Prologue
Andi McCurdy tried to brush her auburn hair away from her
face in disgust. Short hair was supposed to be a convenience, yet the small,
theoretically chic pieces that framed her face were proving anything but today.
The tears she had shed earlier had made the unruly mess stick to her cheeks
that no amount of hair spray and bobby pins were able to tame.
Today should have been a typical
Saturday in sunny San Diego. Andi would check the weather conditions over her
usual two cups of coffee before making the short walk to Mission Beach, her
surfboard and English bulldog, Calzone, always in tow. On this particular
Saturday, however, there would be no familiar trip to the beach, no embracing
the welcoming solitude of the Pacific, no relaxing salt water cascading over
her body as she and her board sought the perfect wave. There would be nothing
normal about today because, unbeknownst to Andi, her world had already began
crashing down.
It was only 8 am but the sun was
already beating down with an intense force, accompanied by a warm, salt water
infused breeze that pushed through the loft’s open windows. The shrill ring of
a nearby iPhone shook Andi from her slumber and with it, any plans for the day
were brought to a screeching halt. She grabbed her pillow and rolled towards
the nightstand, prepared to hit the ignore button and return to dreamland, if
only temporarily. Anyone calling at this time must have known the coffee pot
had yet to turn on, thus rendering her completely useless. Andi picked up the phone,
still plagued by sleep and disillusionment, took a few long seconds to process
the photo of her dad on the display screen and finally gained the temporary
jolt she so desperately needed to cope with the early wake up call.
“Hey, Dad.
How are you?” Andi shouted into the receiver. She bought her father his first
cell phone almost a year ago, an ample amount of time for most to learn the
basic operations of the new smart phones that dominated the technology scene,
yet Jake McCurdy was still incapable of grasping the mechanics. Rather than try
and teach him for the countless time, she accepted the fact that her father was
one of the few remaining old fashioned people and simply shouted so she could
be heard over the one thousand two hundred and seventy seven miles that
separated them.
“Hey, Andi,”
were the short, hasty words that greeted her. A deep sigh travelled from her
father’s mouth through the receiver and into her ear, instantly alerting her
that something was wrong in his small corner of the world.
“God, kiddo.
I wish there was some easier way to tell you this.” She could picture him
running his hand over the slight beard he had kept for as long as she could
remember, his obvious tell that something was troubling him.
“Dad? What’s
wrong?” A wave of dread swept over Andi,
but she was determined to keep her voice neutral, if only to show her father
she was strong enough to hear whatever he had to say.
“It’s
Austin. He, uh, he fell asleep on his was home this morning. His car slammed
into that split tree over on Plymouth Road. Andi, Austin’s de—“. Jake choked on
the words, accompanied by a slight thud that could have been him placing the
phone on the table. Drawing on an unknown strength, her father put the phone
back to his ear and spoke the two words she could never have imagined hearing.
“Austin’s
gone.”
Andi grabbed
the pillow and pressed it against her face, instantaneously feeling the fabric
dampen.
“Sweetheart,
I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s ok,
Dad,” she whispered, both knowing it was a lie. “When’s the --?” She quickly
cleared her throat before continuing. “When’s the funeral?”
“It’s Monday
at eleven. Preston and Layla are doing the visitation at nine.”
“Ok. I’ll
check online and see if any flights are leaving today. I might have to book one
for tomorrow though, especially with Calzone.”
Her voice
cracked and her knuckles were turning white from the grip she maintained on the
pillow. “Either way, I’ll call you later and let you know. Talk to you later,
Dad.”
“Bye, Andi.
I love you.”
“Love you,
too,” Andi croaked before disconnecting the call and leaning back on her bed,
finally allowing the contained sobs to escape freely from her body.
Several hours later, Andi stood
overran empty suitcase, firmly clutching a bottle of Jose Cuervo that had yet
to meet her lops. She absentmindedly thumbed the top, an onslaught of emotions
beginning to jumble together in her mind. The bottle’s top easily gave way,
prompting her to remember the forgotten tequila and take a long drink, followed
in rapid succession by another. The warm liquid burned down her throat as tears
continued to sting her eyes. The dangerous combination of tequila and tears
rapidly altered her mood from spent to furious. Furious at Austin for leaving
so unexpectedly, at her father for calling her and all the history they had
between them, at any person that dared to be happy. Mostly, however, she was
furious at herself. She had taken Austin and his friendship for granted and now
he was gone. Andi raced over to the closet and began tearing clothes from the
hangers.
“Stupid!
Fucking! Shit!” Each pronounced curse was accompanied by multiple garments
flying toward the suitcase. This couldn’t be right. It had to be some cruel
joke designed to get her to come home. She reached into the pocket of her faded
Levi’s, fishing out her cell and preparing to call her father. As the lock
screen faded away, an uneasy feeling settled in the pit of Andi’s stomach. Her
father would never do something so malicious. Yet, with the truth of Jake’s
words, she was forced to deal with reality and accept the fact that Austin was
truly gone. And there was the exact problem. A reality in which Austin West
wasn’t a part of couldn’t be a reality for Andi. He was her best friend, the
one who taught her how to throw a right hook, who cheered the loudest for her
at every track competition, who stayed with her all night waiting for her
father to return home from his nightly trips to the Retreat, reeking of
cigarette smoke and alcohol. Austin was one half of Andi’s rock and now he was
gone. She dug a pair of tennis shoes out from the bottom of her cluttered
closet and haphazardly threw them towards the growing pile. One of the shoes
sailed over the suitcase and made contact with a small silver picture frame
atop the nightstand. The frame toppled to the floor, the sound of breaking
glass slightly relieving some of Andi’s anger. Calzone heard the commotion from
the living room and came through the door to investigate. She rushed to the
mess, shooing the dog as she picked up the glass fragments and threw them in
the trash. Andi picked out the photograph from the frame, feeling the paper
bend easily in her hand. Gingerly, she brushed her thumb over the image of her
and Austin, along with the other half of her rock, Blake Griffin at their high
school graduation six years ago. The smiling, care-free teenagers mocked Andi
in her misery. Their faces contained an untamed look of adventure and each held
the knowledge that the world was waiting for them just beyond the camera’s
flash.
Taking a final glance at the photo,
Andi knew exactly what she had to do, even though the pieces of her newly
broken heart were telling her it would be perfectly acceptable to hide away in
her apartment until everything returned to normal. However, this was the new
normal. Life would never return to how it was six years ago. Andi messed that
up when she left Southbend the day after graduation and didn’t look back.
Decision made, Andi zipped the black
Samsonite closed and headed for the door. The surfboard was propped in its
usual spot by the front door, begging for its Saturday trip to the beach,
telling her it was too clean without the familiar saltwater and sand clinging
to its paint. She would have gladly welcomed the serenity of the Pacific, yet
those she had left years ago needed her and she couldn’t ignore their cries any
longer. Andi rolled her suitcase into the hall, trailed closely by Calzone,
flicked the light switch, submerging the apartment in complete darkness, and
firmly closed the door. The time had come to face her past and this time there
was simply no running away. Andi McCurdy was finally going home.
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