Page 7 of Hula Girl

“Listen, I know you’re full of all these …feelingsabout me not having been around. But that time before, I couldn’t have been of any use to a young kid. I had a career to start. I needed to dedicate myself to becoming something. And before you give me lip about the fact that I work for my father’s firm, understand that there is tradition in that. It’s important to maintain a line of succession when your family has built something of value.”

“I don’t want to live with you,” I said.

He considered me for a moment, obviously less than impressed with the stubborn look on my face. “Well, it’s not really up to you, is it?”

“My mom won’t let me live with you.”

“This is for your own good. You may not realize that right now. But by coming to live with me, you’ll get the best of everything. The best schools, the best—”

“I won’t leave my mom,” I insisted.

He sighed, clearly out of patience. Arguing with a child, even his own, was a waste of his time. “Do you really want me to go through a protracted custody battle with your mother? Do you understand the toll that would take on her financially? It could ruin that little music school she has.”

“You’d do that?” I asked, mouth agape.

“It’s time, Son. It’s time that I impose some discipline in your life. You need the kind of order and structure that I had at your age. It changed everything for me. Whereas once I was wild, I soon had a sense of direction. It was invaluable because it led me to become the man I am today.”

“The kind of man who knocks up a random girl and leaves her on her own with a baby, you mean?” I muttered.

His hand flew at me before I could flinch. The smack across my mouth stung, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t going to let him think I believed his bullshit.

“That’s the kind of attitude we’ll rid you of,” he said. “Now, you’ll go back to Maui, but only long enough for you to collect your things so you can return here.”

“I won’t.”

He leaned down to make eye contact with me. “Understand one thing, young man.Youwill destroy your mother’s life by refusing this.”

I looked up at him, my eyes shining against my will.

“Tears are for the weak. Remember that.” He turned then to move back into the house.

Before he could disappear inside, I took the completed airplane and dropped it to the ground. The crunch of it under my foot was incredibly satisfying. But the fury on his face as he whipped back around to see what I had done was even better.

I wanted him to know that I’d never stop resisting him, that he’d nevertameme.

And yet, I followed his plan of moving to LA, but only so that my mother wouldn’t be crushed by legal bills. I went to a private boys’ school and spent the first six months defying every authority around me. After realizing I was the only one suffering because of this attitude, though, I gave up and fell in line.

I made friends with the popular kids. I got into playing baseball, which my father loved because he had played in school, too. I studied, finding that a little went a long way as I was exceptional at picking up and retaining information if I put even minimal effort into it. By becoming more like the son my father wanted me to be, I earned the freedom to go to Maui for the summer. Soon, my “good behavior” meant I spent every single school holiday with my mom. I learned to straddle the two worlds, but the whole time I was just biding my time until I could make my own decisions.

Or so I thought. When I was almost sixteen, something shifted. I actually started to crave my father’s approval. I think it started when he took me to the office for the first time. He worked long hours, which I’d always considered a blessing since it meant we didn’t have to spend all that much time together. But the day he had me sit in his big leather wingback chair, I felt a sense of wonder at the grand space and furniture. He spread legal texts in front of me, having me read case law and quizzing me. To the astonishment of both of us, I answered every question correctly. It was then that he declared I had a photographic memory. He was so delighted with this that it made me feel … special. I felt special to him for the first time in my life. When he started talking about me one day joining the firm to carry on the family practice, I was suddenly eager to please him. Another thing that happened for the first time in my life.

After that, I still went home to my mom whenever I could, but I also stepped up my studies. I had a mission. I wanted to burn through high school and college to get to law school. I wanted to be a part of my father’s plan.

I got through all that schooling and took the bar. I worked at that stuffy law firm for almost four years before I snapped, walking away from it all and moving home to Maui. My mom’s boyfriend lets me stay in this place. It’s not much more than a shack, but it’s on the beach and gives me a roof over my head in between bouts of surfing.

That was a year ago.

I’ve been content during this time. Just living in the moment. Just living for me. Just trying to get back to who I used to be … before I bought into my father’s expectations.

But now I’ve got the trip to L.A. looming over my head.

There’s only one thing that will take my mind off this sense of dread. I haul myself to my feet, stretch the kinks out of my body, and reach for coconut water. It’s time to catch some waves, time to think about nothing but the sweet ride of the water.

4

Ava

I’m awake before sunrise. It’s still relatively cool, so I put on my running gear and hope that the exercise will shake the restlessness I haven’t been able to dispel since I got here.

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