Truth or Dare (34 page)

Angrily, she shoved the sheet of paper back into Sydney’s file. Why was the darer making her do this? These weren’t her secrets to learn! She knew one thing for sure: Sydney wasn’t the darer. There was no way she would have wanted Caitlin to see this file.

Caitlin flipped furiously through the rest of the papers, skimming each one, but she didn’t find anything that related to her. She was ready to conclude that this was all some cruel joke on the darer’s part when she noticed a pink index card tucked into the very back of the file. Typed onto it was a message.

Angel: You sure do look good when you’re being naughty. I especially liked my photo of you with a flask. But the photo I e-mailed you is even better. And if you don’t take my next dare, I’ll make sure you’re not the only one who sees it.

Caitlin reached automatically for her phone before remembering she hadn’t brought it with her.
A computer.
She needed a computer. Leaping up from the couch, she raced out to the reception area. She knew Dr. Filstone’s computer was password-protected, but she was hoping the receptionist’s wasn’t.

Frantically, she turned the computer on, holding her breath as it flickered to life. Only when the home screen came up—no password necessary—did Caitlin breathe again. Quickly, she opened up her e-mail. There, at the top of her in-box, was an unread message, sent to her by a scrambled e-mail address at 1:13
AM
. Pasted inside the e-mail was a scanned version of a Polaroid photo.

“What…?”
Caitlin breathed. It was a picture she’d never seen before, from the night she and Tenley had spent together in Vegas. They were in their hotel room. Tenley was kissing Harley Hade. Behind her, Caitlin was sprawled on the bed… and
Joey Bakersfield
had his arms around her. On the table in the foreground was a blur of white stuff. Was that
cocaine
?

Caitlin leaned even closer, until her nose was practically touching the computer screen. But no matter how closely she looked at it, she had no memory of that photo being taken. She knew that Joey Bakersfield—who had been in Vegas for some kind of comic-book event—had helped her back to her room that night. That much she’d pieced together from things Tenley had said. But this picture made it look like a whole lot more than that had happened.

At the bottom of the photo was another message.
Do whatever it takes to make sure Tenley is out of the pageant. Or I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re outed as a slut.

Caitlin furiously logged out of her e-mail, her head spinning wildly. Suddenly the office seemed much too small, walls closing in on every
side of her. She had to get out of there. Stuffing the darer’s note into the pocket of her running shorts, she returned Sydney’s file to Dr. Filstone’s filing cabinet and locked it up. Then she bolted. Tossing the keys back under the gnome, she took off running down Art Walk, moving as fast as she could, a headache already forming behind her temples.

The darer wanted her to ruin Tenley’s chance in the pageant. At least she knew for sure now that Tenley wasn’t the darer. She would never jeopardize herself like that. Caitlin felt a rush of guilt at how much she’d doubted Tenley. The darer must have threatened her with something awful. Caitlin kept running. She didn’t notice passing through Echo Boulevard, but suddenly she was back on Ocean Drive, jogging alongside the beach. In the distance, waves rose and crashed, keeping time with her feet.

Her dare looped through her mind again and again. How could she ever do that to Tenley? When Tenley quit gymnastics after her dad died, it was as though a light had been snuffed out inside her. The pageants had been the only thing that brought it back—dimmer than before, but there. She couldn’t take that away from her. But if she didn’t, then that awful picture of her might get out. Caitlin felt a hot flood of embarrassment and shame. Had something happened with Joey Bakersfield in Vegas? Had she… done something with him?

No. Impossible. Tenley would have told her.

Caitlin was so consumed in her thoughts that she almost didn’t see the surfer crossing in front of her with his board.

“Caitlin!” Tim exclaimed.

Caitlin had to veer into the stone wall that separated the sidewalk from the beach to keep from slamming into him. She grabbed at it with both hands to steady herself. “Tim,” she said, panting a little. “Uh, hey.”

“Don’t tell me you’re heading to the beach, too?” Tim asked.

“Unfortunately not.” Caitlin cleared her throat, fighting back thoughts of the dare as she tried to think of something normal to say. “I’m actually on my way home to get ready for my Festival shift. I get to be Cait the Clairvoyant all morning.” A familiar throbbing was beginning to spread from her temples to the back of her head, and she reached up to massage her forehead.

“That’s funny,” Tim said. “Because my crystal ball is telling me you’re about to come out on the water with me.”

Caitlin managed a half smile. “I think Eric Hyland would disagree. Besides, I must have forgotten to bring my surfboard with me on my run.”

“No problem,” Tim said easily. “We can just share mine.” Something about the way he said it made heat rise to Caitlin’s cheeks.

“I really should go,” she said, fidgeting uneasily. A trickle of sweat dripped down her forehead, and in her head she saw the dare again.
Do whatever it takes to make sure Tenley is out of the pageant. Or I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’re outed as a slut.

Tim studied her curiously. “Are you okay, Cait? You seem, I don’t know, tense or something.”

“Just, uh, stressed,” Caitlin said. “I’ve got a long day ahead.” The pageant wasn’t until this afternoon. She still had her whole Festival shift to get through first.

“Then even more reason to come out with me,” Tim said fervently. “I’m telling you, it’s the ultimate relaxer. Better than any drug.”

Caitlin thought longingly of her pills, buried at the bottom of her backpack at home. “It’s really that great?” she asked doubtfully.

“It really is.” Tim glanced out at the waves churning against the sand. “It’s like the rest of the world doesn’t exist out there.”

Caitlin wavered. The idea of leaving the rest of the world behind was more tempting than he could know. He smiled at her, a calm, easy smile, and suddenly she was filled with an overwhelming urge to say yes.

“Come on,” he pressed. “Twenty minutes. What harm is there in that?”

She looked down at her sports watch. It was the only thing she ever brought with her when she ran. No phone, no music, just that watch and her feet. According to her watch, it was seven thirty-five, which meant technically she
could
go out for twenty minutes and still make it home in time to shower quickly before the Festival. “Okay. Just twenty minutes, though.”

Tim slung his arm around her shoulder, leading her down to the beach. “You’re going to love it,” he declared. There were a few other surfers out on the water, but he brought her to a quiet area a little way down the beach. “This is my spot,” he told her.

The wind lifted her hair off her neck as she looked around. There was a cove of rocks to her left, with several seagulls gathered in front of it. Every once in a while, one of the seagulls would squawk, but other than that, the only sound was the crash of the waves as they surged against the sand.

“That’s the best sound,” she said. “I always sleep with my windows open so I can hear it at night.”

“Well, it’s even better when you’re out there.” He held the surfboard out to her, and she eyed it nervously.

“You do know I’ve never surfed before, right?”

Tim laughed. “It’s fine. We can just start with paddling out.” He grabbed the leash tethered to the end of the surfboard. “First, this goes around your ankle.” He bent down, Velcroing the leash onto her. His
fingers brushed against her skin and she stepped back quickly, ignoring the tiny shiver that ran through her.

“All right,” Tim said. “Now we just wade into the water.”

“Is this the first time you ever taught anyone to surf in running clothes?” Caitlin asked as she started into the water. It was cold, but it felt good after her run. She looked back to see Tim stripping out of his own outfit, revealing a wet suit underneath.

“I believe it is,” he said.

Caitlin tried to tear her eyes away from him, but the wet suit didn’t leave much to the imagination. She couldn’t stop herself from looking at his broad shoulders and flat abs and surprisingly defined chest. For a second she found herself wondering what it would be like to have his arms around her….

“You okay, Cait?” Tim asked.

Caitlin coughed, yanking her eyes away. “Fine. Just thinking about wading.”

Tim waded into the water and came up next to her. “Now you’re going to lie on the board on your stomach and paddle out after me, okay?”

Caitlin nodded, and Tim took off swimming, his arms slicing sharply through the water. As Caitlin paddled after him, the ocean seemed to stretch out in front of them forever—a blank slate, wide and empty.

“Okay,” he said, stopping when they were just twenty feet out from the shore. Even so, Caitlin’s arms were already sore. “We’re good here.” He turned to face her, swimming in place. “You’re just going to sit on the board and tread water until you see a good wave coming. Then you’ll lie down and turn your board toward the shore, so you can start paddling toward it. When you feel the swell of the wave beneath you,
just ride it forward, and let it carry you all the way back.” He smiled at her. “Got it?”

Caitlin raised her eyebrows. “Aren’t you supposed to stand up when you surf?”

“Eventually,” Tim said. “But this is a good way to start, just get a sense of the waves.”

“You’re the pro. So I lie on my stomach, and just start paddling toward shore,” she recited.

Tim nodded. “But take your time. It’s okay to hang out on the board for a while first, feel the ocean’s rhythm.”

Caitlin shifted around, finding a comfortable position on the board. “Okay,” she said. “I got this.”

“So, tell me,” Tim said, treading water next to her. “What does Caitlin Thomas do for fun? Other than jog,” he added, eyeing her now-drenched running clothes.

Caitlin ran her hand along the edge of the board. It shouldn’t be a hard question, but lately that concept—fun—had been lost on her. “I have a dog,” she said finally, brightening at the thought of Sailor. “Walking him at night is always my favorite part of the day.”

“I’m jealous,” Tim said. “My parents are of the four-legged-creatures-belong-in-the-woods variety. I try to tell them that I would do all the work if we got a dog, but…” Tim shrugged.

“But you can’t manage to make it to school for first period, so they don’t believe you?” Caitlin offered.

“Pretty much,” Tim agreed. “Here!” he said suddenly. He pointed toward a wave building in the distance. “That one’s perfect.”

He nudged her leg and Caitlin tightened her grip, kicking the board around so the wave was at her back. “Okay,” she said, trying to sound confident. She glanced over her shoulder, waiting. The wave was
drawing closer, closer, closer. She could
feel
it, the swell lifting beneath her.

“Go!” Tim shouted. “Paddle!”

But she couldn’t. She clung to the board, frozen, as the water surged under her. The board bobbed up and down and within seconds she’d lost her grip, sliding right off. The water pulled her under, and suddenly she was being tossed left and right, up and down. When she finally managed to find which way was up again, she opened her eyes to see Tim smirking at her through a veil of water as he treaded with one hand and held the surfboard in the other.

“You wimped out,” he announced.

Caitlin groaned, rubbing the water out of her eyes. “I totally did.”

Tim laughed. “It’s fine. You’ll just give it another go.”

But Caitlin froze up on the next wave, too, and the one after that.

“You know what your problem is?” Tim asked finally.

“Clearly not,” Caitlin replied. “Or I’d probably have fixed it.” Another wave passed and she let the board bounce over it, not even attempting to ride it.

“Your problem is that you’re tensing up instead of letting go. You just have to let go, Caitlin. Trust the wave to carry you where it needs to. That’s how I’ve gotten through some of the craziest waves.” He touched her hand. “You just have to give up control. Let the wave take over.”

Caitlin sighed. She was still on her stomach, and she pressed her cheek against the board, liking the feel of the wet graininess against her skin. “Unfortunately, letting go has never been my strong suit.”

Tim swam over to the surfboard, propping his elbows up on top of it. “I’ve noticed,” he said softly. She lifted her head and suddenly they were face-to-face. Up close she could smell the seawater on him, could
feel the warmth of his breath. He took her face in his hands and suddenly she knew what was going to happen, but she didn’t move, didn’t stop it.

And then he was kissing her, his hands wet on her cheeks, his thumb stroking the back of her neck. Beneath them, the board bobbed on the waves, but Caitlin barely noticed. When Tim finally pulled away, she felt breathless, dizzy. She’d never in her life been kissed like that.

For a second, she couldn’t say anything. Her heart was winging high in her chest, as if it might take off. “I guess I let go just fine there,” she joked tentatively.

Tim broke into a smile. “No complaints on this end.” He slipped off the board, nodding toward a wave gathering in the distance. “There. You can do it this time, Caitlin.”

Caitlin kept her eyes trained on the wave as it continued to grow. “Just let go,” she told herself. As it grew closer, Caitlin let her fears and her doubts and her uncertainties all drop away, until there was only her and the wave. It rose toward her, strong and tall and edged in white, and in that instant, as it began to swell beneath her, she closed her eyes and she paddled, letting the wave take over.

With a
whoosh
, it rushed beneath her, lifting her up and surging her forward, weightless, like a dolphin arcing through the air. She clung to the board on her stomach, and for several long seconds, nothing else existed—just that feeling of flying, of freedom. And then softly her board slid into the shallow pool of water along the shore, where the waves lapped against the sand.