With You Around

You sure you want to be the one to tell him? Vin glances over at me from the driver’s seat. The moonlight casts an eerie shadow across his face, leaving his cold expression more haunting than usual.

Aside from the blackmail bombshell we’re about to drop at 2311 Dolphin Point, it’s a normal night in the cove. Colby’s truck sits in his driveway, a waxed surfboard sticking out of the back end. Paw prints and tire tracks weave through the sand. A wetsuit hangs over the rarely-used grill. Everything is as it should be.

But I know that everything changes from this moment on. Threads have been pulled. Seams have been ripped. The cloth we’re cut from will have to fall apart before it can even dream of being sewn back together. That’s what hurts the most. There is no easy option. There are no shortcuts. We have to enter the trenches and dig our way out because it’s literally the only way through this.

It’s better if I say it, I say, standing firm in my decision. There’s too much tension between you guys already. The wrong facial expression could set him off.

Are you calling me smug? Vin asks. He cracks that classic Vin Brooks smirk that still gets under my skin.

That! I point a finger at him. "That right there is the very reason I’m telling him. And you better get your poker face on before we walk through that door."

I’m just your wingman, Sunshine. Vin holds his hands up in surrender. I’ve got your back. You can do this.

It’s hard not to react to Sunshine. I’m so mad at Vin for leaving the way he did. I’m mad at Topher for assuming I’m guilty in this blackmail scandal. But I can’t deal with the Brooks brothers and matters of the heart right now.

I open the passenger side door and force myself out onto the sand that Colby pretends is a driveway. I follow the tire tracks from his truck to the back patio, the same path I’ve walked multiple times to chew him out, aid in his defense, and continue our forever chasing. My legs move slowly, like heavy sandbags being dragged from a ship back to dry land. I stop on the concrete long enough to inhale deeply.

There’s no easy way to shatter your friend’s world. Telling him won’t even be the hardest part. It’s the aftermath. It’s the betrayal of friends. It’s the defamation of a precious legacy. It’s the unraveling of everything that Great White Surf has been up until this point. As long as I don’t walk through that door and spill the truth all over the expensive hardwood flooring in Colby’s living room, we don’t have to face the morning after. I slip my fingers around the door handle and slide the glass door back. Colby looks up from the couch.

Was Pittman able to help? he asks, pushing himself up. He walks over and meets us at the kitchen counter. Did he give you anything?

I don’t know where to start. So I just rip off the bandage.

It’s Kale, I say. I exhale, breathing away the burden of telling Colby. He’s the one who’s blackmailing Great White Surf. Your parents are paying him off.

Colby leans forward, propping his elbows against the countertop, looking across the kitchen at the refrigerator rather than making eye contact. He shakes his head and turns toward me.

You’re sure? I mean, Kale? Why would he even... His voice trails, about like mine did when I asked the same onslaught of questions to no one in particular.

It’s been over half an hour since I sat on Alex’s couch, listening to Caleb the hacker ask us if we knew someone named Kale Nakoa, and it still hasn’t really sunk in yet. After the initial moment of shock, I asked the same things – Are you sure? Why would he blackmail Great White Surf? Are you sure? How could a West Coast Hooligan be behind any of this? I mean, really, are you one-hundred percent sure?

I’d asked the questions in a panicked rush while Vin remained calm, the steady voice of reason. He asked for bank account information, how long the deposits had been going into the account, and how much Kale was being paid and how often. He was professional, like it wasn’t the shock of the century that Kale was behind the evil that’s been bringing all of us down. Of course, none of that information matters because we can’t use it.

It’s a lot to take in, Vin says, calmly and emotionless. He eases up against the counter, next to Colby. We have enough information to know he’s definitely the one, but we can’t use any of it because it was obtained illegally.

Well, isn’t that just perfect? Colby snaps, spewing sarcasm across his kitchen. He slams his palms against the countertop.

Hey, we’re gonna find a way, Vin reassures him in a voice that even I believe. We’ll find a reason to investigate him, even if it requires investigating all of us. We just can’t take Alex down with us. He risked his job to help us, and he didn’t have to do it.

It makes sense now. Kale was there that night with Emily, Logan, and me. We were all the perfect pawns, outsiders to the Great White Surf family. We were the newcomers, the ones who may have something hidden in our pasts. And more so, no one bothered to look into Kale because he was so much deeper in the inner circle. He even twisted the focus in Logan’s direction, making me doubt my gut instinct that Logan is truly a good guy.

So what do we do? Colby asks. He pushes away from the counter and strolls over to the living room. He falls back onto the couch. I can’t just sit here and do nothing. This is my life that’s on trial. We need a game plan.

Vin nods toward the living room and follows Colby’s steps. He exhales visibly before looking toward me. He doesn’t say anything, but I know that look in his eyes. He’s already thought this out. He has a plan. And he clearly doesn’t like it.

We need Kale to slip up, Vin says, sitting a few spaces over from Colby on the couch. If he thinks we suspect someone else, he’ll let his guard down. He won’t be thinking about the amount of evidence that could bring him down. He’ll think he’s gotten away with it.

Now I know the reason behind the icebergs in his eyes tonight. Vin needs me to play guilty. The only people who could convince Kale that they’re guilty are Logan, Emily, and me – and I’m the only one of us who knows the truth. Vin glances back toward me but doesn’t say anything. He won’t dare ask after all that’s happened.

But I have to do it for Colby.

What do you need me to do? I ask. I don’t sit down with them. I can’t bring myself to sit still and take this all in. Adrenaline surges through my veins like a barreling tube ride.

No, Colby says, shutting down my willingness to be a sacrifice. We’re not throwing you under the bus. I’d rather all of our lives be put under a microscope than throw you to the wolves.

We have to do this, I say, hoping Vin will back me up. I force myself between them on the couch but face Colby. "I’m completely innocent. My bank account checks out. My alibis check out. I’m good. We just need Kale to think I’m being investigated. It’ll buy us time. We don’t need the law looking into you. You may say you ran away, but if the right lawyer gets a hold of this case, they can say you faked your death, and then you’ll have more than a blackmail case on your hands."

I don’t like saying that out loud. We all know Colby staged his disappearance to look as if he’d died. He never says the words because he refuses to put them into the universe, but everyone knows it’s the truth. He didn’t just run away in a moment of overwhelming stress. I don’t want his dream of a surf career to be what ultimately lands him in a prison cell.

She’s right, Vin aids in my defense. If your parents can afford the right lawyer or someone who will play dirty for them, they could make this a lot worse than it already is – and it’s a full moon as far as the wolves are concerned.

Colby looks away from us, burying his face into his hands. This isn’t fair, he mumbles.

No, it’s not, Vin says.

For a second, his voice slips back into the snarky know-it-all he tends to be. But he catches himself before I can shoot him down with a death glare.

He regroups before he continues. This will make Kale relax for a bit. We need time. I’d already talked to a private investigator before we even knew about Kale. We’ll ask Alex to investigate as well, legally this time. We’ll put the idea in Kale’s head that Haley is our prime suspect when in all actuality, everyone will be investigating him. I just have to find a way to keep him from wreaking more havoc with the Hooligans from the inside.

Colby sighs. You’re on your own with that one, he says. Your brother and his sidekick moved the last of their boxes out this morning. It didn’t take long. They still hadn’t unpacked. Neither of them said much to me, but I heard Topher on the phone saying how they wanted to distance themselves from the situation.

I wonder if Emily decided to get that rental house on the Crescent Cove/Horn Island border. I think about texting her, but then I remember that I’m not one of them anymore. Would she even reply if I did? It’s a good thing my phone is in the car or else I might would try, and I’d probably receive yet another jolt of crushing disappointment.

So that’s what we are now? I don’t know why I even state it out loud. I already know the answer. We all know the answer.

We’ve gone from outsiders to insiders to outsiders again, and now we’re just a situation that everyone wants to keep their distances from. We’ve been tossed out of Great White Surf family and into a pile of paper stars, lost dreams, and gathered dust.

I can’t say as much for you, but I’ve always been a situation, Colby says. His voice is already defeated. This is nothing new to me. Always the liability. My demons are just finally catching up to me.

I take a deep breath and brush the metaphorical dust off my shoulders. Then I guess it’s time to fight those demons – starting with Kale.

Temporarily closed due to water leak.

We apologize for any inconvenience.

– Management

The typed words glare at me from the lime green paper. I had to see it for myself after I saw the news story this morning. No one else would dare show their faces near Great White Surf, so I enlisted the only person who is foolish enough to go with me. Colby insisted we wait an hour or so, but by nine o’clock, I was too antsy to keep waiting.

A flood of emotions sweep over me. I can’t even explain what this feeling is. There’s sadness because I hate seeing all of the glory that was Great White Surf condensed to bolded font and a generic lie. There’s hopelessness because those words are a barricade blocking out so many people’s dreams and futures – mine included. But most of all, I’m just pissed off.

Let’s go, I say to Colby. I can’t stand to look at it any longer.

We stroll along The Strip, past the spot where Emily once sold Enchanters, and down past Summer Snow. I don’t stop, although Tiger’s Blood sounds good right now. Even through these borrowed Oakley shades, I still see the stares and over-the-shoulder glances. I can’t make out the whispers, but I hear them, weaving around us as softly as wind through the palm trees.

I continue toward Colby’s truck, mentally replaying that clip of Vin on the local news this morning. He was the picture of professionalism – khaki pants, polo shirt with the Great White Surf logo, hair spiked to a perfect point, and a calmness in his voice that you can only find before a massive storm.

It’s sickening really. Had I been any other girl sitting at home, flipping through the local channels, I’d have lusted after him, wondering what kind of stories are lost behind those blue eyes. I would’ve wanted to be in his world, even for a moment, just to see who he really was behind closed doors.

That’s the irony of it all. I know exactly who he is behind closed doors.

I could’ve written him a better lie, I yell over the hood of the truck. I jerk open the passenger side door and slam it shut. Water leak? That’s a go-to lie.

Colby looks over at me, but I can’t see his true expression through his shades. This must be what it’s like to live life incognito. I’ve never been on this side of it. I can’t imagine how Colby felt for the last few years, constantly watching over your shoulder waiting for the other shoe to drop.

What did you think of his press statement this morning? he asks.

I sigh. It was exactly what you’d expect of Vin Brooks. He was the epitome of professionalism, as if Kale isn’t bringing us down from the inside, I say.

Neither of us mention that Vin avoided press questions and reporters asking about the blackmail scandal or Colby’s parents or when Great White Surf would reopen. He handled it flawlessly. In the midst of all the drama and betrayal, it’s actually comforting that something feels normal, even if it’s Vin’s behavior.

In all actuality, he doesn’t even need a public relations person. He knows how to use social media, schedule meetings, speak on behalf of the store and its surfers, and handle anything and everything thrown his way. Vin is the face of Great White Surf now, at least as far as business relations are concerned. He doesn’t need me there to smile and talk to the press. Jace might have, but Vin won’t, even if he says the job is still mine.

I don’t like this silence, Colby says. Road noise is okay for a minute or two, but when you’re this quiet, I know there’s something going on in that head of yours. What’s up?

Our neighborhood comes into view, and I motion Colby to keep driving past the condo. I’m not up for going home. I haven’t actually talked to my roommates since I found out about Kale last night. There’s no way I can tell them. This has to stay on a very strict need-to-know level. Right now, they don’t need to know.

When all of this is over, however long it takes, I’m not sure if I want to go back to Great White Surf, I admit. Scratch that. I’m not sure if I want to go back to work for Vin. Regardless of what’s going on at the moment with him, he still fired me for entering Topher into a surf competition. Now he wants to pay me to do that?

Colby’s truck eases into his driveway onto the sand. And Topher, who you risked your job for, isn’t even speaking to you and is hanging out with the enemy, probably right this second, he says.

I rip the sunglasses away from my eyes, pulling strands of hair loose around my face. How did we even end up like this? Maybe I should just go on to college, get a degree, and find another path that doesn’t involve either of the Brooks brothers or Great White Surf or forever chasing.

Colby cracks the door open but doesn’t get out of his truck. Don’t talk like that, he says. We started this together. Paper stars and cover bands. So we’ll end it together, wherever it leads.

I don’t mean to laugh, but when I think that this entire mess began with a paper star and a cover band, it absorbs some of the tension that is constantly in the Crescent Cove air lately.

Do you think I could freelance and manage your career? You know, assuming I don’t go back to Great White Surf. Wouldn’t that be a hell of a note? Move to California, still end up getting that fancy degree my parents wanted, and use it to manage your life? I ask.

Colby shakes his head and laughs. "Haley, seriously, you can do whatever you want. I’m not letting anyone else in my business, and you have Vin wrapped so tightly around your finger, and you don’t even realize it. He’ll let you do anything you want."

He looks down at his buzzing phone. Speak of the devil. Look who’s texting me.

I lean over the armrest in the middle and glance at the words on his phone. Vin met with his private investigator this morning. I have a million questions, and it irks me that I have to speak to Vin through Colby instead of just getting the information myself.

I grab Colby’s phone and reply. Have you told Joe about this? And if so, how much have you told him? Also, Pittman – he needs to know you’ve hired a PI in case he sees this person creeping around.

The phone rings in my hand, and I shove it back to Colby. He answers, putting Vin’s call on speaker phone.

Taylor? Vin sounds confused on the other end.

Um, yeah? Were you not trying to call me? Colby replies.

I, um, just thought maybe you were with Haley… You know, no text speak, replying in full sentences, thinking out a game plan. That text had Haley written all over it, Vin says.

Colby hands his phone to me and motions toward his house. I shut the truck door behind me and take the call off of speaker phone, just for safety precautions. While Colby stops to see Dexter, I enter through the garage.

Hey, I’m here, I say into his phone. I walk around the trophy car and enter Colby’s living room. Through the patio door, I see Colby out back with Dexter. What’s the update?

Vin gives me the lowdown while I wait for Colby to come inside. He’s hired Roderick Ivy as the official private investigator for this case, upon Officer Pittman’s recommendation. Joe is aware that a PI is in place, but Vin didn’t tell him that we knew Kale was responsible. Joe still isn’t talking about what the big blackmail bombshell is that required Great White Surf to shut down.

I was on the fence because Joe knows something big, but obviously Kale knows this thing too, whatever it is, Vin says. I just couldn’t do it, though. I couldn’t tell him that Kale is the reason we’re going through this. He gave the guy a sponsorship. I just hope Kale keeps this secret to himself since Joe doesn’t want it out.

After he tells me that he’ll keep digging and see what he can find, I hang up and stretch out on Colby’s couch to relay the information back to him. I only hope Vin can unearth something before Kale makes his next move.

There isn’t enough time to come up with a game plan when I walk into the kitchen. Reed stands by the fridge. I expected him to be at Strickland’s Boating until late this afternoon. Damn it. I wish I could turn around and run, but that would be too obvious that something is up.

He pours a glass of orange juice and takes a sip before speaking. What’s going on with Great White Surf?

I walk over to the counter, mostly to use it as a prop to hold me up. You know as much as I do, I tell him.

How’s that water leak? he asks. He eyes me with a sneaky grin that’s out of character for him. You know that’s a cover up, right?

I nod and try to play it cool, but my heartbeat resounds like timpani drums, all around me in a perfect pounding rhythm. I don’t move because the slightest adjustment in body language could show Reed just how shaky my hands are right now.

I assumed as much, I say. But no one tells me anything now that I’m out of the Great White Surf loop.

There’s a strong sense of doubt in my performance. I know that much. I’m not a villain, and I don’t know how to portray one. I should’ve asked Colby for some tips. He’s always an assumed enemy, even when he’s not.

Reed laughs, confirming my worries that I’m not believable. Sure. That’s why you’re secretly talking to Vin, he says.

I don’t know what you’re talking about, I say. I steady my breathing and try to convince myself that I’m legit. If you repeat a lie enough, it’ll eventually feel like the truth, right?

Haley, I know you were at the police station with him the other morning, he says. "This story is all over Crescent Cove. People talk more than you think. Not to mention you ran out of here later that night and left with him. I saw the rental car