Lea’s breath caught audibly. The hurt slid over her face so fast Rowan almost reached out by instinct, but she curled her fingers into a fist instead. Lea blinked it away and straightened. The muscle in her cheek jumped. “You’re right,” she said softly, and the softness made it worse.
Rowan realized her nails were carving little moons into her palms.
Lea looked at the ocean, then back at Rowan. Something in her gaze was still pleading, even under the anger. “I’m not your enemy,” she said. “I know it’s easier to pretend you don’t care about surfing, or your friends. We all want you back. You owe your father’s memory more, Ro. It’d break his heart to see you stop fighting, but I can’t keep paddling for both of us.”
Rowan swallowed. Her tongue felt thick. She wanted to say something that would ease the line between Lea’s brows. She wanted to crack a joke. She wanted to say yes. She wanted to ask how to do it without dissolving.
The words didn’t come. The only thing that came was the armor she’d polished for months. “Good night, Lea.”
Lea stared at her for a few seconds like she was trying to see through fog. Then she nodded once. Not acceptance. A cut. “Good night,” she said, and the warmth of her voice was gone.
She turned and walked up the beach. The way she moved, long and unapologetic, always made Rowan think of clean lines on a wave. Lea grabbed her sandals from under a drift log, slapped them onto her feet, and didn’t look back. The night swallowed her in pieces—first the hair, then the shoulders, then the flash of a hand as she pushed away a strand blown into her mouth.
The wind picked up. Rowan hugged her arms tighter. In the faint glow from the lanterns, the ocean’s surface shifted. If she closed her eyes, she could map the break by sound alone. She could tell where the inside got choppy. She could point to the channel where it would be easiest to paddle out without getting pounded. She could do it half asleep.
She hated that she still knew.
Voices drifted nearer. Tino called to someone about folding chairs. Rowan turned into the noise and the small relief of tasks. The place inside her that Lea had named—hunger—gnawed. Rowan pressed her teeth together until her jaw clicked, the way she did when a set rose and she didn’t have position, when all she could do was brace and take it.
Lea was wrong. People outgrew things. Bodies betrayed. People died. What was wrong with making yourself small to fit the new space? It was calm there. Safe.
She bent to pick up a discarded lei, the flowers bruised brown at the edges, and the smell of them hit her—sweet and sad. She carried it to the trash. Her knee pulled tight, reminding her of everything she had buried.
The night went on. The tide kept falling. She told herself she was fine. She told herself she could hold her breath for as long as it took.
Chapter Six
“Hi, Rowan.”
Kelsey stood at the counter, smiling shyly. Her fingers twisted together as if she was about to make a speech. It’d been three days since the sunset party, and Rowan had been thinking nonstop about the young girl. Somehow, in this brief time, they’d made a connection. Rowan hoped she was happy and that was the reason she’d stopped visiting.
Looking at her now, Rowan realized things were worse. Kelsey’s face held a polite blankness. No joy lit her wide blue eyes and she was back in her old clothes. Her T-shirt was embossed with glitter and designer labels. Her purse was Gucci studded with gold. Heavy red lipstick covered her natural pink mouth, and the highlighter dusted over her cheeks and nose sparkled with mauve dust.
She was back to wearing her mask.
Trying not to react, Rowan smiled back. “Hey, Kelsey. How are you doing?”
“Good! Um, great. I just wanted to come by and thank you again for letting me hang at the party. I had fun.”
“You were a big help. Did your dad give you too much hell about not texting back?”
“Yeah, he gave me the lecture, which is worse than anything.”
“Next time, we’ll make sure he’s in the loop. Can’t blame him for worrying.”
“I know. Um, so anyway, that’s it. I’m not going to bother you anymore, but I wanted to thank you for being nice to me.”
The words kicked down the wall around her heart. Her voice softened. “You don’t ever have to thank me for enjoying your company. I like being around you and you’re welcome to come by and hang anytime. Bagel adores you.”
The girl’s cheeks turned pinker than her blush. “Oh! Thanks. Did you leave him home today?”
“Yeah, he got moody with me. I’m probably going home to a shredded wall. Or chair.”
A giggle escaped her lips. “Bagel just misses you. It’s hard being lonely.”
Yeah, Rowan was screwed. This girl was tearing her apart and had no clue. “Did you reach out to Pam about surfing lessons?”
She shook her head. “Nah, I’m giving up on my dream to be a soul surfer,” she joked. “Too embarrassed.”
