Authors: Alyson Noël
“When did you see me?” Ellie asked, wondering if Anne was spying on her or something, even though she knew how ridiculous that seemed.
“Um, early in the morning. Before school sometimes.” Anne gave an embarrassed shrug.
“You get up at five thirty?” Ellie looked at her skeptically.
“Well, sometimes, yeah. I mean, when I can’t sleep. I guess I’m still on East Coast time or something.”
“I think you just found your new surf partner,” Lola said. Then, looking at Anne she explained, “We all used to surf before school, but then Jade and I kind of dropped out. Unlike Ellie, we need our beauty sleep.” She laughed.
“Speak for yourself!” Jade said, tossing her long brown ringlets and giving Lola a fake offended look.
“Well, I’m pretty serious about surfing, so I’m not really looking for company,” Ellie said, feeling completely annoyed with her friends for pushing this girl on her. Why couldn’t everyone just leave things the way they were?
“We’re all thinking about going down to Taco Loco in a while. You wanna come?” Chris asked, grabbing Anne’s water bottle and taking a sip.
Ellie just stood there, watching them. Their knees were bumping against each other, and the way he had just grabbed her water, so casually, almost like they were boyfriend and girlfriend or something. But that was impossible.
They just met!
“Um, no thanks,” she said, grabbing her board and turning to leave. “I gotta be somewhere in half an hour.”
“Where you going?” Jade called after her.
“Just somewhere,” Ellie said, waving over her shoulder and heading toward home.
Walking up the beach stairs, she could feel her face grow hot. She was angry with her friends for totally not getting that she had no interest in hanging with Anne, not to mention how humiliating it was to watch her so effortlessly succeed at everything Ellie had worked so hard for. It’s like she’d just come out of nowhere and within one week she’d moved in on Ellie’s friends and Ellie’s fantasy boyfriend, and now she was even showing a certain amount of skill at Ellie’s sport.
She’d been watching her the whole time, and unfortunately Chris was right. Anne was a pretty good surfer. Maybe not good in the way that Ellie or Chris or even Jade or Lola was, but good in the way that if she got out there a couple times a week and really focused, she could definitely compete someday, and that was something that Ellie did not need. It was bad enough losing Chris to her; she certainly didn’t need to lose Surf Fest, too.
Leaning her board against the wall, she threw her damp towel over a deck chair and went into the kitchen.
“Hey.” Her brother was sitting at the table drinking a juice and reading last weekend’s
L.A. Times
Calendar section.
“Did you just wake up?” she asked, realizing she sounded bossy and judgmental just like her dad,
but jeez,
it was three o’clock already.
“Out last night. Got home late,” Dean said in that shorthand way of talking he had. He was all about word economy.
“Where?” Ellie asked, opening the fridge and looking for something to eat. All that time in the water had left her ravenous.
Too bad I can’t go to Taco Loco,
she thought, grabbing a container of yogurt, determined to make do.
“Party. Monarch Beach,” he said, still not looking up.
“Oh, I was at one at Aliso,” she said, grabbing a spoon.
“So I heard.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, panicked that word was out about her drinking three beers and making out with Duncan. Any other girl doing that would be no big deal, but Ellie idolized her brother and she wanted him to think well of her.
“Duncan called like an hour ago.” He shrugged.
“What did he say?” she asked, hoping she sounded calm and casual.
“He wants you to call him.” He looked up briefly.
“Did he say anything else?”
“No.”
“So who was at the party?” she asked, determined to move the conversation away from herself. She did not want to think about Duncan right now.
“Some friends, some poseurs, the usual crowd.” He shrugged, folded the paper in half, and looked at her.
Dean was pretty intolerant of poseurs, the kind of people who offered nothing more than their money and their presence. He, on the other hand, had accomplished so much in such a short amount of time, having won several surf championships with several major brands clamoring to sponsor him; he’d even gotten an early acceptance into a really good school. Yet despite his good looks and undeniable talents, he somehow managed to stay really low-key, often using his free time for community service, like assisting in beach cleanups or teaching autistic kids to surf or working on his ongoing surf documentary. But Ellie knew that his most amazing accomplishment to date was when he’d convinced their dad that taking the semester off school to work on his film was a genius idea. Ellie couldn’t even take a sick day without getting seriously scolded. And as much as she loved Dean, sometimes it was a total bummer having a brother like him. He was a tough act to follow.
“Do you know what time Dad’s coming home?” she asked, finishing her yogurt and dumping the container in the trash.
“Not ’til late.” He looked at her and smiled. He knew just how hard their dad had been on her over the last few years.
“Good,” she said, heading upstairs to her room so she could shower, change, and then head out to her secret place. She was looking forward to a little peace and quiet.
Lola was staring at her half-eaten taco, impatiently waiting for Jade to take her home, even though all the immediate evidence suggested that was not about to happen anytime soon.
Impatiently chewing on the end of the straw she’d used to drink not one, but two Diet Cokes, she watched as Jade joked around with Ben and some older guys who were apparently friends of his that Lola had never seen before. Chris and Anne had taken off an hour ago, and Lola was beginning to wish she’d gone with them.
What a waste,
she thought. Five single guys less than five feet away and things had gotten so bad for her that she didn’t feel like flirting with any of them. But even worse was the fact that her phone hadn’t rung all day. Not that she thought
he
would call. But still, it would have been nice.
But wait. Hadn’t Jade told her on the beach that her bag was vibrating? She’d assumed at the time that it was that loser guy her mom was trying to hook her up with.
But what if it wasn’t? What if he really did try to call?
Anxiously, she reached into her bag, grabbing her cell and flipping it open, only to find a little envelope on the screen.
So she
had
gotten a message!
Excitedly, she pressed the voice-mail button, holding her breath and closing her eyes, anticipating the sound of his voice.
“Hi. My name’s Diego. Apparently our parents think it’s a good idea for us to meet. So if you want, you can give me a call back at …”
She erased it before he could finish.
Of course
, she thought, shaking her head and rolling her eyes. Well, there was no way she’d be calling him back. And when her mother asked, well, she’d just tell her that he never called. Because the one thing she knew for sure was that there was absolutely no way she was going out with him. No way in hell,
because only the most terminal dweeb would need his mother to set him up on a date
!
“Hey, Lola, you awake?” Jade asked, laughing and tapping her friend on the shoulder.
“Yeah, what’s up?” she said, brushing her hair away from her face, hoping Jade was finally ready to bail.
“We’re gonna go over to Tom’s. Are you in?”
“Who’s Tom?” Lola asked, squinting at the guys, unable to remember any of their names, which was so unlike her.
“Curly blond hair in the blue T-shirt, standing next to Mike who you also probably don’t remember. Anyway, his apartment is just up the street. We’re just gonna hang out, listen to some music …”
But before Jade could list all the activities that could be had at Tom’s, Lola was already shaking her head. She knew they were all just gonna go back and smoke some pot, and Lola just wasn’t into all that. What she really wanted was to be by herself for a while and just try to sort out all the conflicting emotions in her head. She needed a little downtime, she needed to chill, but she didn’t need to do it at Tom’s. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I think I’m gonna head home. Do you mind?” she asked, assuming Jade would go with her and feeling bad about wrecking her good time, but really, Jade didn’t need to be hanging out with a bunch of older guys, either.
Oh great, now I’m even starting to think like Ellie
, she thought.
“No worries. Just take these, and leave it in the driveway,” Jade said, handing her the car keys.
And before Lola could even respond, Jade was already walking down the street with Ben and his four stoner friends.
“See, the main difference between diving and surfing is the control issue. Like diving is all about perfect form, being in complete control of your body, and getting the moves just exactly right. But in surfing, yeah, okay, you have to be skilled enough to control your board as well as your body, but there’s not just one specific way of doing it. Everyone brings their own unique experience to it. No one can tell you how to surf a wave. It’s, like, as individual as your fingerprint,” Chris said.
“That’s the
only
difference?” Anne laughed, leaning into him. “’Cause I can think of like a million more.”
“I said it’s the
main
difference, not the
only
difference.” He smiled.
They were sitting on her front lawn. Chris had his hands wrapped around his knees and Anne had her long, tanned legs splayed out in front of her, and they were both enjoying each other’s company so much, it was pretty obvious neither of them wanted it to end.
They’d spent the entire day together, but there were still so many things to talk about. And Anne realized she hadn’t been this happy since she’d left Connecticut. Then, when she looked up and saw Chris smiling at her, she was pretty sure she hadn’t been this happy then, either.
“Maybe we should get a pizza and rent a movie,” he said, stretching out his legs and lying back on the grass.
“After two tacos, two Cokes, nachos, Spanish rice, and refried beans?” she said, wrapping her arms around her full belly. “I don’t think so. I’ll burst if I eat anything else.” She laughed.
“You’re right,” he said, sitting up abruptly and looking embarrassed. “I should bail. You’re probably getting pretty sick of me by now.” He looked embarrassed.
“I said I was
full
.” She smiled. “I didn’t say I was
bored
.”
And then, mustering every last ounce of courage (since she’d never been one to make the first move), she closed her eyes, leaned in, and kissed him.
Ellie had been painting for hours, and now her fingers felt stiff, her back ached from standing for so long, and the light was beginning to fade so fast she could barely see her canvas. She flexed her fingers, trying to warm them up and get them limber again, then leaned over, opened her paint box, and began loading up her supplies.
She loved going to Treasure Island Park and being surrounded by all the other artists. She didn’t know any of them personally, and most days there were several she’d never seen before, but there were always a few regulars she looked forward to seeing. Like the older woman with the long gray braid who painted with such bold, abstract strokes that Ellie couldn’t tell if it was supposed to be the scenery in front of her or a more complicated landscape that existed only in her head. And the big, burly guy who looked like a Hell’s Angel but painted in the most fragile, delicate, precise way. And then there were the wannabe bohemians, with their designer tote bags and expensive white linen shirts, who scowled in frustration when the task turned out to be much more difficult than they’d imagined. Ellie had watched more than a few of those types pack it up after ten minutes and head back to their suite at the Montage. For some people, she guessed, it was more the romantic idea of painting than the actual reality of it that was so intriguing.
Ellie had been coming here for years, but nobody knew about it. Nobody even knew she could paint—well, except for her mother, who had encouraged her daughter’s natural artistic abilities ever since she was a small child, often walking her through the many downtown Laguna Beach galleries while Dean was at school.
One of Ellie’s most cherished memories was of the time she and her mother visited the Getty Museum in Los Angeles, just weeks before her death. They’d spent the entire day there, exploring the grounds, enjoying a long lunch, and staring in wonder at some of the finest works of art. Ellie’s mom had been thin and bald and easily exhausted from the months of chemo she’d endured, but with a colorful silk scarf tied around her head and her vintage jeans belted tightly around her waist, she’d grabbed Ellie’s hand and forged ahead, determined to ignore the curious stares of others and just enjoy her last days.
But Ellie’s father knew nothing of her painting. He had so little appreciation for art that Ellie was sure he could never understand how important it was to her. And even though her friends would definitely be supportive, the truth was, it was kind of nice to have something totally private that belonged only to her.
She was pretty good, too. Or at least she suspected she might be. Every now and then one of the regulars would pass by and say, “Looks nice.” Or, “You really captured those wildflowers.”
Of course, it was possible that they were just being kind, but there was a small part of her, deep down inside, that was convinced there really was something there.
The funny thing was that her secret place was just a short five-minute drive from Laguna Cove, yet nobody would ever think to look for her here. Which made it all the more perfect.