“Thanks.”
Cody and I head downstairs together.
His parents are in the kitchen, making coffee.
I scrounge for my manners. “Thanks very much for letting me stay here,” I say. “It’s a beautiful place.”
“You’re welcome,” Heather replies.
“Drive safely,” Frank says stiffly.
Cody follows me outside. I grab my wetsuit off the deck and throw it on top of my stuff. It hasn’t completely dried, so it will get the rest of my gear damp, but I don’t really care about practicalities right now.
I throw my bag onto the front seat of the car and turn to face Cody.
This is the moment I’ve been dreading. How do I say goodbye to Cody?
“I guess this is it,” I manage.
He hesitates. I know he’s got words brewing, so I wait, holding the top of the car door.
“I’m glad we got to hang out this summer,” he says finally.
My hand tightens, so I feel the metal edge dig into my palm. “Thanks for teaching me the guitar.”
“Thanks for teaching me to surf.”
The words seem too formal between us. Like we’re speaking some foreign language neither of us is fluent in.
Cody swallows. “I’ll see you around.”
“Yeah.” I hold out my hand for a fist bump. He bumps it back, his knuckles rubbing against mine. Although he’s got those slender long pianist hands compared to my larger ones, somehow his knuckles slot perfectly into the groove of my knuckles. Our hands linger for a few moments longer than a standard fist bump.
I pull my hand back and clear my throat. “See you around.”
Chapter12
The last few weeks of summer suck ass. I’m back in the city with the timer ticking down to the start of school like it’s a bomb.
Mum reclaims her car, so I’m stuck begging rides off people or donating my scarce cash to Uber and Lyft drivers.
I get a few rides to go surfing, but not all the way out to Orakahau.
I think of Cody still at the beach. Surfing in the morning. Practicing the piano in the afternoon. I consider messaging him but decide maybe it’s a good thing to let some distance grow between us.
It’s like we were in this bubble out on the beach where Cody and I could just be two guys hanging out, getting to know each other, starting to like each other. Then Frank and Heather turned up, and it was like a bucket of cold vomit was poured over everything.
And the vomit continues.
When I got home, Mum had asked me questions about my holiday, her lips pressed thin. It makes me wonder what memories she has of the beach. She must have been happy with Frank at some stage, before everything went to crap between them.
It appears wonderful memories are the last thing on her mind right now though. Because she’s on the warpath about Kate’s plans to move home.
Apparently Kate’s initial plan was for her and Chris to stay with Frank and Heather until after the baby is born, giving them some time to save towards a deposit for a house. But Mum is pissed at the idea of Kate staying with Frank instead of with us.
Even I can see it’s more logical for Kate and Chris to stay with Frank and Heather, because there’s more room at their place. But I don’t point out the logic, because Mum doesn’t just have a shoot the messenger mentality right now. She’s in a shoot, quarter, and bury the messenger in a shallow, unmarked grave kind of mood.
When I step into the kitchen one morning, she’s on the phone to Kate. And you don’t have to be a top-level detective to work out from the way Mum’s stalking around the kitchen and slamming cupboards that the conversation is not going well.