Chapter 6
Julian
“Sunset Point has been perfect for learning how, and it’s close to campus, so .
. . win-win.” Taya and Seth are trading surfing stories.
That she knows how to surf impresses me and locks me into that conversation instead of my growing unease the closer we get to the vacant lot next to the baseball field.
“Man, you should come to Pismo. Consistent breaks. Perfect for beginners.” Seth’s passion for surfing oozes from his pores.
Watching the two of them in the rearview mirror, I feel an odd tug on my heart, a warm swirl in my gut.
It’s clear Seth isn’t immune to Taya’s thrall, and so far, he seems like a decent guy.
Semi-frat guy stereotype aside, he’s super chill, go with the flow, kind and genuine.
I like him. The dynamic between him, Noah and Lilly is unforced and smooth, like they’re a unit.
I wonder, fleetingly, if there is a throuple situation happening.
Not my business, but their threesome is curiously undefined although natural, effortless.
Noah and Lilly are turned toward each other, leaning their arms over the back of the middle seats, joining Seth and Taya’s conversation.
No territorial jealousy, just openness. I make a note to ask Noah about it when we get a minute alone.
He and I have a quiet, honest friendship that I appreciate more than he knows.
Not one to become attached to others, I value the bonds I’ve built with him and Lilly.
And Ever. Always Ever. I stop tapping my chest and reach for her hand and lace our fingers.
She squeezes and pulls them to her, settling them against the apex of her abdomen and thighs. Her eyes jump to mine when Seth adds, “Ask Davis. She killed it her first time.”
“Ever, you surf, too?” Taya asks, her eyes wide with surprise.
She’s taken to using my nickname for her as I’ve gotten laxer in saying it in front of others.
Ever doesn’t seem to mind. I personally love it because that’s who she is.
Just Ever. I bring our joined hands to my lips, pressing a kiss to the back of hers.
Hearing that she learned when she bailed to Lilly’s drops me back into that desperate space of those two days.
Combined with the dread of being near the trailer park, I need the contact of her skin to ground me—remind me who I am now.
Lilly pipes up, “She’s a little badass, too.”
I track her nervousness in my periphery. She’s rubbing the palm of her other hand up and down her thigh and tightens her grip on my hand as she answers. “Let’s not get carried away. I surfed once. If we’re getting technical, I stood up maybe three seconds.”
“No, she did,” Noah chimes in. To me he says, “It counts.” Then he swivels back and adds, “You’d love it, Taya. Especially if you already know how. Nice, consistent breaks, and even some larger stuff if you want a challenge.”
“Noted. I’ll have to come visit and hit you guys up. When the grind of law school allows.”
“Anytime,” Seth, Noah and Lilly say in unison, followed by their joint laughter at their timing.
See? Throuple energy, whether it’s factual or not.
Pulling into the dirt lot, Lilly squeals, “I’m not riding the Ferris wheel.”
“We’ll see,” Noah retorts.
I turn off the engine and audibly sigh, forgetting to hide my anxiety for a second.
Ever releases my hand and grazes her fingertips along the scruff on my cheek.
I turn my face into her touch and reluctantly meet her eyes.
She reads me too well, and I don’t want her to see my apprehension.
I smile and kiss her palm. “Let’s go win you a ridiculously overpriced stuffed animal at the games. ”
She rolls her lips inward with a flat smile that doesn’t reach her eyes but prompts both dimples to pop out. She’s letting me pretend I’m fine, but she sees me, and I love her more for it. I plunk a kiss on the tip of her nose as she nods her agreement.
The air is thick with the aroma of overly sweet funnel cakes, the shrieks of excited kids, the clang of games and the constant hum of overlapping laughter and chatter.
Lilly and Noah get accosted by their families almost as soon as we enter the carnival.
Between face painting, photo booths and risky rides, I venture we won’t see them until it’s time to leave.
Seth and Taya find the closest beer stand and grab two each, offering one to me and one to Ever.
We press our plastic cups together, take a slug of foam and beer and meander toward the rows of games, choosing the ring toss first.
Funny enough, Taya and Ever win more games than Seth and me, but it may have more to do with the mostly male carnies’ affinity for their jaw-dropping beauty than their talent for fixed carnival games.
The more they win, the sassier they get, lording it over us that they “dominate.” Without discussing it, Seth and I unite in sarcastically agreeing with them at every turn that they indeed prevail.
We also keep pounding cheap beer until my bladder screams for release.
“Hitting the head,” I announce to Seth as we pass the bricked building marked restrooms. To Ever and Taya, I call, “Take it easy on Seth while I’m gone.”
“We make no promises,” Taya tosses over her shoulder as she steps up to the water guns race.
Washing my hands in the men’s room, a voice behind me sends ice through my veins and shoves my heartbeat into my throat.
“Must be my lucky day. Been lookin’ for you and here you are.”
I turn off the water and roll my weight onto the balls of my feet.
As I raise my eyes from the sink basin to the mirror and the reflection behind it, a cold sweat breaks out under my arms and runs down my ribs.
A small victory registers that he looks even older than the last time I saw him almost four years ago, the eyes glassier, skin more sallow. He looks strung out. Shocker.
“Ain’t ya gonna say hi to your old man?”
“Hadn’t planned on it, no. And maybe you couldn’t find me because I didn’t want to be found.
” I turn toward the exit, not bothering to look him in the face but clocking him in my periphery as I step to the door.
Images of walking the carnival with my parents as a kid and never being able to participate in all the fun flash through my mind.
No money for that crap. Yet they pounded beers all night every night the damn carnival was in town, wandering around, dragging me with them until so late into the night I almost passed out on my feet.
Probably their idea of good parenting—taking me to a carnival—and probably why I hate this place so fucking much.
“Well, it seems we have something for you. So you may want to talk to me if you expect to get it.”
“Pretty sure you’ve got nothing I want.”
“That’s fine. Happy to keep it for ourselves. Just need you to sign it over.”
Sign it over? “You’re not getting anything from me. So you can forget you saw me.”
“Maybe I’ll just ask your little girlfriend your new address. Pay you a little visit, deliver it personally.”
I stop cold. I don’t want him anywhere near me or anyone I care about. I spin on my heel and move to within an inch of his waxy face.
“Did you forget I know where blondie lives?” He continues his cryptic taunting with a sneer that shows yellow teeth to match his skin, the stench of stale cigarettes and alcohol drifting from cracked lips to slither into my nostrils.
Blondie. Taya. He doesn’t know about Everly. My relief is short-lived. “I’ll catch her at home one of these days.”
He’s been to her house. The realization draws my shoulders down and drops my chin. He was Mitch’s mystery visitor. Exhaling, I close my eyes for a second, maybe two. “Fine, Todd. What do you want?”
His brittle laugh precludes his rebuff. “No way to address your dad.”
“You’re not my dad. You never were.”
“Well, your momma says different.”
“Takes more than genetics to make someone parents, Todd.” I use his given name again in spite.
I don’t know why I’m standing in the men’s room having a pissing contest with this degenerate or even wasting my breath, but I can’t seem to help myself.
Maybe I’m stalling, trying to figure out how to get out of here without him seeing Everly or Taya, who are surely waiting outside for me by now. “Where’s Brandi? She here, too?”
“Show some respect, boy. Your momma is at home. She’ll be happy to see you.”
“First time for everything,” I mumble. For his ears, I add, “Look, my friends are probably waiting for me. I’ll come by tomorrow?” I hate that it comes out like a question, like I’m asking permission.
“Right. You been MIA for years now. I’m supposed to believe that? Maybe we should invite your friends to join us. But you don’t want that, do you? Been ashamed of where you come from since you were born.”
Despite being taller and bigger than him now, my throat bobs as sweat trickles down my spine.
He’s spot on that I don’t want Ever, or even Taya, to see Todd—find out who he is, where I come from.
Taya’s never even seen the house I grew up in.
She knows it’s in the trailer park—small towns.
Still, it’s more than just not wanting them to know.
Todd is dangerous. Way worse than my mom.
She at least acted like she cared sometimes.
He, on the other hand, never did. Maybe it’s just the old tapes playing in my head, muscle memory or whatever, because the man standing in front of me doesn’t look like much.
He looks thin and strung out and much smaller than I remember.
Pretty sure I could take him, but the little kid inside me feels panicky, uncertain.
His eyes are still the same—pupils dilated, cold, black and, if you look close enough, dead.
Maybe it’s the eyes triggering my core memories causing the low-key panic that’s tripping my heart rate and making my pits sweat.