During the car ride home from the hospital, Kira tried to drone out the lecture her parents were offering from the front seat. Surfing is dangerous, blah blah blah. She put her hand to her scalp and felt the five stitches that had been sewn there to hold her skin together. Truthfully, she was just relieved it had been the back of her head—losing a little hair was nothing compared to having a scar on her face.
Beside her, Kira's little sister was starting to nod off. She pulled Chloe's head over so it rested on her lap and ran her hand through her sister’s silky brown hair, looking outside at the moss-covered trees passing by.
Mildly distracted, she did her best to respond to her mother at the necessary moments, so she would think Kira was listening. But as the lecture droned on, Kira reached her hand up to the back of her head a second time and finally realized how close she had come to drowning—a fact she would never tell her parents. She didn’t even remember getting out from under the water. All she could remember were the waves pounding her every time she tried to surface and the searing pain of her board hitting her on the head. Kira couldn’t blame surfing. She could only blame her own stupidity. She’d known the waves were too big, but she was too stubborn to stop when she had a point to prove. Hopefully Tristan had been trying to prove a point too—maybe he didn't hate her like she knew his friends did.
When she got home, Kira ran to her room and called Emma. She needed to discuss things with a girl. For most of her life, Kira had been one of those girls that was one of the guys. Now, she needed a girl who was her opposite to help her dissect the situation. After half an hour, headlights pierced through the window and Kira went downstairs to get the door.
"Oh my god," was the first thing Emma said. "We have so much to discuss. Let’s grab some comfort food. Do you have potato chips? I can’t resist."
Kira grabbed some cookies and chips from the kitchen, and led Emma outside to the back porch. She sat on the hammock while Emma curled up on the wicker chair.
"You know, Kira, it’s a little spooky out here. You live kind of far into the woods." Emma hugged her legs a little tighter and searched the surrounding woods for anything terrifying.
"Trust me, I know, but you get used to it." Kira let Emma get the search out of her system, and lay down, peering past the edge of the porch roof to search for stars.
"So who first? Luke or Tristan? Don’t tell me you called me over here just to gaze mysteriously at the sky."
Kira sighed. "I know." She chewed her lip for a moment, thinking. "You choose. I’m just as confused by both of them."
"Well then, I’ve been dying to tell you what a freaking god Tristan looked like when he carried you out of the water. You, of course, were dangling there like a dead fish, but let me tell you." Emma shook her head as if there were no words and fanned herself.
"Wait, he carried me out?" Kira grabbed a chocolate chip cookie. Reliving a near death experience required chocolate, especially when someone just said you looked like a dead fish in the arms of a god. Great description.
"Yes, dummy, how else do you think you ended up on the sand?"
"I don’t know…"
"Well, anyway, let me paint you the picture, because it was like a scene from a movie, or more likely from Baywatch, but still unreal. The guys and I are sitting on the towels, chatting and eating, when suddenly Luke looks up and is like ‘Where’s Kira’ and the guys start to freak out because they don’t see you anywhere. Then, I look out all the way down toward the pier and tell them you moved over there to surf. Dave and Luke just shake their heads at each other, like they know you can’t handle it, and the four of us watch you try to catch that wave. For a second Dave is like ‘she’s gonna do it’ in that awed voice that is so cute. Anyway, instead, we see you wipe out huge, and we all start laughing cause you just looked ridiculous, but then you don’t surface. We are all staring, and after two minutes, we don’t see you, and Luke goes running down the beach.
"Then, out of nowhere, Tristan emerges from a wave holding you in his arms. His body is dripping with water, making the sun bounce off of him, and his arm muscles are bulging. I mean, I practically heard every girl on the beach sigh with jealousy and have a momentary heart attack because of how hot he is. Anyway, he runs from the water, sets you down really gently, and then starts slapping you in the face. I didn’t get it, but we all saw you wake up while we were running over and were so happy, until we saw Luke punch Tristan in the face."
At the mention, Kira groaned.
"Why did he do that?" she asked while grabbing another cookie. A near-death experience followed by your guy friend punching your savior and potential crush in the face seriously required chocolate.
"Because you, my friend, have been dropped right in the middle of a love triangle."
"No!" Kira put her head in her hands. Screw chocolate. She needed vodka. "Luke doesn’t like me like that, we’re friends, okay? Right? And Tristan, well, I don’t even know him."
"Listen to me," Emma said and put her hand on Kira’s shoulder. Kira sat up, looking her friend in the face. "No guy punches another guy over nothing and no guy is as attentive as Tristan is to you over nothing. Something is going on."
Something is definitely going on, Kira thought. But it wasn't so simple as a love triangle—something else was at play. That much she knew.
Emma continued, unaware of the thoughts churning in Kira's mind. "I know you don’t want to hear it, but I’ve never seen Luke watch someone like he watches you, like he’s always looking to protect you. Maybe you should talk to him?"
"Yeah, you're right," Kira replied, wanting to leave it at that and not let Emma know she thought something else was going on. Luke wouldn't tell her anything, which was why Kira had invited Emma over—to dig up dirt that Luke would never tell her. And she couldn't resist asking Emma, the boy genius, about Tristan too. "So, do you think he actually likes me?"
"I knew it, I knew it. You are definitely crushing on Tristan, and, well, who can blame you." Her eyes started to glaze over.
"Um, Emma?"
"Right right, sorry. I love Dave, but a bad boy is always dreamy."
Kira sighed. Just what she didn’t want to hear. "And you think Tristan is a bad boy?"
"Kira, please, let’s not state the obvious. The real question is, would he change for you?"
Kira paused. "No?" She tried to convince herself and Emma that she wouldn’t be the one to try to change him. It never worked out she knew, but in the back of her mind Kira could hear a small part of her say yes.
"I don’t know, not yet. But I will, I promise, even if it takes all the knowledge of boys I possess and a little more snooping."
Kira laughed, happy she and Emma had started this new stage of their friendship. It would be great to have a girlfriend who she could gossip with, and who could help her figure out her disheveled love life, something she had never been able to master.
"Have Tristan and Luke always hated each other?" Kira asked. Emma nodded while munching on a chip. "Do you know why?"
Emma shrugged. "I’d say it was an instantaneous thing. Miles was the first one of us to arrive, then I showed up a day after him, and the next week Dave showed up with Luke right behind him. None of us really knew each other at that point, but I still remember when Luke walked into the lunchroom. We figured we would round him up, but when he walked down the cafeteria aisle, I remember he paused and looked right out the window toward the misfits. They all stood outside and stared back at him with seriously evil smiles. It was like a challenge or something. None of us knew what caused it, but that first day we met Luke he was nothing like he is now. He was angry the whole day and barely spoke to any of us. In fact, the next day we were all questioning if we wanted to let him in the group, but he came back on his second day as the charming person we know and love. Still though, he changes around them. Oh, and there was Bethany."
Emma paused to grab another chip. She chewed on it slowly, eyes losing focus on the forest around them, and Kira want
ed to wring her friend’s neck in anticipation. This was it—this could be the explanation she had been looking for.
"Bethany?" Kira prompted.
"I’m trying to remember all the details. Bethany was the first girl Luke dated, here at least. They met his second week of school, and he was head over heels for her. After a month, we all knew he was in love, but none of us was as sure about her feelings. She was the kind of girl who tricks a guy into falling for her, but keeps a wandering eye." Emma sneered to show her disgust. "The boys all loved her, but I had a feeling something was off. Anyway, there was this party, and Bethany told Luke she was doing homework and couldn’t come out. So, we all went without her, but it was totally lame and we heard people were partying at the beach. We drove the extra fifteen minutes, and when we walked onto the beach the first thing we saw were Tristan and Bethany making out in the dunes. Luke ran over and punched Tristan in the face. By the time we got there, blood was all over Tristan’s face and Luke’s hand, and we had to pull him away. It was messy."
Emma shook her head, and Kira flashed back to Luke’s punch on the beach, somewhat surprised Tristan hadn’t started gushing blood then too.
"Yeah, wow, I didn’t expect that." Kira chewed on her lip. "So I'll be the worst person ever if I try to date Tristan knowing Luke hates him and maybe likes me."
"Eh, fifty-fifty on that, but you have to do what you want." Emma looked at Kira with wide eyes, showing her that she meant those words.
Kira curled back up in the hammock and listened to the breeze ruffle through the trees. That was the clue she had been waiting for, but she wasn’t so happy now that she had it. Even if Luke and Tristan had hated each other from the start, Bethany had been the catalyst, and maybe Kira's presence had dredged up old wounds. She needed to talk to Luke about this.
"Thanks for coming over, Emma," Kira told her friend at the door an hour later. Their conversation had moved past Tristan and Luke and into school gossip. But it became so late that Kira’s pain meds had worn off, and she knew she needed to sleep on everything.
Emma smiled. "You know I’m here when you need me."
They hugged and Kira watched her friend leave before shutting the door and heading upstairs. Instead of lying awake for hours, as she had expected, sleep came almost instantly—and thankfully dreamlessly, considering her tumultuous thoughts.
The first thing Kira did the next morning was Google search for a Starbucks, and then call Luke to meet her there. In New York, coffee shops had been her favorite place to meet with friends, and she needed a comfortable spot to have this conversation with Luke. She loved the smell of coffee brewing and the artsy laid back feel that most coffee shops had. Everyone was in his or her own world, typing away at a computer or talking about the previous days’ events, but it was like a secret community.
Kira’s drive over was solemn, but when she arrived at Starbucks and sat down with a latte, she already felt more relaxed. The indie music of an up-and-coming artist was playing in the background, and she sank into her big leather seat to wait.
Luke walked in about ten minutes later, and she waved him over. When he sat down, Kira didn't really know where to start, so she waited for him to say something.
"So, how’s my hospital patient?"
She smiled. Luke always did make her laugh. "Fine, thanks. And, even though my mom thinks I’m crazy, I can’t wait to try surfing again."
"Such a bad ass." He grinned.
She relaxed finally and tried to face what she had come to say. "Luke, believe it or not, I didn’t just ask you for coffee to swap jokes, I actually need to talk to you about something." He nodded, prodding her on. Kira wasn’t sure how to tell him gently, so she figured the best approach was quick and to the point—like ripping off a Band-Aid. "Luke…I know about Bethany."
"Dramatic much, Kira? It’s not like she died."
She knew him well enough to know he was trying to brush it off, but couldn’t quite. "Emma came over last night and told me the whole story, and I know that’s why you hate Tristan."
"Kira, that’s not even half of why I hate Tristan. Can’t we just drop it?"
"Why won’t you talk to me? I feel like I just got plopped down into the middle of a television show. I know all the characters, but none of the plot." Kira set her coffee cup down. Whenever she was angry, her hands had this bad habit of moving on their own accord, usually in wide sweeping circles that would definitely spill her warm, sugary latte everywhere.
"I can’t tell you. Trust me, I would because I know it would keep you away from Tristan, but I can’t." Luke leaned closer to her—his eyes crinkled at the edges as he pleaded with her to understand him and stop the argument.
"Why not?" She questioned, anger mounting. She had known he was keeping things from her the moment they had met, but she couldn’t guess what it was or could even be.
"I just can’t, okay? Drop it, seriously."
There was an awkward pause. Kira wouldn’t speak until he gave something up, and he wouldn’t give any information away. Luke fell back against his chair.
"So, surfing…"
"Oh, don’t change the topic," Kira snapped to shut him up. "There’s something else I want to talk about too, as long as we’re at a stalemate with the other topic…?"
"We are." He nodded to enforce the finality.
"Fine, then I need to ask you something." Kira picked her mug back up to ponder. On her ride over to the coffee shop, she debated talking to him about this in case it hurt his ego. But, now that she was angry with him for holding so much back and keeping so many secrets from her, Kira had no such reservations. "Luke, do you like me?"
"Sure, what’s not to like?"
Kira stared at him, waiting. Typical of a man to totally misread the question entirely, she thought.
"Oh…” Luke twitched, finally understanding. “I mean, you’re great and all, but I really thought we’d just be friends, you know?"
Kira smiled, totally relieved. "Thank god. Me too. So, why did you punch Tristan yesterday if not jealousy?"
"Plead the fifth?" He grinned like a little boy trying way too hard to appear innocent.
"Luke, this is ridiculous. He saved my life. I would have died if not for him, and you punched him in the face! Seriously, you have got to get over whatever it is that’s between you guys, because I won’t let you punch him in the face the next time he does something nice for me." Not like she knew he ever would. It could have been a one time, “I was the closest person to you”, sort of thing. But Kira hoped not.
"I know you don’t understand but eventually you will. And I hope I’m there to help you when that happens." Luke stood up and left, letting the door slam behind him.
Kira remained sitting and sipped the rest of her coffee slowly. Now she was really confused. Who wasn’t letting Luke talk, or was he just using that as an excuse? Kira had thought he would be a best friend to her, but how could someone who wouldn’t even explain himself be her best friend? Luke was clearly emotionally hurt about Bethany but wouldn’t talk, hated Tristan for something that happened a year ago, and hated him more for something he wouldn’t discuss. Maybe she would have to go to the source of the trouble. And what of him? All she knew about Tristan was that he had been a jerk to her, but then he saved her life. Was that enough to redeem someone whom everyone she knew disliked?
And what of love? Thank goodness Luke had no feelings for her, but Kira needed to decide for herself what she wanted from Tristan. He was gorgeous of course, but she barely knew him. She shouldn’t be catching her breath every time she saw him and getting little chills up her spine at the thought of him. And yet there she was, looking out the window of the local Starbucks, holding her breath and feeling a tingle when he unexpectedly stepped out of a car with Jerome, John, and Diana in tow.
Tristan’s face didn’t have a single scratch from yesterday, and his pale skin wasn’t marred with a purple bruise. Kira was surprised—on the beach it had seemed like L
uke really hit him. But his cheek was pristine as it rose in a smile, a reaction to whatever funny words Jerome had just voiced. Kira watched, heart pounding, as a dimple curved into his cheek and his hair fell over his eyes. Tristan shook with laughter, but he stopped before the others. A dark look slowly gathered back to his face as his mouth curved down, and his eyes became full of his own troubled thoughts again. Kira could read him just as easily as she read other people—she just couldn't read how he felt about her.
Unaware of her presence, the four of them walked toward a sporting goods shop next door. Quickly, Kira drank the rest of her latte, waiting until they went inside before sneaking over and carefully opening the shop door without making a sound. Kira wanted to snoop now that she finally had the chance to get some real unguarded information.
She slowly walked down the aisles, checking each one with a quick peek before entering. She eventually spotted them in the surfing goods section at the back of the store and walked down the parallel aisle, trying to hear tidbits of their conversation. Through a small hole in the shelf, she could just barely see them, but it was enough for prime eavesdropping. They were talking about surfing wax because John needed some.
Great, Kira thought. She was really going to learn a lot on this covert mission.
After a few minutes, staring at what looked like soap to Kira, they moved down toward the boards themselves. Tristan needed a new surfboard—he had abandoned his in the water when he dove in to save her. They started to talk about his rescue.
This was exactly what she needed.
"Why’d you do it?" Kira heard John ask.
Tristan carefully examined the fins of a new board and smoothed his hand along the bottom, testing the curve of the wood. "I knew it would annoy Luke, and besides, we might be able to use her later. Letting her die would have been a waste."
Kira stopped breathing so she could listen closer. This wasn’t about her at all. Maybe he would have even let her drown.
"Good thinking," Jerome praised him.
What was she to them? She would never let herself be used by anybody, ever. The fact that they thought she would was more proof that they were the ignorant ones—not her.
"I don’t think it’s as simple as you make it sound, Tristan." Diana spit out the words, and then put her hand on Tristan's, making him meet her gaze. "I see the way you’ve looked at her. The way you held her when she woke."
"Don’t be absurd." Tristan looked back down, brows knotting, unable to hold Diana's gaze for too long. She threw his hand away from hers and off the board, so he couldn’t hide behind it.
"Jealously doesn’t become you," Jerome said to Diana.
"We’ll see," was all she replied.
Kira didn’t want to trust her ears. Tristan's concern had seemed so real on the beach. But, maybe Diana was right. Maybe he was helping just because he wanted to protect her. Maybe there were things he didn’t want his friends to know. Maybe—Kira started but then her tippy-toe balance failed her and she knocked the shelf, letting a few soccer balls fly off and bounce down the aisle.
Crap, she thought and ran to another aisle to escape before they caught her. Kira heard one of them say to separate and check on who was listening, so she dove into the best hiding spot she could find—a tent that had been set up in the camping section. She zipped it halfway, to prevent from being too obvious, and hid behind the closed part of the flap.
Kira barely breathed for ten minutes until she saw the misfits walk past her tent with a surfboard and head for the cash register. After they left, she slowly emerged from the tent and calmly walked out the door.
"Miss, miss!" She turned to see an employee from the sporting store running after her. "I’m supposed to give you this." He handed her a small piece of paper and turned back toward his store. Kira stared at the folded note, unsure of whether to open it or let it fly away in the wind.
"Hi, Kira. Nice hiding spot. Tristan."
A shiver ran down her spine, of fear or of excitement, she didn’t know. But she did know one thing—he didn’t rat her out to his friends or they would’ve confronted her, which meant Tristan was keeping secrets.
The question was really how many and from whom?
Chapter Four