She exhales. “So my mom and stepdad just had a newbaby, right? And for the last year, that’s all anyone has talkedabout,” she says. “I get it. It’s his first child. It’s her firstwith him. It’s a new baby, and everyone gets all stupid happy overbabies. But it was also my senior year.”
I can’t imagine either of my parents having anotherbaby at this point. Cassie is definitely still young enough to havekids of her own, but she’s treated my sister and me like we werealways hers anyway. It was never a problem unless someone thoughtshe was my older sister rather than my stepmom. Then things justgot weird fast. She’s more supportive of my surf career than myactual mom is, though. Cassie believes in dreams. Mom believes insoul-sucking day jobs.
“I’m okay with them having a baby. Yeah, it’s awkwardbecause we’re eighteen years apart, but I feel like you live forsenior year. That’s the endgame for your entire childhood,” shesays. “And it’s not just about the parties and sneaking out and whohas the best fake ID. The formal stuff matters too.”
I think Kaia might’ve actually had a better highschool experience than I did. Hanging out with the Hooligans wasgreat, but they were in school at Horn Island and I was at CrescentCove. They were rough and gritty, and I still had to uphold theRichardson name. Well, I tried to anyway. That was a bust. It waslike trying to live a double life, and I eventually ruinedboth.
“When we had senior class night, my dad and I satthere awkwardly poking at salads while everyone else gushed overmom’s belly and her due date and what she was going to name thebaby,” she continues. “I was so afraid she’d go into labor at mygraduation, and I was thankful that I’m an Anderson so I’d betoward the front of the line.”
She looks across the water, at the red remnantssinking below the horizon. It reflects in her eyes, like a streakof fire across the darkness.
“I was so ready to get back to my dad’s because Iknew it wouldn’t be about the baby or their happy little familythat I don’t fit in anymore,” she says. “It would just be dad andme, like it always was, and I wouldn’t be tossed aside. I’d sort ofbeen left to fend for myself back home, and now it’s like I’m doingit all over again.”
I actually feel like dirty seaweed for hijacking hersummer. It’s like sitting a kid in front of the TV all day whileyou do the things you want to do instead. This island is her TV,and her dad is too busy with my career to do the dad thing for her.She needs him more than I do right now.
“You know what? We should just reschedule this,” Isuggest. “You deserve to spend time with your dad, and I can trainback home. The competition I want to surf in is in Crescent Coveanyway, so that’s probably where I need to be. My dad can fly usback out here another time.”
Kaia immediately shakes her head and turns toward me.“No, you can’t cancel this,” she says. “My dad needs it. When Neilretired, my dad’s world just sort of stopped spinning. He’s aliveagain, and it’s because he’s coaching you. This is his passion.It’s his livelihood. We have to stay.”
The bright blue water beneath us slowly fades todarker hues, like a storm has rolled in and taken away the color,when really it’s just nightfall embracing the island. The tikitorches seem brighter now.
“I never thought I’d be working with Neil Harper’scoach,” I say.
“Neil was great,” she says. “I’ve known him my wholelife. When his first son was born, Dad thought maybe he’d hang upthe jersey, but they popped out a baby every two years and hestayed on tour. I think it took Willow for him to finally stop.Maybe because she was his first daughter after three boys.”
I remember seeing the birth announcement on Instagrama few months back. I thought Willow Harper sounded like a goodsurfer name. Then again, so do his other kids, Wolf, Jett, andReef. It’s weird to think they’re the next generation of possiblesurf legends.
I turn toward Kaia. “Did your mom have a boy or girl?You just refer to it as ‘the baby.’”
She laughs. “Madeline,” she says. “I wonder if Neilwould just let me take Willow in as my baby sister instead. I feellike she’d be the better deal.”
“Probably would be,” I admit.
She narrows her eyes at me. “That’ssort of harsh, even if I amtrash talking Mom’s new baby,” shesays.
I shrug. “I’m just being honest. I don’t believe insaying something if it’s not ingenuous.”
“Ingenuous,” she repeats. Then she laughs.
It could just be the island getting to her,but I think Kaia may finally be warming up to me.
Chapter Five – Kaia
“How do you have a talk like that and stillhave your guard up?” Sloane asks, lowering her sunglasses to stareme down properly. “It’s like a rom-com movie breakthrough, thatmoment when your heroine finally realizes that maybe the jerkoffhero isn’t such a jerkoff and may actually have a heart.”
I lean forward, resting my head against thegiant flamingo float in Sloane’s swimming pool. I breathe in theplastic smell of the pink bird, relishing the way it mixes in theair with the scent of chlorine and sunscreen. It smells likesummer, and for half a second, it’s like being at Dad’s houserather than thousands of miles away.
“Kaia, why won’t you just accept that you’rethe heroine and he’s the hero and this is all meant to be?” shecontinues. “It’s literally written in the stars and strung togetherwith twinkle lights. It’s so bright and beautiful, and you justkeep turning off the light.”
Sloane doesn’t live in the real world. Ithink she’s probably the best thing I could’ve found on thisisland, but my God, she’s clueless. I’m sure she spends a lot oftime hanging out in her big house watching movies where everyonefalls in love and gets their happily ever after. She’s on an islandseparated from the rest of the world. She probably thinks the restof the planet lives on a movie set, and
