“Don’t stay out too late,” Nanna instructs me as she scrubs a plate in the sink before loading it into the dishwasher. “And you already know to stay out of trouble.”
“I will. I promise,” I tell her.
I reach out to hug her, and she leans into me to avoid touching me with her soapy, wet hands. I was surprised that she and Kapuna were okay with letting me go out for the night with Leilani. Maybe it’s because they know she’s a good influence. They said they wanted me to start rebuilding my life, and hiding away from everyone wasn’t advancing my future. I guess that’s the good thing about grandparents – they’re much more open to letting you have freedom than your own parents are.
When everything went down in California, my mom immediately closed the blinds and hung black-out curtains to keep anyone from spying on us. Dad wore sunglasses anytime he left the house, and Mom became a recluse, which broke me because she was always such a social person. I hope they’re doing better now that I’m away, but I struggle to believe it. I ruined their name and their reputations. I know how people are. They instantly wonder how my parents raised me, if they could’ve done more to stop me, if they instilled the right values.
My family did everything right. They just didn’t see the level of desperation that I kept at bay. I never wanted anyone in California to know how badly I wanted to be back in Hawaii because I didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. Joke’s on me now.
I text Leilani, and she asks me to meet her outside. I wonder if her brother knows she’s taking me along with her and her friends tonight. Her parents probably wouldn’t approve either. I peek out the window before I dare to step outside, in case her siblings are with her. The last thing I want is to drag Leilani down with my bad reputation.
When the coast looks clear and safe, I hurry outside toward her car. She waits in the driver’s seat, smiling like this is normal, like it’s just old times and not dangerous. I get in, close the door, and keep my face toward the floorboard.
“Ninja moves,” she says. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone get in a car that quickly.”
“The circumstances aren’t desirable,” I admit. “I’ve had cameras following me around for the last month or so. First in Cali, now here. Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”
She backs her car out of the driveway immediately. “No turning back,” she says, the moonlight streaking across her skin through the windshield. “You need to get out anyway for something other than community service. Life goes on, you know.”
She flips through the radio stations, unable to settle on anything in particular, while we ride in an awkward silence. I debate asking questions, but my confidence is at an all time low. I’ve never been this quiet and unsure of myself. Talking to girls was never a problem when I could pretend I was a Hawaiian Casanova, but now I’m the guy in the mugshot. It’s a different world.
“So, um, are your friends meeting us there?” I ask. “Wherever we’re going?”
“Actually, they’re not coming,” she admits.
A long sigh exits my mouth. “Well. Can’t say I blame them. I wouldn’t want to be around me either,” I say.
It’s all true. I can’t blame anyone for keeping their distance from me. That photo of A.J.’s car was in every newspaper and on every surf forum. I’m sure the news channels air it here just as they did back in Cali. Even if I had nothing to do with A.J.’s wreck, that car is the image tied to this scandal, and my name is in every article.
But it still hurts. This isn’t who I am. This isn’t who I want people to see.
“I didn’t invite them,” Leilani says. She steers her car into a parking lot near a beach. “It’s not because of your reputation, either. I wanted to hang out with you like old times, and I was afraid you would say no if you thought it was just us because you’re trying to protect my image.”
I don’t say anything as I take in the surroundings. I’ve been here before, years ago, as a kid. I was with my parents, and Leilani’s siblings were here too. We wanted to explore the caves, but our parents said we were too small, and they wanted to spend a day on the beach, not indulging Leilani’s daydreams of mermaids actually existing.
“This is Starlight Cavern,” I say, ignoring her admission that she didn’t invite her friends along. “We always said we’d come back here.”
“I’ve been here a few times,” she says, pointing out toward the actual caves. “It’s really pretty. The waterfalls are amazing. But any time I came out here, I always thought of you, and it felt wrong to explore when you weren’t here. Silly, I know. Childhood promises shouldn’t be taken seriously.”
I wish I could go back to the days of childhood, where the most important thing was finding out if mermaids were real and if dolphins could talk to them. We once spent an entire afternoon at the public library combing through folklore books in hopes of finding something substantial. We thought if we proved our point, our parents would have to let us search the caves.
“They’re closed this late at night,” she says, glancing back toward me. “You know, safety precautions. I don’t want to risk getting you in trouble, but we can still go down to the beach.”
Sometimes, growing up, I wondered if Leilani was actually a mermaid, like it was her deep dark secret and she was dying to tell me but couldn’t, and all of this folklore and legend talk was her way of hinting something bigger to me.
I know better now, but I still secretly hope she’s the siren who can save me.