Chapter Twenty-Nine

Callie:

My mom returned to my dreams for the first time in months. She sat on the beach, my beach - our beach, with the faceless man beside her. She had the most carefree laugh and my dream-self wanted to watch her forever.

A calm settled over me as I woke. The corner of my mouth lifted in a half smile as I rolled over and flipped on the bedside lamp.

The clock read half-past six. The early rays of light filtered in through my window, creating an eerie glow.

Stretching my arms above my head, I realized I had the entire day off. Colby was working at the diner with Kat and Jamie had some interview thing with his dad again. He'd had one after school yesterday as well.

I didn't know what to do on my own.

I laid there for a moment longer before heading downstairs in search of sustenance. I almost passed it without notice. Almost. Then something made me turn, and the yellow flowers caught my eye. There, leaning against the wall by the front door, was mom's board. I'd always think of it as hers. She was only lending it to me.

I reached out, tapping my fingers against it to make sure it was real. My lips curled up. I could feel mom's strength radiating off it, permeating my hard core.

A post-it fluttered to the floor. I bent to pick it up.

Hope you don't mind.

I stole the pieces from under your bed.

You need the waves as much as I need you.

I love you - don't tell me I don't.

-Jamie I leaned my forehead against the smooth board, he'd even waxed it for me. A laugh began in my belly before finding its outlet.

“Is today the day, Mom?” I whispered.

Suddenly wide awake, I ran back to my room. I grabbed my phone off the bedside table, checking my alerts. Sure enough it was there. The waves were in.

I started digging through the pile of clothes on my floor, pulling free a bathing suit and wetsuit before putting them on so quickly you'd think there was an emergency. I tied my hair in the usual braid and ran out of there.

Thankfully, Colby rode to the diner with Kat, leaving his car at home. I grabbed his keys and a granola bar on my way out. I slid the board in the back, having to open a window for it to fit, then took off.

I was hardly the first one at the beach. Surfers dotted the horizon, riding the gorgeous waves. They rolled toward the beach with a steady rhythm, pounding the sand like the beat of a drum.

I can do this, I told myself. And I could. Something had changed the moment I touched that board again. I no longer felt so far away from her, my mom. A piece of me had returned.

I ran down the beach, not slowing until my feet splashed into the water. Fear gripped me, but I pushed it away. I needed this, and it was now or never.

Wading out deeper, I tightened the Velcro around my ankle, running my hand over the still visible scar. I let the water take hold of my board and breathed. In. Out. Don't think. Just do. Let the ocean wash away that which troubles you. It was a saying I used to live by and wanted to feel again.

The water was chest high by the time I pulled myself onto my board and paddled. After so many months away, my arms burned, but I kept going. I had to.

Stroke. Stroke. Push yourself to the limit. Let the feel of the water, the strain of your muscles, fill your mind.

I pushed out, breaking through a large wave, letting the water crash around me like a symphony speeding up its pace.

Once I was past the breaking waves, I sat up and kicked myself around. Looking back over my shoulder, I chose a wave and made sure the way was clear.

My body remembered what to do. It had never been scared, only held back. My arms swung, racing against the wave. They straightened, and I brought my feet under me, catching my balance.

That was it. I was home. That was me.

I turned into the wave, riding through a tunnel trying to swallow me whole. When I came out of it still standing, I pumped my fist in the air, knowing that if anything could heal me, this was it. The pieces of my soul moved back into place.

I dove off my board in one graceful movement, surfacing moments later with a smile on my face.

I only made it halfway on the next wave before tumbling off. I thought I'd be scared as the wave dragged me under, but I knew what to do, and it didn't take much effort to break the surface.

I conquered a few more before letting the water push me closer into the beach. I sat up on my board, throwing my head back with a laugh as I kicked my legs.

“Hey,” someone called from farther in. “Callie, right?”

I caught the red hair and recognized her.

“That's me. You're Freya.”

“I've had an eye out for you since your accident.” She walked closer, her bright yellow board tucked under her arm.

“Yeah, well it's taken me a little while to find my way back.”

“I get that,” she said. “I didn't surf for a year after I hit some rocks out in California.”

“You've surfed in California?”

Her smile widened. “Nothing here compares.”

“Then why are you in Gulf City?”

“It's where the rest of my heart lies. The waves will always be here for you, but the people we love may not.”

Her words hit me with so much force that I stumbled backwards.

“Freya, it was good to see you. I have to go.”

She nodded and headed back out into the waves.

I called Jamie on the way home to throw some dry clothes on, but he didn't answer. I had to tell him. I was wrong when I told him he didn't love me. It'd been months, and we hadn't talked about it since. I hadn't been myself, or maybe I'd been too much myself. I didn't know.

Leaving my wetsuit in a sopping pile on the floor, I pulled on some jeans and a red cotton shirt.

No one answered the front door when I rapped the large brass knocker against the wood. I rang the doorbell and still no such luck. About to leave, I caught the faint sound of a guitar coming from the backyard. Taking the steps two at a time, I leapt off the pillared porch and ran around to the high wooden gate. It was stained black, contrasting with the light house and standing as a warning to any uninvited trespassers.

The latch was old and worn, rarely used, but I pushed it open and stepped into the backyard. Jamie sat with his back to me, guitar resting naturally on his thigh. His head hung low, eyes tracking his fingers as they worked the complicated song.

The music washed over me, full of sadness and desperation. Not the typical kind of song Jamie was known for. It wasn't an original; never was. He claimed he wasn't smart enough or good enough to write.

I'd known Jamie most of my life, but never understood him, never known anything about his life. Now that I did, my heart broke for all those years.

I walked up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder and leaning in to kiss the side of his head, not wanting him to stop.

He flinched away from me, the music crashing to a halt.

“Sorry,” I murmured, stepping in front of him. “Didn't mean to startle you.”

He sighed in relief upon hearing my voice and looked up at me, breathing heavily.

I sucked in a breath when I saw his face, a swirling brown and red bruise stretching the length of his cheek.

“What happened?” I reached out to touch his face.

He turned away from me and set his guitar down.

“Did you see the news?” he asked, back still toward me.

“Haven't had a chance.”

He pulled out his phone and turned back around, typing on the screen. Angling it toward me, he nodded for me to watch the video that was coming up.

Jamie's dad appeared, but the clip was only the end of the press conference. I saw him go off on the reporters and couldn't help the laugh that escaped. Or the ones after that.

“Don't freaking politicize it,” I wheezed. “You said that to a freaking reporter.”

He gave me an amused smile. “I know. I was there. It got me this bruise and dis-invited from today's interview.”

I slapped my leg, bending over to catch my breath. “Oh my gosh, if I wasn't already in love with you, I sure as hell would be now.”

His wry smile turned into a full-fledged grin. “If what?”

“Huh?” That was not how I wanted to say it. No. Definitely not.

“You're in love with me.”

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You know, it's just the grief talking. You aren't actually in love with me.”

I couldn't believe he was throwing that back in my face. “Jerk.” I stomped off the deck.

“You love me.”

I stopped laughing once again.

“No take backs,” he sang. “Does this mean I can finally tell you I love you without you cutting off my balls?”

“Jamie!”

He jumped from the deck, landing in front of me. His arms circled my waist. “I love you Callie McCoy.” He held me to him as he dipped me back, almost to the ground, and kissed me like none of the rest of it mattered. Bringing me back up, he grinned. “I've always wanted to do that.”

“Nerd.” I laughed, still a little breathless. “I do love you though. Not just because of the interview. It's everything. Jamie, I can't believe you got my board fixed. I thought it was a goner.”

“I have a guy,” he said. “He went out of his way to keep the original.”

“I did it. I went back out there today.”

Before I knew it, I was being lifted off my feet and spun around. Jamie let out a yell. “I'm so proud of you. How did it feel?”

“Like coming home.”