The whirlwind of seahorse celebrations and a long, lazy day on the beach both slip away the moment we step inside Colby’s house. Part of me wishes I’d gone home first, just to hang on to the lingering glow of the twinkle lights that I can still see in Topher’s eyes when he smiles. Why couldn’t this weekend last forever? Or, you know, at least a week? I need a longer Drenaline Surf vacation.
“Get in here and watch this shit,” Miles says, reaching across Colby’s couch for the remote. He rewinds the DVR and pauses it on Colby’s parents.
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.