“I think I’m in love,” I say, glancingaround us. “I can literally get out of bed and jump into the watereach day. This is perfect.”
“Definitely the best place we’ve stayed,”Glenn agrees.
I glance over at Kaia, but she seemsunimpressed. I don’t know how anyone could look so miserable in aliteral tropical paradise. Whatever she has back home must bepretty damn special to want to be there rather than here. She stepsahead of us and walks in as Santino holds the door open forher.
“There are three bedrooms and twobathrooms,” Santino explains, motioning with his hand. “This is oneof the bigger bungalows at the resort, per request.”
“Great,” Kaia says. “I really didn’t want toshare a bathroom with them while they’re blowing the ocean out oftheir noses every night. It’s bad enough living with one surfer,much less two of them.”
Ouch. Maybe that’s what it is. She hates thesport of surfing or she hates her dad’s job or she just hates thewhole surf culture in general. I can’t get a read on this girl, butI don’t know if I can tolerate the attitude for the next few weeks.I’ll suck it up for her dad’s sake because he’s been an epic coach,but that doesn’t mean my nerves won’t be shot by the time we leavehere.
“I’ll be sure to tell my dad that youappreciate his consideration of these things,” I say before I canstop myself.
Kaia’s eyes sink into the best death glareI’ve ever witnessed before she walks into one of the bedrooms andslams the door behind her.
I turn toward Glenn. “I’m sorry,” I say. “Ishouldn’t have said that.”
He waves it away with his hand. “She’ll comearound. Don’t take it personally.”
I do, though, because I know it’s me. Thisis why it’s hard for me to make friends or keep anyone in my lifefor any length of time. I’ve fought like hell to learnresponsibility and respect, but it’s not something that comeseasily for me. My dad drilled it into my head from the time I wasold enough to comprehend words that our family was special. We’dworked hard to get where we were, and we weren’t going to apologizefor it. We proved ourselves and deserved the success and big houseand expensive cars.
But that’s the thing. We didn’t doit. My dad was the one who worked hard, got a degree, got hischiropractor license, and created a life for our family. My dad isthe one with the big house and expensive sports car and youngtrophy wife. Sure, most of Crescent Cove thinks he’s aself-righteous asshole, and most of the time he is, but he workedfor everything he has, and he’s brutally unapologetic.
Me? Well, I lost a surf competition to a(then) good friend, acted like a spoiled brat about it, moved awayfor college because I wanted to join a prominent fraternity,dropped out because I was always drunk, and moved back home just intime to make a fool of local surf star Colby Taylor. I still feelbad when I think of that night. Cassie told me it was okay, thatthings happen, but my dignity died alongside her grandmother’scoffee table when Colby crashed it to the floor.
Glenn and I haul our things into ourrespective rooms, but instead of unpacking, I call my dad to tellhim about my broken boards and beg for replacements. I can findsomething to use in the meantime at the surf shop here, but afterriding boards made specifically for you, it’s hard to grab ageneric board and hope for the best.
After my dad promises to fix my surfboardsituation, I unpack the rest of my stuff to settle in for our timehere. Kaia may not be happy about the island life, but I have topush her out of my mind. I’m here for a reason, and that’s to trainmy ass off and be the best well-rounded surfer I can possibly be.My dad has heard rumors that there’s a competition sponsored byDrenaline Surf happening at the end of the summer, and if the storyis true, I’ll pay whatever entry fee I have to in order to compete.I need to be on my game, at my very best, to prove to everyone backhome once and for all that I’m worthy.
Chapter Three – Kaia
It’s officially ten A.M. island time when Iwake up the next morning. The bungalow is empty, which is nicebecause I didn’t want to see Dominic before I had a chance toshower. I stroll into the kitchen. A note from my dad is on thecounter next to a pineapple-turned-vase. Brightly colored flowerssprout from the fruit.
We went to the surf shop to see if we canfind a board. Surfing until lunch. Feel free to explore but don’tget too adventurous. – Dad
Don’t get too adventurous? We’re on anisland. It’s not like I can really escape, and if I did somehowdisappear, there are only so many places to hide. I grab a bananafrom the plate on the counter, peel it back, and take two bitesbefore deciding that I need something of substance. I glance in thefridge, but after seeing energy drinks, bottled water, and a fewvegetables, I realize we’re definitely not prepared for meals.
I take a shower and get ready for the daybefore heading down the pier toward the island. I can’t see Dad andDominic anywhere in the water, but that’s typical. The lineupwouldn’t be anywhere near the bungalows. They probably took a boatout with some locals to the best surf spots. They could be gone forhours.
When I step off of the pier and onto thesand, I look ahead at the lavish resort. It looks like it belongsin a big city, like NYC, rather than shut away on an island. It’ssort of like trying to hide the Taj Mahal. It’s a beautiful pieceof architecture, and the world has no idea it exists. I walk intothe lobby, searching for the restaurant my dad had mentioned. Thewhite marble floors gleam up at me.
“Hey, can I help you?” a girl asks.
I look over at a girl who is probably myage. She has white blonde hair that shines like these floors. Shewears cut off denim shorts and
