10. Chase
Chase
Two nights in a row, I’ve lain awake, waiting for the sound of shuffling feet from below my window. It never comes.
I’ve filled pages of my journal trying to empty my head, thinking that if I can just get the worry out of me and onto paper, it might leave me alone long enough to find sleep.
It hasn’t helped.
I haven’t slept properly in forty-eight hours. Instead, I’ve been freaking out about Mom and watching Summer’s house, waiting for something terrible to happen. Shouting. The crash of items being thrown. Anything.
Instead, there is only silence. Again.
I’m jolted from my thoughts when Steele chucks a scrunched napkin at me from across the table.
The guys messaged me this morning, losing their minds over the swell. They weren’t wrong—it was good. I figured I might as well get out and see if I can take my mind off Summer. Off my mom.
It didn’t work.
We’ve grabbed ice cream from the Melting Point, a little shack near the pier, and snagged one of their tables by the water. My hair is still damp from the ocean. Our wetsuits are peeled down to our waists, and the breeze dries the salt to our skin.
Normally, the water resets me. Clears my mind. Good waves, good weather, good company. But I can’t focus on anything except her.
I haven’t even touched my sundae.
“Huh?” I ask, looking up.
“I said, did you hear me?” Steele snorts. “What’s gotten into you these last couple days?”
He shovels a ladle-sized amount of ice cream into his mouth.
“Sorry, I’m just … distracted. What did you say?”
“I said Addie still won’t speak to me.”
Jasper points his spoon at him. “Do you think it has anything to do with the fact that you humiliated her?”
Steele’s jaw tightens. “I was the one humiliated.”
Xavier scoffs.
“I was,” Steele repeats, harder this time. “Do you know what it’s like to have everyone point and laugh at you? It’s fucking embarrassing. Her period, man.”
“All right, all right.” Jasper holds up his hands. “But you were pretty harsh on her.”
We wait for Steele’s response. Finally, he rolls his lips, the light in his eyes dimming. “Fine … yeah, I was.”
“You’re an idiot,” I add.
“Shut up, Whitmore.” Steele jabs his spoon at me. “Like you can judge.”
“The hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you can’t sit here and give me shit about Addie when you don’t have the balls to do anything about your little crush on Summer.”
“We’re friends,” I fire back.
Steele coughs into his fist. “Bullshit.”
“What’s your problem, man?” I ask.
Xavier’s mouth curves upward. “He’s got sand in his vagina about Addie.”
“Screw you,” Steele shoots back.
Xavier turns to me. “Buuut, speaking of Summer, she cleans up nice. Her body in that tight little dress.” He leans back, smirking. “Gotta say, didn’t know she had it in her. Might make a move myself.”
“Don’t fucking speak about her that way,” I growl, hurling all my pain and anger at him.
“Dude, relax,” Xavier says, holding up his hands. “I was joking.”
“Well, it’s not fucking funny,” I warn.
“All right, you guys,” Jasper says. “Xav, that’s enough.”
I glare at Xavier, jaw tight, daring him to keep going.
He must see something in my face because he backs off. “Shit. My bad, Whitmore.”
The tension lingers for a beat before Steele clears his throat. “What about you, Jasper?” He licks melted ice cream off his thumb.
“What about me?” Jasper turns sheepish.
“What happened to the chick you were with the whole night?”
Jasper dips his chin, scratching the nape of his neck. “Nothing, man.”
“Shame,” Xavier says. “She was hot. Should’ve gotten in on some of that.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Jasper laughs, but it comes out flat. His expression falters for a second, but I catch it.
The guys launch into a conversation about some party. I tune them out, watching Jasper from the corner of my eye. His attention is firmly fixed on the label of his drink bottle as he picks the corner.
“Hey,” I say quietly, tapping Jasper’s foot with mine under the table. “You good?”
His eyes jump to mine, then away. “Yeah, of course. All good.”
I nod, not buying it. But I don’t push.
“What about you, Whitmore?” Steele says, bumping me with his shoulder.
“What?”
He rolls his eyes. “Bonfire. This Saturday. You coming?”
A party is the last thing I want. “Probably not.”
“Dude,” Xavier groans.
Steele throws an arm around my shoulders. “Come on. Beach. Bonfire. Beers.” He pumps his eyebrows. “Girls in bikinis.”
“Weren’t you just complaining about Addie not speaking to you?” I ask.
“That’s not the point. I want you to come.”
He’s still not selling it to me.
“Jasper,” he says. “What about you?”
Jasper sucks in a breath before finally answering. “Sure.”
Steele turns to me, brows raised expectantly.
“Fine,” I relent. “I’ll come.”
“That’s more like it.” Xavier smiles.
We finish our desserts, toss our empty cups, and grab our boards from where they’re propped against the Melting Point’s wall.
“You still good to give me a ride home?” Steele asks.
“Yeah, of course,” I reply.
We say goodbye to Xavier and Jasper as they head to their cars, and me and Steele head to mine and tie our boards down in the bed of my truck. I start the engine and pull out of the parking lot. Steele doesn’t say a word. He just stares out the window.
“Hey, are you okay?” I ask, checking in.
“Yeah.” His tone is clipped.
“Is it Addie?”
“Kinda. I guess.” He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “I fucked up.”
“Why’d you blow her off like that? I thought you were crazy about her—”
“I am crazy about her.”
“Then why’d you do it? I know you had a lot to drink, but I didn’t think it was that much—”
“I KNOW!” The words explode out of him, and I flinch in my seat. “I know, okay? I’m super into her and I fucked up everything. You think I don’t realize that?”
When I glance over, he’s staring at his hands in his lap.
A few beats pass. I don’t want to push him, so I stay focused on the road.
He blows out a frustrated breath. “Sorry,” he mutters. “I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay.”
We drive the next mile in silence.
“My parents are getting divorced,” he murmurs.
“What?” I glance over sharply. “Since when? I thought they had like … the perfect marriage or whatever.”
“Yeah.” He scoffs, looking away again. “Perfect.”
“What happened?”
He drops his head back against the headrest. “Mom found videos of him and his new girlfriend together.”
My brows snap together. “What do you mean ‘videos’?”
A pause. “I’m sure you can use your imagination.”
Damn. “I’m sorry, man.”
“That’s not even the most fucked-up part. You wanna know what is?”
My gaze flicks to him.
“She’s the same age as Liv.”
Liv’s his older sister. She’s only twenty. “Oh.”
His chuckle is mocking. “Yeah, ‘oh.’”
“So, what are they going to do?”
“My parents?”
“Yeah.”
He shakes his head. “Dad’s sleeping in the basement.
Mom won’t even speak to him. I’m pretty sure he’s living off a diet of canned beans and tuna fish.
” My nose scrunches. “They’re using me to communicate with each other.
I’m getting text messages and calls constantly because they refuse to talk like normal adults. ”
“Shit, Steele. That’s rough.”
“It’s fucking me up.” His voice drops. “She hates him. And I get it—I hate him too. But I’m stuck in the middle of it.”
“Is that why you were a dick to Addie?”
“I don’t know. I can’t make it make sense.” He rubs his face. “I get so angry and I do these stupid things, and I don’t know why … I just—” He cuts himself off.
“Hey.” I keep one hand on the wheel, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder. He doesn’t pull away. “People do dumb things when they’re hurting. It doesn’t always make sense.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. “When did you get so wise, Whitmore?”
“Ha. Wouldn’t call it wise. But you’ve gotta figure out why you do that.”
“Yeah, well. You’re not a fuck-up like me. You’ve got your shit together.”
“You think I have my shit together?”
“You do. Football team, 3.9 GPA, UCLA. Happy family. Senior homecoming king. Chicks love you.” He shrugs. “You’ve got your shit together.”
I almost laugh. If only he knew.
None of that shit means anything. “You aren’t a fuck-up, Steele.”
He stares ahead. “Yeah, I am. I know I am.”
“You were also on the football team. You got into UCLA. I can say with confidence that you don’t have any trouble with girls.” I frown. “Who told you you’re a fuck-up?”
“My dad.”
What kind of parent says that?
“Your dad, the guy who is sleeping with a girl the same age as your sister? Your dad is full of shit. Don’t listen to him.”
A minute passes. Then he says, quieter, “I’m sorry I snapped at you about Summer. That wasn’t fair.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. You didn’t deserve that.”
I shrug. “Water under the bridge, right?”
He nods, staring out the window again.
“You wanna come hang at mine for a bit?” I offer. “Get away from all that?”
He exhales slowly. “Yeah … thanks, man.”
We arrive at my place, and I pull into the garage, snag my phone from the glove compartment, pocket it, and head inside.
Mom and Dad aren’t home, so I make us some sandwiches and grab a couple of sodas.
We settle in at the kitchen table to eat when my phone starts rattling against my leg. I pluck it out and answer.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Chase! Oh, thank God,” he rushes, his voice strained. “Where are you?”
My face falls. “Why? What’s wrong?”
The grin slides off Steele’s face. He leans forward and mouths, “What is it?”
I shake my head.
“It’s your mother. We’re at the hospital. She collapsed at the bakery.”
“What do you mean? Is she okay?”
The floor opens, swallowing me whole.
“No, son … she’s unconscious.”
The phone slips from my grip.