The Deepest Blue by Kim Williams Justesen Read Free Book Online

out.”
    â€œNo girls.” He grabs the duffle in his free hand and walks down the steps to the truck.
    â€œI’m not five, Dad. I heard you the first twenty times.”
    â€œGood. Maybe after twenty more, you’ll listen to me.” He hops into the truck, tosses the bag on the seat, puts the coffee cup in the holder, shuts the door, and waves. He mouths the words “no girls” one more time and then drives off.
    I head to the computer to message Rachel.
    Mr.Mike2U: You there?
    Sweetthang101: Yeah. Where were you?
    Mr.Mike2U: Getting chewed out by my dad, thanks to you.
    Sweetthang101: What did I do?????
    Mr.Mike2U: I told you he hadn’t left yet. He saw your last message. He specifically said “no girls” so now I’m stuck here by myself.
    Sweetthang101: It’s not my fault he doesn’t trust you.
    My hands ball into fists, and I bang them on the desk.
    Mr.Mike2U: Actually, yes it is.
    Dad is normally pretty cool about things, but Rachel is kind of pushy, and she definitely has a big mouth. I know he just wants me to be smart about my choices.
    I’m waiting for the computer to chime with another message, but instead the phone rings.
    â€œHello?” I already know who it is.
    â€œIt is not my fault that your dad doesn’t trust you, and I resent the fact that you would even say that.”
    â€œRachel . . .” I try to explain, but she won’t let me speak.
    â€œIf you and your dad don’t have a decent relationship, that is not my fault. If you have done something that has caused him not to trust you, then you did it and not me. Don’t try to blame your problems on me. I am totally not the source of your problems, Mike. You are.”
    With that, she hangs up. I decide I’m going to go surfing before I rip the phone out of the wall.
    I change into my black-and-green swim trunks, but I leave the tank top on. I keep my board in a storage closet under the steps. After looking for my sandals for several minutes, I remember I slipped them off outside the door. I fix a sandwich, throw it, some water, and a towel into my backpack, grab my board, and then walk the block and a half from my house to the public beach. The tide is on its way in, so the waves are picking up nicely. Iron Steamer Pier is not the greatest surfing in the world, but it’s fun when you need to kill some time or blow off steam. There are the remains of an old steam ship about a hundred yards off shore. Sometimes when the tide islow, you can see the very top of the wreck out in the water. You can’t surf there at low tide or you could seriously mess up your board. There used to be an old fishing pier, too, but it blew down in a storm a long time ago; my dad tells me stories all the time about fishing off the end of the pier and getting his line caught in the wreck.
    I spike my board in the sand, throw my towel out flat, and drop my pack on it. The tourists are already out in force, slathering themselves in sunscreen and flattening out like lizards trying to soak up as much sun as possible.
    It’s times like this I wish October wasn’t so far away, so I could have my license and drive farther up the island to a better spot for waves. But it will get here soon enough. And I’m not ready to get through my summer that fast.
    I tug off my shirt and then pull my board out of the sand and head into the water. The waves have a pretty good surge to them. When I’m about waist deep, I float my board and flop on top of it. I paddle out about thirty feet, pushing the water with my hands. The ocean is warm, but a little breeze is raising goose bumps on my back, and I’m thinking my wet suit might have been a good plan.
    I raise up on my elbows and watch a few swells move under me. I can feel the draw of the water pulling urgently out toward the ocean. It signals a rush of adrenaline in me: a big wave. I start pushing hard with my arms as the water crests beneath me.