Beyond the Rising Tide (20 page)

His face clears, like I’ve just solved a riddle that’s been perplexing him. And then it falls into agony. “Avery.” His voice catches on my name. He clears his throat and then tries again, his tone warm, almost affectionate. “You didn’t take his life. He
gave
it.” He reaches out and tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear, sending warm tingles down my arm. His hand comes to rest on my shoulder, his thumb molding perfectly into the indent above my collarbone. “And have you ever thought that maybe he doesn’t regret what he did? That saving you was the crowning moment of his life?” He releases a sad sigh. “Avery, look at me.” I try, but he’s all blurry now. I feel the backs of his fingers sweeping over my wet cheek, feel more tears pouring over the place he just dried. “And did you ever think of how it would make him feel to know that after giving so much for you, you’re throwing his sacrifice away?”

I shake my head. “I’m not. I—”

“He gave his life so you could live. But you’re not living.” He lays both hands on my shoulders and leans down to eye level. His hands steady me, calm me, and the last of the sunlight is lighting the tips of his hair like a halo. “So
live
.”

Behind him, the sun is disappearing beneath the liquid horizon. For a moment, everything goes silent. All movement stops on the pier and the beach, everyone pausing to witness a miracle, as though the sun sets only once in a lifetime instead of thousands. And I think how maybe I’ve just witnessed my own miracle. Because after six months of being held under the waters of guilt and grief, I can breathe again.

Maybe Dad was right. Maybe sometimes the best person to talk to is a stranger.

After the sun disappears, we stay there for a long time, wordlessly watching the horizon fade. Finally, Kai says, “Come on, I’ll walk back to shore with you.”

We start walking, and maybe it’s because Kai is beside me, but I feel steadier now than I did when I first walked onto the pier. “I thought you left,” I say.

He doesn’t respond right away. We pass a couple sitting on a bench, engaged in conversation and hands intertwined. What would it feel like to have Kai’s fingers laced between mine like that? Probably like having my hand out the window of a moving car, the wind sliding through my fingers. Amazing, but impossible to hold.

“I’m going to be around for a bit longer than I thought,” he says.

I nod slowly, and I can’t seem to restrain the smile that spreads over my lips. “Good. Then it’s your turn.”

He raises an eyebrow.

“Come on,” I say, nudging him with my elbow. “I just poured my heart out to you
again
. And what have you shared with me? Next to nothing. So it’s your turn. Tell me something about yourself. Something I don’t already know. And something that matters. No favorite foods or zodiac signs.”

He smiles. “Scorpios are known to be mysterious.”

“Kai—”

“They sting too. So before you bare your soul next time, make a bargain. Sometimes it’s the only way to get what you want.” He says this last part darkly, as though he himself recently made a heavy bargain.

I grab his arm and stop him from walking. “Wait a minute—that’s not fair. I’ve told you about Tyler and about—”

“How is Tyler, anyway? Have you talked to him since last night? And what exactly happened anyway?”

“Nothing happened.”

“But you kissed.”

I shake my head. “You can’t keep doing this. Every time I try to get you to talk about yourself, you spin it back to me.”

My phone chirps, and I remember Mom. I pull out my phone, and sure enough, it’s another text from her. A long one. I skim through it—a poem with plenty of dark imagery, probably one she just wrote. She’s spiraling downward faster than usual. I shoot her a quick text to let her know I’ll be there soon, then release a long sigh. “You’re off the hook. I have to go.”

“Where?”

I start walking again. “My mom needs me tonight. But … what are you doing tomorrow?”

He catches up and walks beside me. “My day’s open.”

“Don’t you have to work?”

“I could probably get some time off. Why? What do you have in mind?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Is there anything you’ve been wanting to do while you’re here in Avila Beach?”

He thinks. “Actually, there’s one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“I’d really like to take your suggestion to try surfing.”

An incredulous sound comes out of my mouth. “Like I told you, there’s a great surf school right over there. Tyler works there. Maybe he could teach you.”

Kai turns around and walks backward, smiling at me with the left side of his mouth. “I was actually hoping you could give me some tips.”

I open my mouth to say no, but he holds up his hands to silence me. “Hear me out. You don’t have to get in the water. Just come to the beach with me and give me some tips from the shore.”

I recall his words from a moment earlier.
Make a bargain first. Sometimes it’s the only way to get what you want.

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll
think
about it, but only if you tell me something about yourself first.”

“What do you want to know?”

I want to know everything. I want to open him up like a book and read every page. I want to know what inspires him and what haunts him. What comforts him, and what keeps him up at night. I want to know his brand of toothpaste and his favorite song. But since I have to start somewhere, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “Why can’t you stay for the whole summer?”

His hand moves to his stomach, where he absentmindedly gathers a handful of T-shirt in his fist. “When I came here, I left my old job without much notice. They really need my help, and they’re begging me to come back.”

“Why did you come here to begin with?”

He purses his lips and tilts his head as though carefully weighing something. “If I tell you, will you come to the beach with me tomorrow?”

“I will very heavily lean toward yes.”

A family walks past us on the sidewalk, the two kids chasing circles around their parents. Kai’s face softens as he watches them pass, and when they’re out of earshot, he says, “My little sisters live here with my aunt and uncle. I came to see if I could live with them. But it didn’t work out.”

“Oh,” is all I can think to say. Because his answer is miles from what I was expecting. I don’t know what I was expecting exactly, but not that. Suddenly a million new questions are spinning in my head like the
Price Is Right
wheel, and I’m not quite sure yet which one the needle’s going to land on.

My phone chirps yet again, but this time I don’t bother looking because I know it’s Mom. Kai glances at my phone, then gives an understanding nod. “Tomorrow?”

“The jury’s still out on the surfing tips. But either way, I’ll pick you up in the morning.”

find Mom in her darkened bedroom under a pile of blankets, and I go sit on the edge of her bed. From the hallway light, I can see she’s clutching a tattered tissue and wearing her polka-dot pajamas.

“Mom,” I say gently, brushing messy curls from her forehead, “what’s going on?”

She reaches for my hand as if it’s a piece of bread and she’s starving. “Just stay with me,” she says shakily.

We’ve been here many times before, so even though I’m worried, I know she’ll get through this. She only needs time, and someone to paddle through the doldrums with her. I slide under the covers and drape my arm over her, cradling her against me.

“I’m a terrible mom,” she sobs.

“No—you’re not.”

“Then why won’t Sophie talk to me? I’ve been calling her all week, and she won’t pick up.”

I stroke her hair. “She just doesn’t understand why you left.” I don’t either. Every time I try to talk to Mom about it, her explanations are more complicated than wave physics. “She’ll come around. She’s only mad because she loves you and wants you to come home. I think she’s using herself as bait.”

For a couple minutes, there’s no sound in the room except the ticking clock and an occasional sniffle from Mom. Then she says quietly, “I thought I would be happier.”

“What do you mean?”

Her tissue is soaked, so she tosses it on the floor and pulls her pajama sleeve over her wrist, wiping her eyes. “I thought … if I could be by myself for a while, and focus on only me, I could get myself together, you know? I could come back and be a better mom, and a better wife. But I feel even more scattered and lost now than when I left.”

It’s true that she’s put us through a lot of ups and downs over the years. But the ups have made the downs bearable, because those are the times I see who she really is—a fun, creative, loving and generous person—and that’s the mom I try to remember when she’s wading through the valleys of depression.

“We don’t want a better mom,” I say. “We just want
you
.”

She sniffles. “When was the last time I washed your clothes?”

“Who cares? You’ve never missed one of my surfing competitions.”

“But I’ve missed all your parent-teacher conferences.”

“That’s what Dad is for. You’ve never missed the important stuff. You’ve never failed to help Sophie and me get ready for a dance, or redecorate our rooms on a whim, or take us to the best—and worst—chick flicks.”

Her feet find mine under the blankets, and her fuzzy socks rub against my ankles.

“You’re the one who taught us how to sail,” I continue, “and I’ll never forget your lesson on the perils of face glitter.”

She draws in a deep, stuttering breath, but doesn’t say anything else. We lie there, listening to the ticking clock and the muffled sound of the surf through the window.

“You can always come back,” I say faintly after a long moment. I don’t even know if she hears me, because soon I feel her body relax and her breathing deepen. I stay beside her for a few minutes until I’m sure she’s asleep, then I slip out of her bed and go across the hall to the bathroom. I open the medicine cabinet and pull out Mom’s current prescriptions to make sure she’s not out. The lithium bottle is empty, so I text Dad to see if he can get it refilled tomorrow.

When I close the cabinet, I’m startled by my own reflection in the mirror because for a split second I don’t recognize myself. My eyes are tired and troubled, my face timid and full of fear. This is who I’ve become. And it’s not who I want to be.

Kai said I didn’t need to be someone else, I just needed to be me. But I don’t even know who
me
is. I stare deep into my own eyes, searching for myself, for someone I recognize as Avery Ambrose. Someone with courage and determination, with hope and optimism, who’s not afraid to chase what she loves. Just like my mom’s fears keep her from the people she loves, my own fears have been keeping me from the life I want to live.

But I don’t want to live in fear anymore. I don’t want to be controlled by it the way my mom is. Because it’s the moments I’ve feared most that have come right before my greatest experiences. Like taking on a huge wave and coming out of the tube standing, or diving into the black ocean at night to see the underwater world lit up in neon blue by phytoplankton. Or walking out onto the pier tonight and sharing my burdens with an amazing boy.

I want to be someone who experiences great things. Someone who dares to live and fail and succeed and love.

I lean forward and search the depths of my own eyes. And finally, beyond the blue irises in my reflection, I catch a glimpse of her. Of the girl who, despite being afraid to stand up and move forward, has the courage to rise and take the first step.