Chapter Nine #2
I round the counter wordlessly and reach underneath to pull out the rental paperwork. I’m poised and professional as I attach it to my clipboard and slide it in front of him.
Jamie continues to stare at me, not moving. When I drag my eyes up to his, he tilts his head, his expression unreadable. “A pen?” he asks.
This is torture. I’m not sure if I’d rather he beg for forgiveness or yell at me for stealing his boat. But this, whatever this polite bullshit is, sucks. I glance at Tech, and he nods as if telling me I’m doing a great job.
With that, I take out a pen and set it on top of the papers with a loud click.
“You’ll sign here,” I say, pointing to a line at the bottom. “And initial each of these,” I add, tapping several other lines.
It would be responsible for him to read over the contract, but he just signs it and pushes it back toward me.
Not a care in the world. He opens his wallet again, digging through until he pulls out an American Express Gold Card.
It figures he’d have a Gold Card by now.
I mean, he has his own boat. The perks of the Collective life, I guess. The life he used to say he didn’t want.
“Tech,” I call, turning to him again. “Can you grab me the card machine?” Our register is old-school, cash only. Tech walks inside the Shack, and the screen door slams closed behind him as if accentuating his annoyance.
With Jamie’s hand still extended, I reach over to pluck the Amex Card from between his fingers, but he holds it firmly. Surprised, I look up just as he leans toward me.
“You don’t think one fifty is a bit uncalled-for?” he asks, studying me. “You told me in the sheriff’s station that stealing was a onetime thing for you.”
I hold on to his card, neither of us giving in. “You must be confused,” I tell him. “This is free-market capitalism. Sunset Beach is just down the way if you want to go there instead.”
Jamie watches me for a moment, his eyes trailing over my face with a mixture of admiration and regret.
And, of course, a bit of irritation. I’m sure he’s still upset that we messed up his boat, which I get.
So then why did he show up here today? Why pay my ridiculous price?
No matter what I did yesterday, he still owes me an explanation.
Reluctantly, Jamie lets go of his card, and my hand snaps back. I’m disappointed at the sudden loss of tension, a tether between us.
He leans his elbow on the counter, looking down the dock. “So you and Matteo Mancini?” he says casually. “Was that actually a thing?”
“Do you really want to know?” I ask. He flinches slightly, but then shakes his head.
“Nope,” he replies.
I have a flash of guilt. I’m not trying to hurt his feelings, even if he’s the one who ended things between us. Despite everything… I could never hurt him.
“It was barely a thing,” I admit, and when he starts to smile, I add, “Don’t gloat.”
“Just think you can do better, is all.”
I’d tell him to stop gaslighting me, but I said something similar to him about Jordan Miles. I don’t want to be a hypocrite. And I figure, this is okay—this interaction. It’s easy enough. It doesn’t hurt too bad. We just… keep it friendly. Casual.
“Hey,” I say, drawing his attention again.
“I really am sorry about your boat. I thought we had a good reason. I thought it would be worth it—that it would change things around here. But it didn’t.
” I look past him to the others waiting near the water—the Collective wholly unaffected.
My heart sinks knowing we risked it all for nothing.
Jamie’s eyes weaken as he watches me. Reading me. “I don’t care about the boat,” he says, low and heavy.
He’s sorry—sorry about us. And it draws me straight to him. I couldn’t stop the pull if I tried. It’s longing. It’s aching and sad. It’s me, desperate to know what happened. All that, but not a single word comes to mind for me to say.
The door opens suddenly as Tech returns with the card reader. Jamie and I both straighten up, the moment fading away, and Tech clunks down the heavy machine between us. It’s one of those old-school sliding ones that takes an imprint instead of running the credit right away.
Back to business, I place Jamie’s card in the slot and then slide the top of the machine over it with a clacking sound. But when I start to fill out the receipt, I realize the name on the card is actually Brent Matthews.
When I look up at him, Jamie glances to where my pen is paused at the name line.
He shrugs in response, clearly embarrassed.
I’m guessing he’s not supposed to use this card.
But I’m not here to judge. Not when it means sticking it to someone from the Collective.
I fill in the name and push the receipt toward him.
When he signs for it, he indeed uses the name Brent Matthews.
Jamie sets the pen down, a little unspoken secret between us. We can just add it to the pile, I guess. I motion toward the rack of surfboards.
“Matteo will want a thruster,” I say, pointing to the right side of the rack. Jamie hums, as if not thrilled that I know that. But then he thanks me, and starts that way. I smile a little—I know what kind of board he likes too. “The blue longboard is on the back side,” I call, and he pauses.
When he turns around, he smiles—slow and devastating, not that he has to try. My heart strums along, easy. Even a little happy.
“When’s the last time you went surfing?” I ask, a little curious.
He laughs, running his hand through his hair as he thinks about it. “At least two years ago,” he admits. “Although, I think it might have rained that whole summer.”
“We did spend a lot of time indoors that year,” I say. He nods like he remembers it well, as he should. No matter how mad I got at him, no matter how much I cursed him, I always knew that no one in the world could ever kiss me as good as Jamie Matthews.
As if sensing my thoughts, his licks his lower lip. He can still make me blush.
“Well, you should have kept at it,” I tell him, making him raise an eyebrow. “The surfing, I mean,” I clarify, making him laugh. “You were good.”
“I wish I could have,” he says earnestly.
I was the one who taught him how to surf. Our days were spent on the beach, while our nights were hidden away and whispering secrets. Stripping down and making promises.
Promises that he later broke.
And just like that, the invisible string between us snaps, my smile faltering. Jamie seems to feel it too. It’s like the past is too painful, too fragile. It’s hard to believe that something once so unbreakable could ever shatter.
“I’ll, uh…” He motions toward the boards, and I tell him to have at it.
He walks away, and I watch him, studying his movements as if I can pinpoint exactly what’s changed. Find the flaw. But that’s the shitty part. He’s still as familiar as ever.
Jamie happens to grab my most expensive surfboard for Matteo, which makes me a bit nervous, but I also know it’s the one Matteo would have picked for himself. Jamie finds his longboard and a kit. He loops the bag over his wrist and then puts a board under each arm.
He starts toward the group, but as he crosses the sand, he looks back over his shoulder at me. “I’m glad I got to see you again, Noa,” he calls.
I hold up my hand in a wave, hurt at how his voice sounds like a goodbye. I can’t even say anything back, watching him walk away instead.
Shawn slides up next to me at the counter. “Why’d you give him his board?” she asks, as if already knowing the answer. “And don’t say because he’s cute.”
“You think he’s still cute?” I ask, looking sideways at her. She lowers her sunglasses to check him out, really sizing him up. She shrugs.
“I’ve always thought he was cute. But he’s a heartbreaker. You know better than anyone.”
“You would think,” I reply, not sure how to fill in the emptiness Jamie’s left behind. Especially now that he’s back on my beach. For her part, Shawn doesn’t offer any advice, either. Some things aren’t really fixable.
As Matteo and Jamie prep the boards for the water, I grab the stopwatch and set the time for an hour.
Jamie’s first in the water, not looking half bad as he paddles out.
Matteo fastens his ankle strap, and as he wades into the ocean, he glances in my direction, knowing I’ll be watching.
He blows me a kiss before pushing his board forward and sliding onto it, paddling out into the open water. Still so full of himself.
“Pretty sure that one is obsessed with you,” Shawn sighs out. She checks on Jordan and Hailey, lounging in the sand as they hover close together on their phones. With a withering sigh, Shawn goes gossip with Tech as I watch the water.
I wouldn’t exactly call Matteo obsessed with me.
Over the course of three or four months, he and I had a thing—a situationship, I guess.
We would meet up at Bonfire Beach—a local Chaser spot away from the prying eyes of our parents or the resort.
Sometimes, we’d head back to his house if his dad was traveling on another business trip.
Matteo and I would talk, we actually talked a lot, and there were times when I think we actually liked each other. I even confided in him about my mother’s death, how it was breaking me. He was kind then. He really was.
But one day at his house, I overheard him talking with his dad.
His father demanded to know if he’d been running around with beach trash.
Matteo must have thought I was still upstairs, because he was brutally honest. Cruel.
Needless to say, I walked right out the back door, past his infinity pool, and onto the beach to walk home.
I never told Matteo that I overheard him that day, never told anyone. Even now, he has no idea why I can’t stand him. And I think that’s why he keeps coming back—his ego.
The phone rings, startling me, and Shawn strolls over to pick it up, announcing they’ve reached the Surf Shack switchboard. She listens before lifting her eyes in my direction. It must be about me.
“Sorry,” Shawn says into the phone. “She’s a little busy right now, Sheriff Castillo. But I’ll let her know.” I roll my eyes. I have no desire to talk to my uncle right now. Shawn fights back a smile. “No, of course she’s not standing right in front of me.”
I cover my mouth, listening as Shawn uh-huhs her way through the conversation. Just as she hangs up, Tech comes over to join us.
“Seems lover boy’s boat is ready to be picked up,” Shawn announces.
“Picked up?” I ask, checking the empty spot at our dock. “Why? I thought they were dropping it off here. They said it’d be back around five.”
“Isn’t it fun to deal with the government?” Shawn asks. “At least the sheriff said we can use his trailer to pick it up. You want to come along? I’m sure your uncle wouldn’t mind the chance to scold you some more.”
I laugh, softly. “No, you two go ahead,” I say. “I’ll stay back here and watch our boards.”
“Yeah,” Shawn says with a grin while Tech goes to grab the car keys. “I’m sure that’s what you’ll be watching.”