Death Wish (The Ceruleans: Book 1) by Megan Tayte Page B

had a good understanding of what had attracted Sienna
to the pastime – and even the crowd that came with it; it hadn’t escaped my
notice that some of the surfer guys were pretty fine. But I was no closer to an
understanding of how she had let the sea claim her. I thought about it often
while riding a wave, and especially when I lost my balance and entered the
water, and still it felt wrong to me. It seemed, then, that the next step would
be to find this bloke she’d been seeing. And for that, I needed an in with the
surfing crowd.
    I pondered the problem for days; even mentioned to Luke it
might be fun to join them out there, but that idea was met with such an
appalled look I didn’t have the guts to push any further. Then, late one Monday
night, Cara inadvertently became my saviour with a text:
    P.A.R.T.Y.! This Friday night, Surfer Si’s place. Say
you’ll come?
    My first thought was, Hell no . Party? That was
Sienna’s scene, not mine. But I quickly realised this was the opportunity I
needed – Si, I knew, was a family friend of Cara’s latest squeeze (‘Lovely
Kyle’) and one of the surfer crowd. Si was the only one who lived in Twycombe;
hence his house – right on the beach, so Cara had told me – was the gang’s
designated party pad. It was there that Sienna had spent her last evening, and
it was there, I decided firmly, I would spend this Friday night. I texted back:
    Sounds good, count me in.
    Then I had a moment’s panic as I mentally surveyed the
contents of my wardrobe. What to wear to a house party full of surfer types?
    Dress code? I texted.
    Sexy , was the quick reply.
    Well, that ruled out every outfit I had, I thought. Cara was
effortlessly sexy; would look amazing in a bin liner. I was more of a jeans and
casual top type – would that cut it? Suddenly, I was all sweaty at the thought
of this party, and my fingers hovered over the keys of the phone, ready to
type, Oops, forgot I’ve got plans that night , but she beat me to it.
    I’ll come round before and help you get ready. Little
tipple, music up loud, do your hair…
    I could just picture Cara’s eyes sparkling as she
contemplated the makeover she’d been coaxing me towards these past weeks. Oh
hell. But there was nothing for it.
    Great, you know where to find me, I texted. See
you then.

12: LOBSTERS, EH?
     
    After Tuesday’s lesson, Luke announced he had to work both
the day and evening shifts at the pub on Friday, so couldn’t make our lesson
then. But to make up he had the whole day off work on Thursday, and he offered
to take me out for lunch. Was it my imagination, or were his perpetually
flushed cheeks a shade darker as he spoke?
    The impromptu speech took me aback – while I enjoyed the
time I spent with Luke, we’d never strayed beyond the daily beach meetups, and
I wasn’t sure what to make of this invitation.
    As if reading my mind, he added, ‘Just, you know, as
friends. I just thought you’re stuck here most of the time with walking
Chester, and you’ve done so well with lessons, a day off couldn’t hurt. And you
could swap your days with Bert.’
    I could feel my own cheeks colouring to match his own; what
a pair. Keen to put him out of his misery and draw a line under this awkward
moment, I said quickly, ‘Great, yeah, that’d be good.’
    Thursday dawned glorious with a promise from the BBC
weatherman that it would be the hottest day of the year so far. I dithered for
much too long in front of my wardrobe wondering what to wear, which was
entirely pointless as I eventually settled for the old-reliable
vest-top-and-jeans combo. I deliberated over footwear; usually I wore tatty
trainers, but thinking of the heat, I opted for sandals instead. I’d got into
the habit of tying my long hair back for walks with Chester and surfing
lessons, but today I decided to leave it swinging free down my back. After a
moment’s thought, I added a touch of mascara to my lashes; wouldn’t hurt to
look my best.
    Surveying my