Dealing With Trouble

CHAPTER 13 ?

Saturdays in the Applegate household begin with some sort of home-cooked breakfast and end with all of us at the beach. Lechuza Beach, located in Malibu, is a combination of white, soft sand and turquoise waters—my personal paradise.

I'm sitting on a flowery towel, stomach to the fabric, sunglasses on, doing some homework. Except for Olly, who is snoring on the towel next to me, the majority of the family is spread out in the ocean. Every now and then, I notice dried drool on his chin. I raise my head slightly, reaching over to remove my sandals so I can feel the grains between my toes. I scan the beach for surfers and kids in the distance, but it's surprisingly quiet.

Taky and Dane are standing in the distance, their surfboards tucked under their arms. They ride a short wave toward the ocean. I know nothing about surfing and doubt I'd be able to keep my balance if I tried, but watching them hit the water is soothing. I concentrate on how their arms move as they paddle out past the break, fighting the current.

This is the first time I've felt myself relax since moving here. I'm still checking my phone for messages from Dad, but knowing that my training will begin today gives me a sliver of courage.

Alongside me, Olly snores. I never knew what it was like to have brothers because I grew up without them, but having the twins around—even if they can be annoying at times—has shown me how lonely I was before.

It feels like I'm in paradise as the sun shines down on me, turning my warm, beige skin a golden brown. Jamie needs to see how incredible this is. I call him, but he cancels and immediately sends me a message saying he's busy. Instead, I send a picture and put my phone away.

"Who brings homework to the beach?" Olly wonders.

When I turn around, I see that he is awake and busy applying sunscreen to his chest. When he shakes the bottle again, a blob flies out and lands on my arm. When my phone rings with a FaceTime from Jamie, I wipe it off and prepare to tell him to go back to sleep.

"Hey," I call out. "I thought you said you were preoccupied." He looks as good as ever in his new, fitted jacket, but it's difficult to tell where he is. I know he's inside because there's just a plain white wall behind him, but it doesn't look familiar. "I was, but I'm taking a break," he says. “Are you still on the beach?"

"Yep." I move the camera to show him the ocean and the white sand beach. "Doesn't it look fantastic?"

His grin is easy as he says, "Not as amazing as you. What are you doing there? I thought I saw a hairy leg in the photo—wasn't it yours?"

"Certainly not. That would be Olly's." I pan the camera to Olly as he fiddles with his phone. He looks at me through his Raybans, realizes he's on camera, and flexes his muscles like a bodybuilder. "This nerd's name is Olly, and over there are my mom, Taky, and Dane," I laugh. Turn the camera to face the ocean once more. "What are you doing?"

"My relatives! They were having trouble putting together their new wardrobe, so I offered to assist. I should probably return before one of them breaks their back. Jelly Bean, I adore you."

"Love you, String Bean," I say as I hang up the phone.

Dane appears just as I reach for the sunscreen. He takes a seat next to me, shaking his head, causing water droplets to fly everywhere. I lightly push his shoulder while laughing.

"You just missed the cheesiest FaceTime ever," Olly says, "which is saying a lot considering what I had to put up with last year with you and Caitlyn."

Dane laughs, but the mention of Caitlyn irritates him. "He's just envious that no one wants to Face Time him anymore. He only ever looks at himself in the corner of the screen."

"Hey," Olly says. "I can't help it if I'm handsome."

"Yeah, the girls are lining up,"Dane says.

"They are," Olly insists. "I'm just not interested in them."

"Too busy pining after Jane?"

My eyebrows fly up. My suspicions were correct. "You like Jane?"

Olly glares at Dane before thumping him on the arm. The two become embroiled in a fistfight, so I roll my eyes and look out at the sea, where Mom and Layla are splashing around in the ocean like kids. Mom borrowed the turquoise swimsuit from Layla, so it's a little-a lot-big around the bust area, but it looks good on her-so does the rare but genuine smile.

The rest of the afternoon is spent playing beach volleyball-something I'm apparently awful atbut spending Time together as a family is just what we've needed. Mom is laughing in a way I've never seen before, and for the tiniest moment, it's like Dad doesn't exist

Standing in the doorway, ignoring the stench of sweat and leather, I take it all in. It looks different in the dayTime, and for the first Time, I notice the small mural of golden wings on the wall. Beneath it, in a delicate scrawl that catches the light, reads City of Angels.

I'm twenty minutes early, so I take a seat on the bench and wait for Jeremiah to appear. Of the ten or so gym-goers, only three of them are girls. The rest are men, varying in age from about fifteen to twenty. At the end of the room, pounding on one of the punching bags, is the man who'd given me the flyer. His salt and pepper hair clings to his forehead in curls, and his undershirt is soaked through. I watch him for a moment, enthralled by the power he packs behind his punches.

"Hey, you new here?

I turn around. The boy before me is tall and handsome, with an Afro taper fade and the tiniest dimple in his chin. Everybody in L.A is far too good-looking.

"I'm here for the White Collar boot camp," I say.

His eyebrows fly up. "The old man actually got people to sign up to that? Damn. Guess this means we'll be seeing a lot more of each other." He wiggles his eyebrows. "Lucky me."

At the far end of the gym, Jeremiah walks out of a black door and crosses the room toward us. "Don't you have somewhere to be, Wiley?"

Wiley puts both hands up and grins. "Hey, I'm just being polite. I like to make the newbies feel welcome."

"Yeah?" Jeremiah nods in the direction of one of the gym-goers. "Where was Tyrell's welcome yesterday?" Wiley walks away laughing at the same Time Jeremiah turns to me. "You're early."

"Sorry," I say, but I'm not. Being early is a million Times better than being late.

Jeremiah makes me wait in his office until everyone else has left. The dark walls are covered in medals and various photos. There is one of little Jeremiah holding up a shiny trophy, one of him and a man I presume to be his dad at a competition, one of him and his dad on a fishing trip; I'm sensing a theme and can't help but wonder where his mother is.

In the far corner is an old oak desk covered in papers and books. Next to it is a single bed, the blue sheets tucked smoothly between the mattress and box springs like it hasn't been slept in. To the left, a door leads into a small en suite. I leave my stuff in the corner and pull back my hair.

The gym is filled with hushed voices. Jeremiah and Flyer Guy are arguing across the room. Jeremiah is standing with his back to me, so I can't see his face, but he appears tense.

"You should have checked with me first," Flyer Guy says. "This boot camp is supposed to be run by me, not you. All of my one-on-one appointments are already booked. I simply do not have the time to train her."

"Which is why I'm doing it in the evening," Jeremiah explains.

"You are not qualified," he says, poking him in the chest.

"Would you like to unwind, Jenson? It's easy money. After a few lessons, she'll be bored, and we'll have some extra cash to buy some equipment. Win, win, win."

Jenson's jaw clenches and clenches in frustration. "You realize you're more trouble than you're worth?"

Jeremiah tilts his head slightly, revealing a grin on his face. "That's not the first time I've heard something like that."

I walk toward them, shoulders back, determined to prove him wrong. Jenson is the first to notice me and then excuses himself. Jeremiah motions for me to go to the bench with him. He extends his hand, and for a brief moment, I believe he wants me to take it.

"Right up front," he says.