Always Summer (16 page)

A.J. walks outside as soon as I pull into
the driveway. “I thought you were off today,” he says. “What’s
up?”

I’m only one leg out of the car as he asks
the questions.

“Why weren’t you at work today?” I ask him.
“Or Alston. Were you guys scheduled to be off?”

He shakes his head. “Jace called me this
morning and said to take the day off per Joe, so I didn’t question
it. I needed the sleep,” he says. “Are you okay?”

“No,” I say, walking toward the guest house.
Luckily, I know A.J. well enough to know he’ll follow me inside. I
don’t want to have this conversation out in the open.

He sits on my bed and waits quietly as I
tell him what happened today, from the store being closed to the
moment I left after realizing Jace wasn’t going to budge even for
Kale.

When A.J. finally speaks, he says something
I don’t expect. “You know I’m behind you, right? No matter what
happens, you have me.”

I mean, yeah, I know that A.J. has my back.
He’s the only person in Crescent Cove who hasn’t let me down in one
way or another. Even when he threw me off the jet ski, that was a
blessing in disguise because I realized how misunderstood he
is.

“You don’t think people will turn against
me, do you?” I ask. I feel stupid even saying the words. There’s no
way we’re going to fall apart over this.

He shrugs. “I’m just saying, if people start
talking, you don’t know what will happen,” he says, scaring me more
than I’d like. “Kale is a Hooligan. Emily dates one.”

“So do I,” I remind him. I grab my phone
from my purse and dial Topher’s number, just to prove that he’ll be
there for me and has my back too.

But Topher doesn’t answer. He’s probably
with Kale, getting the scoop on what happened. Or he’s with Miles
and Emily, helping his best friend console a crying girl. He’ll
call me back.

“How well do you know Emily?” A.J. asks,
stretching out on my bed.

I can’t believe he’s even going there. Emily
isn’t guilty of this. She’d never hurt Drenaline Surf. Vin took a
chance on her and gave her that job, and she’s enjoyed every second
of being part of this. And she adores her boyfriend. There’s no way
she’d ever hurt his sponsor.

“Don’t do that,” I tell A.J. “Don’t start
questioning everyone. Don’t make me start questioning
everyone.”

“Sit down,” he says, motioning to the bed.
“I love you. You know that. You’re my family. But I’ve been here.
I’ve lived through this before. When Shark died, we all split. The
Hooligans all came together, and the rest of us were on the
outside. Vin was the only link between us, and he was with us more
than them. I’ve seen it play out before. I want you to be
prepared.”

I don’t understand why it has to be one of
us. What happened to the Dominic theory? It’s still very likely
that he’s pumping information to someone. What about Colby’s
parents? They may have an entire team of people working for them to
drag Drenaline Surf down. They have the money. They’re probably not
as broke as they’re pretending to be. If people think it’s Kale,
they could go after any of the Hooligans. It’s only a matter of
time before they say it’s Miles or Theo. If people think it’s me,
it could just as easily be Alston or Logan. No one is safe.

“They’re trying to take us down from the
inside,” I say, letting it all sink in against my will. “This was
the plan. Turn us all against each other, right?”

A.J. shrugs. “I don’t know what the plan
is,” he admits. “But I just know how easily people take sides
around here. Shark’s death, in some ways, tore us apart and in
other ways, brought us together. But this is different. I just want
you to be prepared. And no matter what, I’m on your side. I know
you didn’t do this. But I’ll be honest – I can’t say the same for
Kale or Emily, and that’s how I know someone will say the same
about you.”

After A.J. says to let him handle telling
Reed and Alston, the panic sets in full force. If he doesn’t want
me to tell our own roommates, something is wrong. Maybe he knows
how they’ll react. Kale has become a good friend of Alston’s, and
Reed likes to stay neutral. It may just be me and Jailbird Gonzalez
in the end, and while I love A.J., I don’t want to lose everyone
else along the way.

Once I know A.J. is inside and out of view,
I grab my bag and make a run for the car. There’s one other person
in the cove who I know will have my back until the very end.

“You can’t let this get to you,” Colby says
for the tenth time. He resituates in the corner of his couch.
“Everyone knows you have Drenaline Surf’s best interests at heart.
You always have.”

I don’t say a word, but I narrow my eyes at
him, hoping he gets the message. The more I think about it, the
more guilty I can see myself being, even though I know better. I’m
not from here. I’m friends with Colby. I’m only here because of
him. His parents arrived in the cove the very same day I did.

Kale was right – I’ve read so many gossip
articles and theories that I can actually predict them now. I can
think like the columnists, even when I’m the one being talked
about.

“Everything is stacked against me,” I tell
Colby. “I dated Vin, and he bailed. Then I dated his brother. I
look like I’m dating around within the Drenaline Surf family so I
can gather info or keep my in with them.”

He laughs, and I’m borderline offended
because I’m being so incredibly serious right now. I know it sounds
ridiculous. I hear the words as they come out of my mouth. I
realize I’m reaching the crazy point, but it doesn’t matter.

“I need to be a step ahead so I can brace
myself for the storm,” I say.

“Then become a weatherman. Or weather-woman.
Or whatever,” Colby says. “Think about it. Emily is dating her high
school best friend’s ex-boyfriend. That looks shady. Kale isn’t
even from here, and people could say he was bitter about the
honorary Hooligan status or that he wants to go back to
Hawaii.”

I don’t like his theories. I don’t like the
idea that Emily or Kale is dishonest. I know better. My heart knows
better. But he has a point. Emily isn’t as well-known in the
Drenaline Surf world, so all kinds of dirt could be dug up on her.
She’s a blank slate for the most part, as far as the media is
concerned. And Kale isn’t from here, so they could easily paint
some shady past and evil motives around him. We really were the
easiest targets.

“Or hey, Vin is behind it all and that’s why
he bailed,” Colby suggests. “He’s not on an oil rig. He’s in
hiding. Do you see how stupid this is? I can spin it any way I
want. Hell, maybe it’s me and I’m working with my parents and this
was all part of the plan. Make me a famous surfer. Have a crazy
story for the media. My parents fake a lawsuit, and we all get rich
and famous in the process. See what I mean?”

“Point taken,” I say, defeated. Who knew I’d
need Colby Taylor to talk sense into me someday?

“You want to go for a ride?” he asks. “Just
to get some air and clear your head?”

Right now, nowhere sounds better than his
pier. After today, I don’t think I trust the ocean to wash away the
drama and worries of my world. If anything, I feel like she’s
taunting me, daring me to test her again. Next time, she may not be
as generous as she was the night she released Topher for us. Solid
land is where I belong right now.

“He’s still not answering,” I say, slamming
my phone into the cup holder in Colby’s truck.

After multiple calls and text messages, I
thought I’d have heard something from Topher by now. Emily hasn’t
responded to my text either, but I haven’t blown up her phone like
I have with Topher’s. I just wanted to know if she was okay. I’m a
little offended that Topher hasn’t bothered to do the same for me.
He has to know by now. Kale is a Hooligan, and Miles is his best
friend. Of course, he knows by now.

“Do you think he thinks I’m guilty?” I ask,
even thought I don’t want to know the answer.

Colby shrugs, which is what I feared. He was
here when Shark died. He watched the same thing that A.J. watched.
He saw them come together and push everyone else away. Is that
what’s happening now? Am I being ditched by a Brooks brother yet
again? I really don’t like this pattern.

Colby pulls his truck into a parking lot
near the outskirts of Crescent Cove. There’s a boating ramp off to
the side. A red and white sign catches Colby’s headlights. It has
stick figure drawings explaining how to properly launch and dock
from out here.

I’ve only driven out this far once, and I
was with Vin. But even that one time was enough to be familiar with
the area. Shark’s studio is out here somewhere, all alone, away
from the crowd.

I wonder if Shark used to drive out there
whenever the surf world got to be too much. I bet it was his Zen
place the way the pier is for Colby. I spin around in my seat to
look out the back glass.

Dusk is upon us, in that hazy way where
orange streaks turn gray in the sky, but it’s fitting for today.
There is no beautiful sunset with bright colors hiding behind palm
tree leaves. It’s not camera-worthy, even though I know that Shark
could’ve captured it with his lens in a way to make it
beautiful.

“Is that it?” I ask, pointing back behind
us.

Colby laughs. “Is it crazy that I know
exactly what ‘that’ is without you telling me?” he asks. “Yeah,
that’s Shark’s studio back there. I haven’t been in it since he
died.”

I squint my eyes to see it in the haze, but
I know it’s over there with that
oval-shaped sign
above the front door.
Jake McAllister
Photography.
It’s the same silver logo
that’s on all of his photographs.

“Okay, I know it’s been a long day,” I
begin, “and I know you think I’m crazy, but…is there a light on in
his studio? Please tell me I just can’t see correctly and the
craziness has gone to my eyesight.”

Colby whips his truck
around in the empty boating lot and throws it back into
parked
. He pops his door
open and peers into the distance. “Looks like it,” he
says.

“There’s no way,” I insist, opening my own
door. “Kill your headlights.”

Colby does as he’s ordered. The creeping
nightfall proves him right, though. There’s a light on in Shark’s
studio, which is impossible.

“Oh God,” I say, steadying my balance
against his truck door. My head swims with panic, and I fear I may
hit the pavement.

“Get in,” Colby says, getting back into the
driver’s seat.

He reaches his hand across to help me back
into the truck. I feel so incredibly fragile.

“Maybe it’s Joe or one of the guys,” Colby
says. “We’ll drive over and see if anyone’s car is there,
okay?”

I nod quickly, but I can’t calm the leaps my
heart is trying to take across my chest cavity. My lungs feel
heavy, but I’m thankful for their positioning or else my heart may
have seriously already leapt out of my chest. I feel like a dolphin
out of water.

“Are you okay?” Colby asks. “Take a deep
breath.”

I shake my head. “There are only two people
with keys to that studio,” I tell him. “Joe doesn’t have one. And
the Hooligans don’t have access. There was only one spare key.”

Digging through my purse, I unzip the side
pocket where I’ve had the key stashed since Vin gave it to me a few
weeks ago. Then I hold it up to show Colby.

“You have the spare?” he asks, a bit
surprised.

I nod. “And the other key is on an oil
rig.”

As Colby turns onto the street that leads
down to the studio, I try to convince myself that maybe Vin gave
the key back to Joe. He turned Drenaline Surf over to him, so maybe
he turned over the studio too. But then Joe would’ve gotten my key
from me or Vin would’ve asked for it back. Someone would’ve said
something, regardless.

The thought of someone digging around
through Shark’s belongings, touching his photography equipment and
leaving prints on his photos, makes me absolutely sick. I don’t
even come out here, and I’m technically allowed to. This is like
hallowed ground. It’s sacred. Knowing someone has been here – or is
in there right now – is worse than being placed on administrative
leave. I was trusted with this place, and I haven’t even kept a
proper eye on it. Now someone is using it to probably gain more
information, to find new secrets or ways to bring us down. Maybe
whatever ‘turn of events’ that happened today has to do with this.
Why didn’t I come out here sooner?

A white car is parked outside of the studio.
I don’t recognize it. Neither does Colby.

“Arkansas tags,” Colby says. “Why is someone
from a land-locked state at Shark’s studio?”

I rush through my mind trying to remember if
we stopped anywhere in Arkansas last summer on our scavenger hunt
across America. I don’t recall it, though. Stella’s was in
Tennessee. The coffee shop was in Oklahoma. Did we even go through
Arkansas?

“Let’s go in,” I tell him. “I’m not running
from them.”

“Should we call someone? Let them know?”
Colby asks.

I glance over at him as I pop the door open.
“Who are you going to call? Joe? Jace? Pittman? You can call if you
want, but I’m going in,” I say.

I slam the truck door behind me, just so
whoever is inside will know I’m here and I’m coming in with a
vengeance. Colby eases up behind me, sans phone.

“If we die in a few minutes, thank you for
believing in me,” he says.

For the first time today, I actually smile.
“You have nine lives, Taylor,” I remind him. “If anyone lives
through this, it’ll be you.”

My key proves itself pointless when we walk
around the sidewalk to the front entrance. The door is already
cracked open, so I waste no time and push it forward. A metal file
cabinet slams shut, and he turns around to face me.