Wraith (7 page)

I had forgotten, for the moment, that it had
mattered last night. The sight of Zane’s face, frozen in shock, reminded me.

"You… can’t swim? Like… at all?"

"Nope," I said lightly, trying hard to
think of another subject.

"But you were—" He had turned pale, which
for a suntanned ghost was probably a feat. "You were out in the ocean up
to—"

"Yeah, I know. Can we not talk about it
anymore?"

His voice dropped to a disturbing murmur. "I
could have gotten you killed."

I turned to face him. "There’s nothing for you
to feel guilty about. How could you know? The decision was mine, and I did what
I had to do. Everything turned out fine, so let’s just forget it, okay?"

He still looked miserable.

"Here I was," he said darkly,
"thinking I’d finally found something useful I could do with my…
life.
"
The word was uncharacteristically bitter. "When all I really did, instead
of saving a person, was nearly take out two."

"That’s not true," I protested.

"Of course it is!" he argued. "Can
you imagine how I felt, seeing that little girl come out of that door, watching
her wander off toward the beach, knowing there was nothing that I could do to
stop her? Hey, everybody! Look at me! I can walk through walls, I can stay
underwater all day without breathing, I can surf the pipe 66 waves in a row…
but lift a 25-pound kid out of the ocean before she drowns herself in front of
my eyes?
No!
"

He looked away from me, his expression tortured.

"If you hadn’t done exactly what you did,"
I said firmly, catching his eyes again, "that little girl would be dead
right now. You
can’t
regret what happened."

His expression softened a bit, but his voice was
still ragged. "I’m really sorry, Kali."

"
What did I just say?!"
I shouted,
forgetting altogether that I was standing on a public beach yelling into empty
space.

A long pause followed. Then slowly, ruefully, Zane’s
mouth twisted into a smile. "Something about how awesome I look catching a
wave, and how desperately you want to watch me rip this next set?"

I grinned back at him. "Yeah. Something like
that."

I tried to resist. Really, I did. I knew it would
only get me into trouble later. But I was so used to sharing everything guy
related with Tara and Kylee, it felt like lying not to mention Zane at all. So,
I caved.

Hung out with a hot surfer on the pipe this
morning!

That was all it took. It was evening in Wyoming,
Kylee’s current boyfriend was out of town with his family for break, and Tara’s
family never went anywhere. They were both probably bored out of their minds.

Tara’s response was typical.

That’s the deadliest surf spot on the planet! Is he
a pro? Won any contests? Tell me his name; I’ll look him up!

Ditto for Kylee.

SO COOOLLLL!!! Whatd you do? Can u chat online?!

I answered Tara first, because her question
intrigued me. If Zane could only remember a little more about himself—she
probably could find out the rest. Particularly if his mother was famous. But I
would have to be careful. It would be more than a little awkward to tell her I
was talking to a guy and then ask her to find out when and where he died.

No, he’s just an amateur. But he’s good! We did
lunch. Later, getting a tour from  officer’s son. Keep you posted!

Answering Kylee was easier. Names and places of
origin were not the kind of details she cared about.

Nope, vacation strictly low tech. Watched him surf,
did lunch. Later, island tour with officer’s son. BTW—surfer has curly blond
hair. :D

I grinned to myself, even as I made a mental note
not to let Zane anywhere near my phone. Kylee not only loved blond guys, she
had a serious thing about curls. I could hear her shrieking all the way across
the Pacific.

I pocketed the phone, checked myself briefly in the
mirror, and headed out of the bedroom. I didn’t know when I would see Zane
next. After lunch I told him I needed a shower and he had dutifully
disappeared, saying something about how he would "rip a few at Log
Cabins." After having been with him all morning (and a good part of the
night), you might think I would want some alone time. I would have thought so,
too. Yet when a quick scan of the condo, deck, and backyard showed no signs of
him, I felt oddly disappointed.

"What did you do for lunch?" my mother
asked, looking up from her stack of real estate information.

I had to think a moment before answering. In reality
I had packed myself a picnic and let Zane lead me to Sunset Point, where I
learned more than I had ever wanted to know about shortboards, longboards,
beach breaks, reef breaks, northwest swells, tow-ins, and seriously wicked
lefts. (To be fair, Zane also learned more than he ever wanted to know about
fouettés, battements, rond verses, and arabesques—the last of which, to my
supreme amusement, he eventually managed to do on a moving shortboard.) His
enthusiasm for everything to do with surfing was contagious, and despite my
fear of being anywhere near the actual water myself, I had enjoyed the outing
enormously. Never mind that we accomplished next to nothing when it came to
addressing his problem; something about picnicking on a beach in perfect
weather made both of us forget he had one. 

"I made a sandwich," I answered
noncommittally. "Did you find us a house yet?"

"No, we’re still learning about the different
neighborhoods around Honolulu—and the schools. But we found an agent who’ll be
taking us out tomorrow to look at what’s available." She leaned back in
her chair and ran a hand absently through her short, dark curls. "Sure
would be nice if we could just stay here, wouldn’t it?"

I cast a glance out our giant picture windows with a
sigh, imagining myself  in cyber school. Laptop on the deck in the morning;
beach in the afternoon. "Sure would," I agreed.

She glanced at her watch. "Your dad was hoping
to get home before Matt got here, but it doesn’t look like he’s going to make
it. You ready to go?"

I nodded. You would think that two people who waited
forever to have a baby would be overprotective of their only child; thank God
my parents were not. True, they hadn’t let me drive at thirteen like some of
the other kids in Cheyenne, I was subject to certain dating rules, and if they
ever caught me with an illegal substance—not likely—they would ground me for
the rest of my natural life. But otherwise, I had always been pretty
independent. My dad once cracked that I needed to be self sufficient because
they were so old when they had me they didn’t know how long they would last.

"Are we supposed to be out over dinner?" I
asked, wishing now that I had asked a few more questions about this setup with
the mysterious Matt. I knew from my father’s latest conversation with his
father that he was seventeen; a junior; had a perfect driving record; was into
football, wrestling, and water polo; and wanted to go to the Air Force Academy.
Such was the only information my father had deemed necessary.  

"All your dad said was that you needed to be
home by eight. You should take some money just in case… here." My mother
grabbed her wallet off the counter and handed me some bills. Despite my
father's old fashioned ideas about chivalry, she had always believed in girls
paying their own way.

The sound of a car door slamming out front reached
both our ears, and my mother’s eyes caught mine. "If you want out of this
early, send me a text," she said conspiratorially. "I’ll call you
with some excuse."

I smiled. "Thanks, Mom."

She went off towards the front door, and I stepped
over to look out the back windows again. There was no one in sight. I felt
another twinge of disappointment, until I turned around to see Zane’s face
about three inches from my own. I jumped a foot.

"Sorry about that," he chuckled, stepping
back. "You moved a little quicker than I expected."

He had changed clothes again, this time favoring a
deep green muscle shirt and cargo shorts. He surveyed my own outfit, a backless
Hawaiian beach dress I had picked up in Haleiwa our first day here, with
obvious displeasure. "You’re not really going out on a blind date, are
you?"

I suppressed a grin. "It’s not a date. He’s
just giving me a tour. And he’s only doing it because his dad’s making
him."

Zane’s frown deepened. "What do you really know
about this guy, anyway?"

I swallowed, trying hard to hide my amusement. The
whole overprotectiveness thing, if that’s what this was, was new to me. Girls
were supposed to be offended by it for some reason, but I couldn’t see why. I
thought it was kind of cute.

"Would you be serious?" I said with a
smile. "We’re not going clubbing in Waikiki. We’re going for a drive
around the island in broad daylight."

"That’s what he’ll say while he’s deciding
whether he’s interested," Zane continued, his voice edgy. "Once he
gets
interested, it’ll be for dinner. Then, there will be some great local landmark
or other that you just
have
to see, and of course, this whatever-it-is
will be at its best at sunset…"

"Will you stop?" I interrupted, still
smiling. "Where are you getting all this?"

"My mind," he said flatly. "Because
if I were going out with you in that dress, that’s exactly what I would
do."

I stared at him a moment.

I had no response to that.

"Kali?" my mom called out from the hall.
Clearly, the guy in question had made his way up the steps to the front door. I
could hear a deep voice in the background in addition to her own.

"Thanks for the… compliment," I whispered.
"But there’s nothing to worry about, really. I happen to be a very good
judge of character. If at any point I get the slightest inkling that he’s a
serial killer, I promise to ditch him and call home. Satisfied?"

"I’ll check him out for you."

Footsteps started down the hall.

"You will not!" I hissed. "You
promised. No interference!"

He raised one eyebrow, then disappeared.

"Kali, this is Matt," my mother explained,
stepping out into the great room and gesturing for her guest to follow. She
caught my eye as she said it, her unspoken message clear.
Not bad, eh?

I turned my gaze on the newcomer. He was a little
over six feet tall; not fat, but heavily muscled; with deeply tanned skin and
short-cropped, wavy brown hair. His neck was on the thick side, but he had the
kind of honest looking, down-home baby face that softened the effect. The
instant my eyes met his piercing light blue ones, I could read his thoughts as
clearly as I could my own mother’s.

Wow, that’s a relief. She’s not ugly!

I couldn’t help but laugh. I was, after all, thinking
pretty much the same thing.

"Hi, Matt," I introduced myself casually.
"Sorry you got roped into this. But I am looking forward to seeing Oahu—so
thanks."

He smiled back, revealing both perfect teeth and
undisguised relief at my candor. It got me into trouble with girls sometimes,
but guys always seemed to appreciate it. It didn’t make them want to date me,
of course—they preferred the silly, simpering type for that—but they
appreciated it.

After a minimum of polite small talk, my mother
excused herself to return to her paperwork, and Matt and I headed for the door.

"Will you get a coat?" Zane’s voice
demanded irritably. I had no idea where he was, but I could hear him.
"You’re going to freeze in that dress!"

Matt reached the door and started to open it for me,
but after surveying me with another approving look, he stopped. "You might
want a jacket or something," he said helpfully. "It can get pretty
windy."

"Right," I said tentatively, my head
beginning to spin. I appreciated the concern—at some level—but if Zane didn’t
cut out the disembodied-voice thing, this was going to be a very long
afternoon. I grabbed my mother’s jacket, since my own fleece hoody was still
clammy from last night’s adventure, and hurried back toward the door. Zane was
still nowhere to be seen, but just in case, I mouthed a silent plea backwards
down the hall: "No interference!"

We descended the steps to the driveway and hopped
into Matt’s car—a modest sedan that probably belonged to his dad. He put his
keys in the ignition, then turned to face me. "Anything in particular you
want to see? I hear you’ve already done the base and the North Shore, which is
good, because the base is boring and I totally suck at surfing."

I laughed. "Well, I can’t even swim, so no
problem, there. But I would like to see more of the coast. Or maybe we could
drive by some of the high schools around the base? I don’t know where I’ll be
going yet."

He considered a moment. "Okay. We’ll drive up
to Turtle Bay and down the windward side. You’ll like that. Then the high
schools. Mine’s the best, of course."

"Of course. What do you like about it?"

Our initial awkwardness eased up as I coaxed Matt
into talking about what were obviously his favorite topics: football,
wrestling, and water polo. He enjoyed talking about them so much I had little
opportunity to ask some of the questions that popped into my head as we drove
northeast, like why such a huge stretch of beachfront property was devoted to
placidly grazing sheep, where the famous Banyan trees from
Lost
were located,
and whether it was really safe to buy shrimp out of a van on the side of the
road. But I didn’t mind. Though a tad self absorbed, Matt was also refreshingly
humble, talking more about his screw-ups than his successes. I was soon so at
ease with the normalness of it all that I managed to forget about Zane
altogether.