I finish off the coffee against my will, asif I’m taking horrible cough medicine that I know I can’t escape,and then grab a pair of board shorts and an old T-shirt. It’s notexactly how I’d stroll out onto the beach any other day, but I’mnot concerned with looking cool during another day of communityservice. Nanna and Kapuna both said they wanted me to get as muchof this out of the way as possible as quickly as possible, so I’mholding up my end of the deal. The sooner community service isover, the sooner I can put all this behind me.
The beach is crowded this morning, worsethan the last few days. It’s a Saturday, though, so all the weekdayworkers are here for family beach days or to give back to theircommunity out of the goodness of their hearts. A youth group intie-dye T-shirts stands to the side, and a marine life conservationgroup waits next to them. Looks like everyone decided to pick uptrash today.
I stare down at my tennis shoes to avoid eyecontact with the “good souls” who are here. Hopefully they haven’theard about my crimes or how I’m here to pay off my debt tosociety. I remember thinking how strange it was for Vin to alwayswear tennis shoes on the beach, but he was never a surfer. He wasthere for business purposes. Now that I’m on the other side of thefence, it makes sense. Flip-flops aren’t designed for communityservice.
After I check in and grab my gloves, I trekdown the beach away from the youth group so they won’t try to saveme from my sins or preach to me about forgiveness. Well meaning ornot, I don’t think I can handle anyone trying to help me. I benddown and pick up a few pieces of trash – bottle caps and candywrappers – and keep my eyes on the sand, as if the ground will fallout from under me if I dare to look up at the sky.
Why couldn’t they have assigned me to ahomeless shelter or highway cleanup? There are plenty of peoplehere. I could be stirring soup or picking up McDonald’s bags orhanding out sandwiches. I really can’t imagine today getting anyworse than having everyone in town standing on the beach while I’mbathing in my shame.
I grab the empty water bottle from the sand,drop it in my bag, and glance toward the water when a group of guysholler out about an awesome wave. The guy on his board kicks outinto the water, and I turn around as quickly as I saw the waves. Itstill pains me too much.
But the view I catch on the beach hurts justas much. She’s not the same young girl with a flower in her hair,but I’d know her anywhere. It’s Leilani.
Chapter Four – Leilani
I exhale a breath of relief. I knew he’d probably beon beach cleanup duty because all community service assignments arebasically beach cleanups. I guess that’s the perk of living inHawaii. Even when you’re being punished, you’re swept up in anocean breeze.
Kale stands alone, holding a water bottle in hishand. He looks back to the bag as quickly as he’d looked at me.It’s so hard to see him as anyone other than the boy I grew upwith. I know he’s been through hell, and I know he did some badthings, but seeing him here? It’s like I’m thirteen again, feelingnervous and excited and scared because my heart flutters in a way Idon’t quite understand. But now I do. Now I know these feelings arebutterflies.
He’s taller, and his shoulders are broad. He’s lethis hair grow out, but right now it’s pulled back to keep it out ofhis face for the day. He’s muscular, just like his Californiafriend with the dreadlocks. I wonder if he misses them – or ifthey’re even friends now. Note to self: Don’t let him know youactually kept up with his social media accounts for the last fewyears.
I slip the gloves on my hands, graba bag, and head out toward the sand. I steady my breathing and grabthe first item I see in the sand – an aluminum can – and then rakemy hands over the grains to see if anything else may be lingeringclose by. I don’t want anyone to know I’m here just to seeif he was here. I’msure my brother and sister would know, but they have no idea thatI’m spending my Saturday afternoon cleaning up thebeach.
For the next hour, I inch closer, trying to getwithin reach where it won’t be too awkward to talk to him. If hesees me near him, it’d be weird not to speak. There’s too muchhistory for us to pretend we’re strangers. He stops to picksomething up, and I decide it’s time – I’m going in for thekill.
After a deep breath, I beeline toward him. He doesn’tlook my way until I reach out with my dirty glove and tap hisshoulder. I instantly regret that decision when he jerks his armaway.
“Hey,” I say, looking at the glove. “Sorry. I didn’tthink about the…trash…How are you? I heard you were back on theisland. With your grandparents, right?”
He nods and reaches toward the sand, but there’snothing there to pick up. “You know why I’m here,” he says.“Everyone knows. It’s probably better for you not to talk to me.I’m in the middle of community service right now.”
And just like that, the boy who taught me how to surfwalks away, as if I’m just another piece of plastic that should bediscarded with the rest of the trash on the beach. This is going tobe so much harder than I thought.
“Lani!” a voice shouts from behind me.
I cringe because I know Keiko’s voice anywhere. Ispin around as my brother approaches me, decked out in gloves, aplastic bag in his hand.
“Leilani,” he says, using my actual name rather thanhis nickname for me. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“How did you even
