Chapter Twenty-Four
The UPS truck halts at the curb outside of our house. I can’t see it from up here in the attic, but I know the sound of it all too well. Mom probably bought more crap on QVC. It’s like a terrible addiction. She’s more than likely bought an entire new kitchen after that water pipe incident. Of course she’s never home when Tripp brings her packages.
I stumble over pieces of driftwood, some of them pieced together in frames and some sailing alone, and leave the metal pelican near the door. I sort of think my parents just stored all of Secrets of The Sea in our attic. It’ll be a while before that pelican has a new home, but I want him in my possession, just in case I do end up across the Mexican border with A.J.
The wooden ladder creaks beneath my flip flops. Tripp is ringing the doorbell once I round the corner.
“Haley,” he says. “How’d the college search go? Find someplace special?”
Oh yes. Crescent Cove. Horn Island. Drenaline Surf. Strickland’s Boating.
“It was good,” I say instead. “Still have to graduate though before I make a final decision.”
The decision is final, but I haven’t told my parents about California yet. Not that I planned on telling them about the trip. I told them about the awesome college guys we met during our break in Colorado. They happen to be from California. They were scouting colleges too. It shouldn’t have been so easy to lie.
“You’ve got all the time in the world,” Tripp says. He hands over a box that is so not anything from QVC. “You want to sign for that?”
The return address is an apartment complex in Horn Island, California. Hell freaking yes I want to sign for it! I scribble my name in a totally illegible fashion then rush inside even though there’s driftwood and a pelican waiting for me back in the garage.
I don’t even bother taking it to my bedroom. I rip through the tape with Mom’s butcher knife and land my hands on a copy of Crescent Cove’s local newspaper. I already know the verdict. I heard it the moment it was announced while sitting at a gas station in Colorado the day after we left when A.J. called just as he promised. But I still squee like a total Hooligan fangirl when I see the headline.
DRENALINE SURF SIGNS HORN ISLAND SURFER MILES GARRETT
There’s a picture of Topher and Miles next to the article. And there’s an envelope full of actual pictures taken the day of the competition. The note included reads Courtesy of Strick. It’s the next best thing to actually being there.
I drop them back into the box and rush up the stairs to hide it away in my room until Linzi can come over and see it all for herself. And that’s when I see it. The large, thick envelope under the foam peanuts. They fall like chunks of snow around it as I pull it from the box.
I peel off the lime green sticky note. It’s in Vin’s handwriting, and for once, I think he actually tried because it’s easier to decipher than his Drenaline Surf invoices.
A.J. broke into Taylor’s house for this. I had to pay for a new window. A.J. said it was worth it. I hope he was right. – Vin
My heart pumps and surges like one of those Horn Island waves bouncing off those huge, jagged rocks. There’s more bubble wrap in the envelope than anyone would guess could actually fit in there. And A.J.’s packing job is perfect. There are no broken pieces nor the slightest scratch.
Sunlight dances through the window and catches every blue shade of Solomon – iceberg eyes, Ocean Blast Energy, Kale’s flower lei, and the Crescent Cove water.
A.J. was right.
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Acknowledgments
These people deserve paper stars, sugar cubes, and a vacation in the cove. (Yes, Emily, you can go to Horn Island instead.) Thank you to...
*Brittany Oliver and Olivia Butler, for reading my manuscript when you could've been reading a published book. You’ve both given me priceless feedback.
*Carolyn Truong, for being my California sister and for the super sweet texts about A.J., which I still have saved on my phone.
*Rachel Schmermund, for being my forever-cheerleader; for chasing after and capturing impossible dreams with me; for Yellowcard; and for suffering through the summer heat, drunken idiots, and a "barrier" just for me to have the experience of hearing TheDavidDesrosiers sing live.
*Emily Godwin, for being the best sister ever; for being #TeamCrescent from the moment this book was a vague idea about a dead surfer and "Strickland's Ship"; for being enchanted; for Zombie Asylum; for being Miles Garrett's number one fan; for the little things, like A.J.'s dragon tattoo; and for Topher.
About The Author
Nikki Godwin is a YA/NA author of surf fiction and LGBT stories. She can't live without Mountain Dew, black eyeliner, and music by Hawthorne Heights. When not writing, she internet-stalks her favorite bands and keeps tabs on surf competitions. Her favorite surfer is Gabriel Medina. If you ever get her started on surfing or music, she'll never shut up. You've been warned.
Books by Nikki:
Chasing Forever Down (Drenaline Surf, #1)
Rough Waters (Drenaline Surf, #2)
Always Summer (Drenaline Surf, #3)
With You Around (Drenaline Surf, #4) – To be announced!
Falling From The Sky (Bear Creek, #1)
Halfway There (a Bear Creek short story)
Breaking Saint Jude
For more information, visit www.nikkigodwin.net
or follow @DrenalineSurf on Twitter!
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