“Yes,” I say finally. “I was happy there.”
“Then come back with me,” Pete says quickly. “Come home.”
My eyes still closed, I see myself walking into Jas’s house; the heat and the rhythm of his party, the warmth of the carpet on his floor. I see his blue eyes spotting me from across the room, beckoning me closer. I feel the heat of his body against mine, smell the warm scent of his skin. I don’t belong in that drug-saturated house with Jas; and I don’t think I belong in the abandoned house with Pete, Belle, and the boys, either.
But Pete is right. It’s time for me to go home.
“I can’t,” I say softly, disentangling myself from his hold. The wind rushes off the water, blowing my clothes flat against my body until it feels like I could take flight. “I’m sorry.”
I turn away from his hazel eyes and his warm arms, begin walking back down to the road. Somehow, I’m going to make my way back to Newport, to the glass house on the hill, to my parents and my dog, to the life I left behind. The life that’s waiting for me. But as I walk away, I hear Pete’s voice carrying over the wind.
“Belle and the boys and I are going to stick around here for a few days,” he says. “So, if you change your mind, Wendy, I’ll be waiting.”
31
My duffel bag feels heavy when I lift it off the second bed in the motel room. It’s hard to believe that I was so happy here in Jas’s arms just a few hours ago. The guy at reception told me that there’s a bus stop about a mile down the road where I can catch a ride down the coast for only forty dollars. When that bus leaves, I intend to be on it. Once I’m closer to home, I’ll call Fiona. Call my parents. I’ll go to therapy if they want me to, I’ll go to rehab. I’ll do whatever they say I have to in order to be back home, to get my life back on track, to go to Stanford like I’ve been planning to do my whole life. I am done chasing phantoms.
“Don’t leave,” says a deep voice behind me, and I spin around, startled. I didn’t hear Jas come in. Or has he been here the whole time?
“I’m going home,” I say, shaking my head and walking toward the door. Jas blocks my way. “Please don’t,” I say softly. “I just want to go.”
“Let me explain—” he starts, but I cut him off.
“I don’t care if you only brought me here to get back at Pete and Belle. Maybe I should, but I really don’t.” Still too tired to be angry, I repeat, “I just want to go home.”
“I can drive you.”
“No thanks,” I say, but he’s still blocking my path. I could squeeze past him, push him out of my way, but the truth is, I don’t want to be that close to him. I don’t want to smell him and feel the heat of his skin next to mine.
“I didn’t bring you here to get back at Pete,” Jas says quietly. He steps aside, but much to my surprise, I don’t run for the door.
Instead I ask, “Then why?”
“That day when you showed up in Kensington, that day when we first met—”
“Technically we didn’t meet,” I interrupt. “It’s not like you said, ‘Hi, I’m Jas, the local drug kingpin, nice to meet you.’”
He nods. “I know,” he agrees. “It felt good. For once, there was someone pulling into my driveway who wasn’t looking for dust. Someone who had no idea that mine was the house where you could always score.”
I lower my duffel bag to the floor and sit on the edge of the bed. Jas continues.
“And watching you surf all those mornings on your own. You were fearless.”
I shake my head. I didn’t feel fearless. I was scared, but I just wanted to take those waves so much. Just like I wanted to find my brothers so much, more than anything. That desire was bigger than my fear—of going to Jas’s party and taking dust, of climbing out my window and driving up the coast with a dangerous stranger, of going to the Jolly Roger.
Jas continues, “And when you showed up at my party, knowing who I was and what I did—I just wanted it to feel the way it felt when you came the first time, when you thought I was just some surfer living by the beach. Because that’s all I ever wanted to be. And you were so angry at me, my god, I didn’t know that someone on dust could be so angry.”
“I don’t really remember,” I say, shrugging.
“Well, I do,” Jas says. “I was stone-cold sober that night and I remember every word you said. You hated me then. It felt like a punch to the gut.”
“So you showed up at my house when you heard Witch Tree was breaking to try to be my knight in shining armor?”
Jas shakes his head. “No,” he says. “More like the other way around. I thought, if I could help this girl find her brothers, that would be the first step.”
“The first step in what?”
“The first step in moving on, leaving my old life behind. See, Wendy, I started selling drugs to make enough money to buy a Jet Ski, a plane ticket, new surfboards and wax. When I started out, I saved every penny. I thought I would just deal for a few months and then move on with my life. But the truth is, I made enough money and more a long time ago. But I didn’t stop dealing.”
“Why?”
He shakes his head. “Maybe I forgot what I actually wanted to do with my life. I’m not sure.”
“Yes, you are.”
Jas takes a deep breath and says sadly, “Pete wouldn’t come with me, not anymore.”
I don’t say anything, so he continues. “Wendy, I meant it when I said that I wanted to help you find your brothers. I have the money. Every time a swell is predicted, we’ll be there. Every time, until we find John and Michael. Wendy,” he says, taking a step toward me, crouching down on the floor in front of me and taking my hand in his. “I don’t just want to help you. I want to be with you. I want to start this new part of my life with you. Will you come with me?”
His blue eyes are filled with hope; he really believes that finding my brothers is his first step in leaving his old life behind, and I can see how badly he wants it. For a second, I allow myself to want it, too. It could be magical, picking up and heading off to Hawaii, Tahiti, Portugal, Mexico; tracking waves like bloodhounds, letting the weather determine our path. Letting Jas take the lead and hold my hand and carry my bags and open every door for me wherever we go.
But how far will we travel? How many days will there be like today? How many dead ends will it take until my heart breaks into so many pieces that it simply can’t be put back together again?
I shake my head. Pete wants me with him in Kensington, wants to build a life with me in the house on the cliffs. Jas wants me for just the opposite reason—he wants to leave Kensington behind with me by his side.
Suddenly, I realize why Pete didn’t tell me the truth about my brothers. Not just because he thought I’d hate him for kicking them out, but because he wanted to protect me from knowing that my brothers were addicts. From the very first day in Kensington, when he told me to let him take the lead, to let my worries go, he wanted to give me the things he thought would make me happy.
But Jas believes I’m strong enough to dive into the deep end with him. He wants to share his adventures with me; wants us to take on the world together. Together, he wants to find my brothers, no matter how sick or drug-addled they might be when we do.
I’m not sure I’m as strong as Jas thinks I am, as fearless. “I have to go home,” I say finally. “I can’t keep coming up against dead ends. I don’t think I’ll survive too many more of them.”
I stand and lift my bag, and this time, Jas doesn’t try to keep me from leaving. I keep my gaze focused on the ground; I don’t want to see him staring at me when I walk away.