It’s not like I’m counting, but fifty-seven hours is a long time to go without talking to someone after you pulled him out of the ocean and watched him nearly die. Topher’s phone has gone to voicemail since the night of the near-drowning, and according to Miles, Vin won’t let anyone in to see him.
Miles slipped in through the window last night to pay his BFF a secret visit. The mass text update he sent out said that Topher was a little shaken up from the whole thing, but overall, he’s in good spirits. Vin, on the other hand, is still raging. I’ve avoided Drenaline Surf and The Strip. In fact, I’ve spent the better part of fifty-seven hours in my bedroom.
The screen door of the guest house slams, and I wait to see which one of my roommates knocks on my bedroom door. Reed has reverted back to the father figure in the house, which almost humors me after his outburst and security call the other night. A.J. is currently at work, so my best guess is Alston – the other bum of the house.
“Hey,” he says, poking his head in without knocking. “There’s a delivery for you. You want to sign for it?”
Seriously, Alston? Do I look like I want to see anyone? Does shutting yourself away in your bedroom for two days not translate for you?
“Sign for it yourself,” I say. “I don’t want to deal with it.”
He leans against the wall and folds his arms. “Fine. I’ll sign for it, but I’m bringing it in here so you can figure out what to do with it,” he says.
He pushes off the wall and heads back toward the screen door down the hallway. Maybe Liquid Spirit sent something for Topher. That’d give me a reason to have to get in touch with him, even if I had to break in through the window like Miles. But with Vin threatening a restraining order, that’s probably not the best idea. Deputy Pittman already knows I’m tied to A.J. Gonzalez, and after Pittman was suspended those days for A.J.’s unfortunate arrest, I’d rather avoid the police station at all costs.
“Special delivery,” Topher says, leaning into my bedroom.
I nearly face-plant in my rush to get from my bed to the doorway. As much as I just want to stare at him and see him in the flesh, I throw my arms around him and bury my face into his chest. His arms squeeze me in the tightest of hugs. He smells like sunscreen and salt water, even though I’m certain he hasn’t been in the sea since I pulled him from it.
“You have no idea…” I say before my voice cracks.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Topher says, pulling back and forcing me to look at him.
He’s wearing those same stupid blue and yellow board shorts from the night at in Sunrise Valley and a Hurley T-shirt. His hair is messy, and his eyes still dance like the ocean on a good day. I can’t imagine a world without him in it.
“I’m okay,” he says. “Can I come in?”
We walk over to the bed, and I sit on the edge, keeping a few inches of distance between us. Part of me wants to lock him down and keep him safe forever, away from rough waters and hospital rooms. But I know that’s exactly what Vin wants for Topher – a life without surfing – and I can never stand behind that, even with all the risks.
“I wanted to thank you,” Topher says. “I wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for you.”
“I’m not the one you should be thanking,” I tell him.
He shakes his head and laughs. “I knew you’d say that. I’ve already gone by Jace’s and Theo’s house. I spent a few hours with Theo this morning. He’s going to be okay too, just so you know.”
I want to ask why he didn’t tell me that it was Shark that Theo couldn’t save. That’s a huge detail to leave out. Sure, knowing someone died because you couldn’t save them is life-shattering, but knowing Shark McAllister died because you couldn’t save him is so much worse. I don’t ask, though. I don’t want to drag any skeletons or ashes onto the shore right now. I feel safer here on dry land.
“Don’t sell yourself short,” Topher says. “I went to see Kale too, and he told me how he froze, how he just panicked. I’m lucky you were there. If you hadn’t gotten to me in time, then Theo would’ve had a repeat of Shark. So in a way, you saved me and him both.”
No matter what Topher says, I can’t accept the heroism. I went into the water because I had to. There wasn’t a choice to make. There were no options. Besides, if Kale and I hadn’t gone in, Miles would have – cast and crutches included – and that in itself needed an intervention.
“How are things at home?” I ask, changing the subject.
Topher shakes his head. “Vin’s an ass,” he says. “He had me on lockdown for two days, but this morning, he had a ‘sudden change of heart.’ I’m still confused by it, but he gave me my phone and truck keys, so I didn’t argue. And just so you know, I’m eighteen, and he can’t file a restraining order to keep you away from me.”
I can’t help laughing. He explains how Jace told him about Reed’s outburst and Vin’s threat. Of course, it was all secondhand information from A.J., who told Jace, and if I know A.J., he probably added his own spin to it. I should give him more credit. Lately, things really have been as crazy as A.J.’s typical exaggerations. There’s no need to embellish when the truth is already insane.
“But the good news is that he’s letting me go to this Ocean Blast Energy promo thing next week,” Topher says. “Miles has to go because he’s sponsored, and Vin is flying out to Florida to talk to someone about partnerships. The space will be good for both of us.”
I agree – the Brooks brothers need some separation right now. Vin never mentioned partnerships on the east coast. Maybe Logan has connections out there. For all I know, we may be in the process of opening a third Drenaline Surf store. It’s not like Vin would’ve told me anyway.
“When I get back, hopefully everything can go back to normal,” Topher says. “But really, I don’t know what normal is anymore.”
“Me either,” I say, pushing all of my worries to the back of my mind. “I feel so stupid being here sometimes. I had this plan that I was going to move here, and life would just turn out so much better, but really, it’s as crappy as it was back home, just with better scenery.”
Topher shakes his head. “You didn’t have West Coast Hooligans on the east coast, so California automatically wins, and it’s not for the scenery.”
If he wants to get technical about it, the Hooligans could be some pretty nice scenery. Even with the cast, crutches, and dreadlocks, Miles has an aura that can’t be touched, and he’s probably the least attractive of the Hooligans.
“How long will you be gone?” I ask.
“A week exactly. I leave tomorrow,” he says. “But as soon as I get back, I’m going to come tell you about it and we’ll hang out. And we can decide what to do about Liquid Spirit.”
I think we need to gather all of our friends and form a prayer circle on the beach. After all Topher’s been through lately, I don’t feel so great about putting him on a plane – especially when he’s traveling with the already-injured.
“You’re not seriously going to sign with Liquid Spirit, are you?” I can’t hide the shock in my voice. There’s no way Topher would sign with a sponsor that isn’t Drenaline Surf…will he?
He shrugs. “The money is better than anything my brother would ever offer me,” he says. “It’s a sponsorship, just not the sponsorship. I’m going to think on it this week. I’m going to go through the whole ‘what would Shark do?’ thing with Miles. Then I’ll discuss it with you because you’re smarter than Miles and me combined.”
“Shark would’ve already signed you,” I say. “That’s what Shark would’ve done.”
Two hours after Topher leaves, I drag myself out of the house. The sunset bleeds into the ocean like a canvas with dripping paint. There are very few reasons I’d leave the house after all that’s happened, but Colby’s panicked phone call makes the list.
He stands on his back patio throwing that hot pink frisbee for Dexter when I arrive. The yellow lab races through the sand toward the shoreline. Colby looks over at me.
“Is Topher okay?” he asks without so much as a ‘hello.’ “Vin freaked that night and told me to get a rental car to drive back. He was so fucking pissed.”
“Topher’s fine,” I say as Dexter hauls his toy back to us. “He came by the house earlier. Vin finally let him leave. He seemed better than I expected, honestly.”
Colby pets Dexter and drops the hot pink frisbee on the patio, signaling that the game is over. Dexter doesn’t seem to mind. He wags his tail and darts off toward the water, slinging sand along the way.
“Let’s go inside,” Colby says, turning toward the patio door. He walks into the kitchen and scrubs the sand and dog slobber off of his hands at the sink. He doesn’t say anything else.
I walk into the living room and plant myself on his couch. He stares out the kitchen window for a few moments before he turns and picks up a stack of papers from the kitchen counter. Then he walks my way.
“My parents’ lawyer called me yesterday,” he says, sitting next to me. “He said this was his final offer to pay for all the damage I caused. I have until next Friday to write the check. If he doesn’t have it by the end of business that day, he’s delivering papers to Drenaline Surf and Joe’s house Saturday.”
He shuffles through the legal papers, avoiding eye contact, while I stare across the room at Shark’s photography hanging on the wall.
“So you have one week from today to hand over a check or they’re declaring war,” I say.
“You nailed it,” Colby says. “If I don’t cave in, by this time next week, papers will be packaged up for Saturday morning delivery. So you know what I have to do, right?”
I don’t want to hear it. I don’t want to hear that he’s giving up. He’s a forever chaser. He goes after his dreams. He freaking died to escape his life and make something of himself. Everything he has, he’s worked for. He’s earned it. He and Shark fought for this. Shark would not approve of his surrender.
“You’re not paying them off,” I say, shaking my head. “It’ll never end. They’ll go through this money, and then they’ll demand more. They’ll always find a way to blackmail you into doing everything they want and giving them anything they wish. If you write that check, you’re caving in to them for the rest of your life.”
Colby sighs. His shoulders visibly rise and fall with the deep breath. “I know,” he says, catching me off guard.
“You know?” I ask. “Are you kidding me? You’re actually walking back into this willingly? You’re giving up everything you worked for and giving in?”
He nods. “There’s one thing more important than my dreams, and that’s Jake McAllister. He gave me all of this. In a weird sense, he brought you here. I’m not letting his name, his store, or his dad go through that hell. Joe deserves better than this. I may have put my parents through hell, but I refuse to put that man through it.”
I lock my eyes on the photograph I stared at last summer. It was taken underwater, looking up at Colby as he sat on his surfboard. It’s a literal shark’s eye view. Colby had said it was his favorite. Shark believed in him. I wish he’d remember that now.
“Have you even talked to Joe?” I ask.
“No,” Colby says. “But as soon as Vin gets back from his business trip next week, I’m turning in a resignation letter and asking to be released from my contract. I have a few matters to take care of before then, but in two weeks, I’ll be back in North Carolina for good.”