Page 34 of Catch a Wave
Summer Monroeis knocking on my door.
Okay. Get a grip.
She’s just another human. She eats and poops like the rest of us.
And, great. Now I’m thinking about Summer Monroe in the bathroom.
I stand and hobble to the door.
“Hey, Kalaine. Are you ready?” Summer’s smile is broad and welcoming.
“Yes. I’m ready to blow this place.”
“Cabin fever?”
“Something like that.”
“Last year Ben got a gash on his foot surfing an area they call Dead Man’s. He had to wear a boot for a while. Not the most fun time trying to get around.”
“I get this off in a week. I have an appointment in Santa Barbara with a specialist.”
I climb into the passenger side of the golf cart and Summer takes off down Kai’s street toward the main road that runs along the beach.
“That’s such good news! We’ll have to host a party to celebrate. A boot’s off party. Maybe everyone can come barefoot. And we can do the boot-scoot boogie …”
“Aren’t you planning a wedding?” I laugh softly at Summer’s enthusiasm.
Kai warned me that she could come across as private and reserved, which would make sense considering her recent riseinto stardom. So far, she’s treated me like a long-lost friend. I haven’t experienced anything closed-off about her.
“Yeah. I am. My wedding. It’s pretty crazy. Especially planning it around auditions and potential shooting schedules.”
“Kai told me your story—well a little of it. You weren’t interested in Ben at first?”
“That’s the actual understatement of the year. Ben did not impress me—at all. I thought he was a player. And those pick up lines. You should have heard him. Wisconsin never saw so much cheese.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Really. But that man is persistent to a fault, and he won my heart over time. He’s nothing like I assumed he was. He’s so much better. So much. I never knew how it could feel to fall head over heels for someone. But here we are.”
Summer glows talking about her fiancé. It’s a feeling I remember, the way just mentioning Bodhi’s name sent a dreamy rush of near levitation floating through my body. I couldn’t contain my smile when I thought of him. I wonder if I’ll ever feel that way about another man again.
We’re quiet. The ocean rolls in off to our right across the sand, deceptively inviting.
“So, you and Bodhi, huh?”
Summer’s question should be harmless, but hearing our names smooshed together like that brings back memories of this morning—his hands on my waist as he lowered me into a yoga position. He didn’t seem as affected as I was. If he was, he held it together out of respect for the lines we’ve had to draw just to cope with me living in his home.
“Old news. We dated for over two years. He had an accident. We stopped dating. He moved here. This is the first I’ve seen of him since our breakup.” I’m purposely giving the Reader’s Digest version of our situation.
“I can’t imagine.”
“What part?”
“Dating Bodhi, for one. Then seeing him after all that time. Then having to live with your ex and your brother under one roof.”
“Yeah. All of that. It’s … awkward.” My mind hears Bodhi sayingawkward, and I replay his apology and the request to befriends.
“We’re trying to be friends now.”
