I don’t want to come off like a dick, but at school I could have any girl I wanted. Not that there was any way I was going to be a player like my old man. The point is, I’d never been a mute fucking moron who could hardly string two words together before. But now…
She offered to drive me home and I couldn’t help thinking it was just so she could get rid of me, which really fucking hurt. Then I realized we were nearly outside my house, so I made her stop the car.
“Can you drop me here?”
“But we’re not at your place yet?” she said, sounding confused.
“There’ll be fewer questions this way.” Ain’t that the truth.
She pulled over and waited for me to get out. I had to find some way to see her again—to let her know that I wanted to spend time with her. So what did Mr. Fucking Genius come up with?
“Will I see you again?” Yeah, right.
She looked puzzled.
“I expect so. Everyone bumps into everyone on the Base. Now, promise me you’ll study this afternoon.”
Oh God! So not what I meant! But I couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Okay, Caroline. See you later.”
“Bye, Sebastian.”
I climbed out of the car and watched her drive away.
I walked home slowly. Mom was still in bed. No fucking change there.
The next day, I was still no nearer to deciding how to get to see Caroline, without coming off like a crazy stalker guy.
Irritated at the direction my thoughts had taken, I stared down at my text book. Just a few more months and I could get out of this shithole and never come back. Except that … Caroline was here now.
The main house phone rang, interrupting my thoughts.
Sighing, I picked up the receiver.
“Hunter residence. May I help you?”
Nobody responded. Probably a telemarketer. God, I hated that. What a fucking tedious job.
“Hello?”
And then I heard her soft voice.
“Hi, Sebastian … it’s Caroline.”
I couldn’t help taking a sudden, sharp breath.
“Caroline, hi! How are you?”
“Good, thanks. I was expecting to reach your mother…”
No! Talk to me! “I had a free period — and I’m graduating on Thursday anyway.” Idiot! Don’t remind her you’re still in school!
“Oh, well, as luck would have it … I wondered if you could help me—with an article I’m writing?”
“Sure, anything!” Oh, God, I’ll do anything for you.
Her voice sounded firmer now.
“Well, when we were talking at the barbecue the other day, you mentioned that your friend’s dad surfed—I think you said his name was Ches? Well, I wondered if you could give me his number; I’d like to speak to him.”
What? Fuck, no! She liked Ches?
“You want to speak to Ches?” The words nearly choked me.
“Well,” she said, hurriedly, “I really wanted to talk to Ches’s dad. I’m writing an article about personnel from the Base who go surfing. I thought it would make a great piece for City Beat.”
“Oh, right.” I was ridiculously relieved. I hoped that she couldn’t tell. “Sure, I can get you that. We were going to hang out at the beach this afternoon. There’s a swell coming in off the Pacific that looks awesome. Mitch was going to ride with us. You want to come, too?”
Please say yes. Please say yes!
“Mitch?”
“That’s Ches’s dad. He’s a Staff Sergeant.”
“Well, that would be great.”
I could have got down on my knees and thanked God.
“What time were you going to go?”
“About 3:45. We could pick you up?”
“Um … are you going to Point Loma again?”
I wondered why she wanted to go there.
“Maybe … we were going to sort of drive around till we found the best break.” That’s what we usually did. Please come with me!
She hesitated long enough for my heart to stop.
“In that case, yes, I’d love a ride,” she said. “Are you sure it’ll be okay with Mitch and your friends?”
“Sure!”
Damn. No points for being cool.
She gave this cute little laugh. Hell, if I’d heard the desperation I knew was leaking through my voice, I’d have laughed, too.
“Well, okay,” she agreed at last, “but I’d feel happier if I could talk to Mitch first.”
“No, it’ll be fine. Really.”
I don’t want to give you Ches’s number! Talk to me. ME.
“I really think I should,” she said, gently.
Fuck. I couldn’t say no to her. Reluctantly, I gave in, reeling off Ches’s number.
“So I’ll see you after school—um 3:45. I’ll pick you up. Um, Mitch’ll pick you up. Um, 3:45 pm. Okay?”