Hot-Blooded (14 page)

She had a ton of things to do to prepare for the big Pāhoehoe launch in a few weeks. With ledgers and notebooks scattered around her on the plain tan cushions, she pored over documents, made notes, double-checked numbers. After a couple hours, she stood to stretch and noticed a splat of ice cream she must’ve dropped. The splotch of white with little black dots formed the shape of a butterfly.

Keahilani glanced beyond the dribble to Mahina’s journal staring at her. “Damn it, Mahina.” She shook her head. “When are you going to leave me alone? I don’t want to read any more. Dad was a dickweed. I’m glad he’s dead.” She shouldn’t have said that. She wasn’t even sure she meant it. Her in-denial heart didn’t want to believe he was unworthy of the pedestal she’d put him on all her life, but her head had assimilated plenty of evidence to prove otherwise.

She picked up the book and rubbed the worn cover. Business could wait a little longer. She was almost caught up anyway. “Fine.” Hands trembling, she inhaled a deep breath and opened to where she’d left off.

December 1

I haven’t seen Justin around the beach. I suppose he got what he wanted from me. After a day of crying and avoiding my parents, I decided enough is enough.

Stupid boy.

Stupid me for falling for him.

But it’s like
Makuahine
says: You can’t measure your own value using other people’s yardsticks because no two sticks are ever the same. If I was nothing more than an easy lay to Justin, that’s his problem, not mine. I’m worth more than his opinion of me. I’m
‘ōiwi
. I’m proud.

Still, the spot for him inside me is sore. I thought I was special to him. I’ve replayed our night together more times than I can count, and his actions told me he cared. He might not have said it with words, but he said it through the connection we shared. I wish I could’ve read his thoughts after we did it. I want so much to believe it
did
mean something.

Dwelling on it only makes me sadder.

I didn’t surf today, but Palani came home from the beach with a black eye and a sprained wrist. He said some
haoles
kicked sand at him and told him and his friends to get out—they weren’t welcome there. Palani has a short temper. I’m sure he gave them a piece of his mind, and that’s probably what started the fight.

This wasn’t the first fight over our waters, though. These little battles are becoming more frequent, and in some cases, more violent. It makes me angry that they come to
our
beaches and act as if they have some kind of authority. We were here first, not them. We respect and honor the ocean. We always bow to the wave to give it thanks. Surfing is
our
tradition.

They’re trying to steal our ocean, our sand, our history from us. It’s not fair. It’s not right.

December 10

Big waves hit the North Shore today, and Justin made his reappearance. When I saw him, I got all gushy inside, but I pretended not to notice him. I told myself to leave him be, but like the other spectators on the beach, I couldn’t look away as he paddled fearlessly out to a twenty-five-footer.

I’ve never seen a wave so tall or so scary. Blood beat against the drums in my ears, and I held my breath when he slipped into the
tube
. The whole time he was in, I prayed he wouldn’t be hurt too badly. If you surf the pipe, you’re
going
to get hurt. It’s just a matter of how bad. Oahu’s waves have claimed plenty of souls, and they don’t discriminate.

Justin not only survived the ride, but he owned it. And the best part? He bowed to the wave. He bowed! I couldn’t have been prouder of him in that moment.

The haoles ran out to welcome him with pats on the back. Even a few
Kanaka Maoli
surfers congratulated him. As he stormed triumphantly up the sand, surfboard under his arm, he met my eyes and smiled. I forgot how to be mad at him and ran over. His huge grin and the kiss he planted on me were the only apologies I needed.

I couldn’t believe how we went from no communication to a full-blown lip lock in front of a crowd. It was like I was his girl, and he wanted everyone to know it.

“That was incredible!” I told him. The haoles agreed.

He laughed, and then he told everyone about how he jumped on the wave’s back, zigzagged as it curled around him, and how it felt like flying. I understood all of this, though I’ve never surfed one that big. But I let my imagination run wild and lived through him while he shared the story. In my mind, I stood beside him on his board as the spray hit our faces and the wind whipped our hair.

Justin has the biggest soul I’ve ever met. I don’t know any other way to describe him. He’s just
full
and
deep
, with such an overwhelming presence that he’s larger than life. One day, he’ll
be
somebody. He’s already somebody to me, but the rest of the surfing world will discover his talent soon enough.

As the excitement died down and the surfers grabbed their boards for another go, Justin took my hand, looked me in the face, and said he was glad I was there.

I melted faster than an ice cube in the Oahu sun.

And then all hell broke loose.

Out of nowhere, Palani and his friends stomped toward us. His face turned red, and he balled his fists. “Get the fuck away from my sister, haole!”

Punches flew, curses were thrown, blood spilled. I caught only glimpses, grunts, and shuffling. I covered my head with my arms, ashamed of my brother and afraid for Justin. I screamed at Palani to stop, but he wouldn’t. He kept swearing and hitting. After what seemed like an eternity-long brawl that ended with bloodied noses and lots of bruises on both sides, he tore me away from Justin by the hair, huffing and fuming between insults.

Palani said we were going home and he was going to tell
Makuahine
and
Makuakane
everything. I begged him not to, but he was so blinded by his hatred for the haoles, there was no reasoning with him.

Sure enough, when we got home, I was punished. I yelled at Makuakane, which only made it worse. Like a fool, I told him I love Justin. Now I’m not allowed to go to the beach anymore until surfing season is over.

My parents and brother might think they can keep me away from Justin, but they won’t. If I have to sneak out at night, I’ll do it. He earned my respect in
ka po‘ina nalu
today, and until he proves otherwise, I’ll do whatever it takes to be with him. Makuahine and Makuakane can go to hell.

December 17

I left school excited about the start of the holidays—only because I don’t care much for school. I skipped out the door after the bell rang and hopped down the steps to the sidewalk. Someone called my name from behind a big palm tree flapping its fronds high in the air. The second I heard the voice, I knew it was Justin.

It’s been a week since the fight on the beach. His bruises have faded some, but they’re still obvious. My chest ached when I remembered Palani did that. I apologized for my brother’s behavior, but Justin blew it off.

He made small talk as he walked with me, shooting looks over his shoulder every twenty feet or so. When we got to the corner, I led him down a side street so we could talk. He seemed upset about something. Said he missed me and was sorry about leaving me alone on the beach after we did the deed. He thought I would cling to him and try to smother him like his last girlfriend did (I wonder how many he’s had), but when he saw me on the beach after he rode the
barrel
, he couldn’t resist my smile. That got my stomach fluttering. I forgave him and promised not to cling. Makuahine taught me never to impose on others, and I certainly wouldn’t do that to Justin. I like him too much.

We kissed, and I lost my mind all over again. This boy does things to me. He sets my mind jogging in too many directions, he makes my body thrum every time he comes around, and his smile touches my soul.

I told him about being grounded for seeing him. He understood. We agreed to meet at the beach tomorrow night. He has something important to tell me. I’ll have to sneak out, but I’m willing to risk pretty much anything to see him.

December 18

Makuahine and Makuakane stayed up late. I waited for hours to slip out of the house. By the time I got to the beach, it was nearly two o’clock. Justin swept me into his arms and kissed me hard.

When I caught my breath, he picked up a handful of my hair and smoothed it between his fingers. He asked what Mahina means.

I told him I was named after the moon.

He flashed his big smile and turned his head to the sky. The sliver of light above us was so thin, it looked like an eyelash. He said the new moon was coming in another day or two and that it was a sign of new beginnings. When I asked what he meant, he said he was leaving for Maui soon.

He slipped his arms around my waist and tugged me close. He was hard down there. My body reacted with a wave of heat. It spread from my stomach through my limbs to my hands and feet.

He asked me to come to Maui with him.

My jaw dropped. My head spun. My vision blurred.

I couldn’t even answer. The words got lost somewhere between my brain and my mouth.

He kept at it, breaking me down as he traced his fingers over my arm. Goosebumps chased each other across my skin. I said my parents would be furious if I ran away with him. He said not to tell them.

“Please come with me,” he said. “We’ll surf and make love on the beach every night.” His eyes flashed in the darkness, and the bottom dropped out of the clouds in my belly. Too many thoughts, explanations, excuses bombarded me at once. I couldn’t possibly run away with him.

But I asked when he was leaving anyway.

He said shortly after sunrise, and my guts twisted into a knot. Torn between my heart and my head, I wanted to cry. He couldn’t take my virginity and walk out of my life. He just got here. We still have stuff to do.

And even if I do take the risk and go with him, there’s no way I can leave that soon. I wouldn’t get a chance to say goodbye to my family. My ‘ohana might be a pain in the butt, but they’re also the only one I’ve got. They mean everything to me.

I told him I’d think about it, but my hopes sank. The decision was made before I even had a chance to debate it. ‘Ohana trumped handsome haole surfers.

He curled his body around mine in another kiss that shook me to my core. We paddled out to sea and made love on the backs of the waves. I’ve had a couple of weeks since our first time to recover and reflect on what I liked and how to make it better. Now I know what to expect and how to react. Tonight was beautiful, passionate, and devastating.

Right before I left, Justin told me he loved me. The empty hole in my chest deepened. I want him so badly. When we’re together, he fills me, and I feel complete. How can I deny these feelings? Don’t I deserve love like everyone else?

I’m only sixteen, and this blond surfer wants me. The fact that he’s white makes it all the more forbidden and alluring. My parents would never accept a haole into the family—especially with the tensions on the beach lately—but you can’t choose who you fall in love with, and I love Justin Jacobs.

Imagine traveling from island to island with him, searching for the perfect wave. The fun we’d have.

The temptation might break me.

Caught between two cultures, I don’t know what to do. I have four hours to make up my mind.

December 19

My life is over. Justin’s gone. I want to die.

I snuck back to the beach at 8:00 this morning with nothing but a week’s worth of clothes and a few reminders of home stuffed in the bag slung over my shoulder. He never showed up. No one saw him. I was left standing alone, looking like a fool.

I want to die.

After reading the last entry in the book, Keahilani slammed it shut. “Asshole!” she yelled at the journal. A drop of water splattered on the cover.

Tears? Really? She didn’t cry. Ever.

Another droplet fell, and another and another. Soon, her shoulders lurched as she struggled to breathe. She clutched the diary to her chest, wiped her face, but the tears flowed in full spate.

Staring through blurry eyes at the butterfly-shaped blob on the coffee table, she muttered, “Why did you let him treat you like shit, Mahina? You’re so much better and stronger than that.” She sniffled. Blew her nose. Still, she couldn’t stop crying.

Keahilani decided then and there she’d never let any man rule her the way her father had ruled Mahina. Rocking on the couch, she whispered over and over, “Never … never … never …” until exhaustion claimed her. She fell into a restless sleep, cradling one of the few remains of her beloved mother, as if her own life depended on it.

Chapter Thirteen

Sunday, September 28

Blake sat at a restaurant across the street from Mahina Surf and Dive and absently picked at his burger and fries. Wearing dark glasses with his hair balled and stuffed under a beanie, he melted into the crowd of tourists swarming the outdoor dining deck.