Always Summer (6 page)

It’s definitely back to reality. No more
seashores stories or masquerade masks. No more ukuleles and
browsing expensive vendor booths for the perfect souvenir for
Emily, the only one who’d truly appreciate it. We’re back in
Crescent Cove with Colby’s parents on TV and Miles on crutches.

We settle in between the two blonde surfers,
Topher next to Miles and myself next to Colby. Then Miles hits
play.

“I’m joined today by Linda and Paul Burks,
the parents of surf star Colby Taylor,” a girl’s voice says, even
though the camera remains on the parental units.

Colby’s mom sits stoically, dressed in a
business suit and a pearl necklace. His father looks less
professional, simply wearing a polo shirt and khakis. I expected
him to look the part of a lawyer or businessman. Maybe he’s hoping
the downtrodden father act will gain him sympathy.

The camera zooms out, capturing their
interviewer on screen. I recognize her. The blonde in the high
heels.

“Oh my God. Isn’t she the one who had the
interview with you for SurfTube? Bridget something?” I ask, turning
toward Colby.

“Yeah, four inch heels in the sand? That’s
her. Bridget Parker,” he confirms. “What a bitch.”

Bridget tucks her hair behind her ear and
angles herself toward the camera, as if she’s trying to get her
best side while conducting the interview.

“It’s been a rough few weeks for you guys,
understandably, and I appreciate your taking the time to sit down
with us and help surf fans and our community understand exactly
what’s going on,” she says, giving them a sympathetic smile.

Mrs. Burks is the first to speak. “Thank you
for giving us an opportunity to explain things,” she says. “It’s
been such an emotional time for us, and I never dreamed we’d be in
this situation. Although we’re relieved that our son is alive and
well, we’re heartbroken over how this has played out.”

The creases under her eyes crush together as
she squeezes her eyes closed, as if she’s in massive pain and
trying to brave her way through it.

“Bullshit,” Colby mutters.

Bridget clears her throat. “If you don’t
mind, we’ll begin with a few questions,” she says, waiting for a
nod before moving forward. “Is it true that you don’t support your
son’s career choice?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” Mr. Burks says. “He’s
done well for himself, as anyone can see. It may not have been the
path we’d have chosen for him because it’s not something you can
fully depend on, but he’s clearly talented and was able to make a
name for himself.”

His parents continue a well-rehearsed speech
about how they’ve begged and pleaded with their son to let them be
involved in his life, but he’s consistently shut them out.

“We offered to move our lives to
California,” his mom says, fighting back a sob. “I would leave my
life behind to be part of his if only he’d let me. We spent our
life savings trying to find him, and this is how we’re repaid just
for loving our son.”

Colby jumps up from him couch and paces
across the room for a moment before walking over to the kitchen
counter. He keeps his back toward us. Miles pauses the DVR.

We spend about thirty seconds in the eeriest
silence before Colby spins around. “
I
offered to move them
out here, pay for it all,” he says. “I told them I’d made a name
for myself, that I had a career. I’m
somebody
here, even if
no one believes that.
I
offered to fix this, to foot the
bill and buy them a condo on the beach. That was all
me
–
not them.”

Miles and Topher exchange a subtle glance,
but it’s enough to make my paranoia twinge just a bit. To anyone
else, it would’ve been nothing. But I know the Hooligan bond runs
deep – deeper than the Drenaline Surf brotherhood. I’m not sure of
a percentage, but there’s a part of them that doesn’t believe
him.

“Turn that off,” Colby says, pointing toward
his flat screen. “I can’t deal with watching it again.”

Miles grabs the remote and powers the TV
off. The three of us remain on the couch, awkwardly trying to
figure out what to say, until Miles finally looks over at
Topher.

“I’m starving. You wanna drive me somewhere
to get some real food?” he asks.

I don’t look back at Colby because I’m
certain he’s shaking his head in some kind of disgusted fashion
because Miles does nothing but complain. Maybe I should convince
Emily to get an apartment with Miles, for everyone’s sake.

After moving my luggage from his truck to
Colby’s living room, Topher gives me a quick kiss and runs back to
his truck to leave with his best friend. I don’t mind, though. I
know the Hooligans aren’t fully sold on all this Colby Taylor
drama.

“Are you okay?” I ask, leaning on the
granite countertop bar in Colby’s kitchen.

He stares at his refrigerator at the picture
of him with Shark on the boat. I remember him telling me about that
day, how Topher and Reed were with them. I wonder if Topher feels
torn in the mix of all of this. His loyalty lies with the
Hooligans, with Horn Island and all of its grit, but he trusted
Shark, and Shark believed in Colby.

“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 the 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.

“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.