking sun, moon, and stars as Cass sat on the end of the bench and placed the slush sample in front of me. She brushed her lips across mine, and we laced our fingers together. We’d become inseparable since we made our better memory at Crescent Beach. It was heaven.

She pulled out her phone.

“Why don’t we skip the scavenger hunt tonight,” I said.

“C’mon, we can multi-task,” she said, smiling. I was toast. I’d do anything for that smile.

“Fine,” I said.

“I think the clue has to do with this place, listen.
Choose
this flavor, but don’t have it raw—a formidable opponent, might be a southpaw.
”

“What do you think?” Tori asked.

“I think Mr. Beckett was bored out of his mind and purposely came up with something that no one could win,” Wade said.

“Wait, read it again,” I said. Cass read it.

“It’s an ice-cream flavor, don’t you think?” I said.

“Yes!” Cass answered. “I’m going to take a picture of the menu board with the ice-cream flavors so we can go over them; be right back.” She shot up and practically mowed down Nick.

“Oops, sorry,” she said as she continued toward the front of Sip N’ Freeze.

“I’m so moving to their team.” Tori looked at Wade, who got suddenly quiet. He grabbed the slush sample and was about to drink it.

“Dude, no, I have to make a toast,” Nick said.

“It’s going to melt.”

Nick looked at me. “Matty isn’t around. Did he say anything about when he and Jake were getting here?”

“He didn’t mention a time. I’m sure he wouldn’t miss it.”

“Nick, hello, you have to start, these slushes are melting,” Tori said. He grabbed one of the extra cups off the table, put his fingers in between his teeth, and whistled. Everyone looked at him. He moved into the center of the tables
and stood up on one of the bench seats. Cass came back and snapped a picture of him before putting down the phone and picking up her sample cup.

“Dudes, you know this is a long time coming. I had my first slush at Sip N’ Freeze when I was seven years old, tried so many combos, but it was not until last year, when they had a special flavor—Cinnamon Red Hot—that I fell in love and found the perfect match.”

“Did he really just use the word
love
?” Tori whispered.

“So tonight, this is a celebration of the newly christened Bardot Shaka Blast.” He lifted up the cup. “Long may it give the fine people and visitors of Crest Haven brain freeze.” Nick threw a shaka sign and howled before downing the cup.

We all followed. Cass and Wade both had their hands up to their foreheads. Tori took a small sip, winced, then put it down again.

Jake Matson’s silver pickup came sweeping into the parking lot and pulled into the last open spot. Matt hopped out of the passenger side and they sauntered across the asphalt. Cass was already talking scavenger-hunt clues again.

“I bet it’s cake batter!” she said. “Or maybe brownie batter?”

“Cake,” I agreed. “Only now what? How does all of that fit together? I’m starting to agree with Wade.”

“Hey, what did we miss?” Matt asked, sidling up to us. His eyes landed on Cass’s and my clasped hands. He raised his eyebrows in surprise or approval, I couldn’t tell. He gave me
an almost imperceptible nod and smile.

Approval.

“Nick just christened his new flavor,” Tori said, handing Matt a cup. He took it.

“I thought you were going to wait,” he said.

“They were melting, bro, had to do the toast. By the way, Tori, thanks,” said Nick.

“For what?”

“All your kitchen experiments have honed my taste buds. Well, that and the ‘do you want to be a slug all your life’ lectures—the answer is no. Thank you.”

Tori raised her eyebrows at him, and I braced myself for her usual sarcastic comeback, but her face softened. “You’re welcome, Slush King.”

“So have we had enough?” Cass whispered in my ear.

“God, yes,” I said, catching a kiss before she pulled away.

“Are you guys heading out?” Nick asked.

“Yeah,” I said.

He and Matt exchanged glances.

“Um, hold on,” Nick said. He whispered something to Matt and Jake, and the three of them walked off toward Jake’s truck. There weren’t gone for more than a minute when Wade tapped my shoulder.

“I think they, um, want you to go over there,” Wade said.

“What? Why?” I asked.

All I wanted to do was leave and get horizontal with Cass.
I’d thrown a blanket into the car so we could head to Crescent Beach to look at the stars. Make some more memories. Wade looked at Tori. She sighed.

“They just do, come on,” she said.

I backed away from the table and navigated the parking lot with Cass, Wade, and Tori following close behind. Matt had his hands on his hips, as he and Nick looked over something in the flatbed. They moved apart as we got closer. Nick opened the flatbed and smiled.

“So, um, I thought since tonight was a celebration, it would be a good time to share some of the love, and, well . . . ta-da . . .” He and Matt reached in and pulled out . . .

The quad fish.

My fish.

But it wasn’t my board. At least not the way I remembered it.

There were handles near the top of the board, and the end dipped inward, concave, and it just . . .

Knocked the breath out of my lungs. I should have been stoked. They did this. For me. I looked up at Cass. She smiled, gave my shoulder a squeeze.

“When did you do this?” I asked.

“Dude, look, it’s your board, all tricked out, so you can ride,” Nick said.

“Ah, yeah, I see that.”

Matt fidgeted. “I wanted to do something for you. I didn’t think—well, I knew if I asked you, you’d say no.”

“But you did it anyway,” I said.

He grabbed the board out of Nick’s hands and put it back in the flatbed.

“I’m sorry, I just thought if you saw it, you’d want to give it a try,” he said. “Bry, we want to help you.”

“And if I don’t want your help? What if I wanted to sell it? What if I wanted to put it on the wall in my room? What if I wanted to burn it? You . . . you just had no right to take it without asking me.”

I turned to Wade. “Did you know about this?”

He pressed his lips together, nodded.

“Bryan, we thought—”

“No, you didn’t think, because if you did . . . you wouldn’t have done this.” I wheeled around, determined to get as far away from the board as I could. I couldn’t breathe. My car. Once I got to the Charger I’d be okay. Cass followed.

When we got to the car, I saw that someone had parked their big, stupid rust-colored Hummer over the diagonal lines that designated my space as handicap parking. The vehicle wasn’t exactly in my spot, but there wasn’t enough room for me to get to the driver’s side door. I closed my eyes.

“Bry, man, I didn’t think—” Wade was next to me.

“Did I ever say I wanted to surf? Did those words come out of my mouth? I said maybe. I said someday. I don’t get why you don’t understand that.”

My voice was loud, and the others from the party were now
looking over. It felt like the whole line was looking over at me too. An older guy with a beer gut and tan cargo shorts shuffled out of the line. The alarm dinged on the Hummer.

“I’m outta here.” I wheeled my way through the parking lot, no idea where I was headed. I’d get the Charger later. I pushed farther away from the lights of Sip N’ Freeze without looking back.

“Hey, wait.”

Cass.

She crouched down next to me, touched my arm. Her look was soft, sincere. Did she know how much it meant to me that she’d said
I can handle it
? It scared me too. This growing feeling I had for her. I felt like I could tell her anything.

“I thought we were going to look at the stars,” she said.

“I can’t go back there, not right now.”

“Well then, what do you want to do?”

She looked so pretty, smiling at me, hair around her face. This would not end well. I knew it.

What did I want?

I wanted to walk. I wanted to surf. I wanted to feel Cass against me.

“I don’t know.”

“Okay, come on. I have an idea.”

Her idea was a hammock in the yard at Ocean Whispers.

And in spite of everything that had gone down, it was
pretty inspired. Although I had no clue how I was going to get out of the hammock, at the moment, I didn’t care. I could sit there for eternity, my hand in her hair, her fingertips grazing my chest under my shirt.

Back and forth, back and forth, she tickled me. I kissed the top of her head.

We didn’t talk, and I was grateful. The parking-lot scene was fading, felt less jagged. They should have known better than to spring that on me. They should have known how much that board had meant.

“Can I say something?” Cass asked.

“As long as you keep touching me like that,” I said.

She laughed. “Okay.”

She ran her fingers across my chest a few more times before speaking.

“I’m sorry for what happened back there.”

“Cass. You didn’t know about it, did you?”

“No, but hear me out, Bry.” She paused, nestled into me some more. “As an outsider, what I see? Are people who care about you. I don’t think they meant anything by it, other than wanting to see their friend happy. It’s nice, from my point of view anyway. Not everyone has a group of friends like that. I know I don’t.”

I knew I should see it her way, and deep down, some small voice was saying just that. These guys cared about me, wanted to see me succeed—hell, I wanted to succeed, but I couldn’t
imagine what it would feel like to surf with my, well . . . limitations. And to see my board with handles? I hadn’t asked anyone to do that. As much as I knew I needed to move on, I didn’t want to completely forget who I’d been either.

Where I was wasn’t bad, only different.

I had friends, a job, a fast car, a girl touching my skin.

“You’ve got that now,” I whispered.

Cass looked up, scooched closer.

“Have what?”

“A group of friends who care about you.”

She smiled. “So I’m not just a summer girl?”

I pressed my lips against hers, quick, light.

“Never,” I whispered, and kissed her again.

It was midnight by the time I got home. I was about to go through the front way when I heard the scrape of a skateboard. There could only be one person out on the half-pipe this late. I made my way to the yard and wheeled closer to get a look.

Matt.

He had the lights on and was rolling back and forth, pumping hard, kick-turning, and grinding on the coping when he reached the top of each slope. He looked good—he looked damn good actually—but I watched as he wiped out attempting to do a front side one-eighty. He hit the slope hard and rolled down, the board right behind. Ouch.

I slow-clapped to let him know I was there. He jerked his head around, then grinned. He stood up, grabbed the board, and walked over to me.

“How long have you been there?” He sat on the edge of the half-pipe. He had a bottle of Gatorade there, took a swig, and offered me some. I shook my head.

“Long enough to see you wipe out. You were bending your knees too much.”

“You could tell that from there?”

“Yeah, you have to make sure your weight is even, then . . .” I had the urge to get up and show him. “It’s easier to demonstrate than talk out. You should have Nick show you sometime, he was always good at them.”

“He’d be stoked you said that.”

I laughed.

“So, you and Cass, huh?” he said.

“Me and Cass,” I said.

“She seems cool.”

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

“Just so you know, I wasn’t completely down with giving the board to you tonight. I don’t know, Nick’s a good guy; he thought it would somehow make it more meaningful if we did it that way. I talked him out of presenting it to you in front of everyone.”

“Thanks,” I said.

He took another gulp of Gatorade.

“And Matt, thanks. It just, you know, took me by surprise. You’re right, I probably would have said no, and then what? The fish deserves to be in the water, not hanging in a shed.”

“I never rode it, you know.”

I looked at him.

“Okay, maybe once before bringing it in.”

“Maybe you can save up, buy your own.”

“It’s not some shit job, either. Steve did it.”

“Surf-shop Steve?”

“Yep, glassed it himself too. Bryan, you got lots of people pulling for you. We want to help. I don’t know what you’re waiting for. I know you want to do it.”

“It’s not . . . it won’t feel the same.”

“You won’t know until you try.”

“Fine. Before the end of the summer.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”