Page 19 of As the Rain Falls (Sainte Madeleine #1)

SEGURA A ONDA

Beckett

Point-Mort is, without any ounce of doubt, the worst beach to surf in. The ocean isn’t kind to beginners, especially after dark, but even the most seasoned surfer will struggle here. The waves become absolutely feral once the high tides come in.

Antony and I have been coming here long enough to know our way around, which is our only saving grace. It’s a matter of life or death; we’d drown if we didn’t.

His family settled in Le Port for good after his dad’s heart started giving out, and though I don’t remember the story well enough, I’m sure it’s something about him not handling the stress of having such a high demand job very well.

The doctors forced him into early retirement from diplomacy, and the years that followed were difficult.

But while I might not remember our beginnings clearly, I do remember how losing the job nearly cost the Silvas everything they had.

The disease hadn’t been planned; it took them a long time to figure things out.

They seem to be doing a lot better now, and Tony’s mother deserves all the credit for it.

She’s the real breadwinner of the family.

Antony’s twin younger sisters, Julia and Carol, play little league every Saturday morning just like we used to do. He is my closest friend to date, and maybe even the only person who gets me these days, especially when it comes to Lucia.

I’ve known him forever, and sure, people change all the time. But Tony never really has. His presence stays the same, and the thought of that is comforting to me.

“So now he wants me to get rid of the dog.”

“No way!” Antony slams his surfboard into the water, practically unable to contain his rage. I go quiet, awkwardly staring at the waves around us. “Pepé is Lucia’s dog. You can’t do that to her, Beckett!”

“I know, Tony.”

“She really loved him!”

“Yeah. I know that, too.”

The sky above us is almost entirely dark. A few stars are starting to pop at random places, twinkling softly and disappearing behind the clouds.

I somehow always start to feel somewhat melancholic when another day starts to come to an end, knowing that it’s another day without my sister.

Talking about Lucia with Antony is a tightrope. It’s no secret to me that he’s still deeply in love with her, and her death is the kind of wound that will never truly heal unless he allows it to.

Sadly enough, I’m starting to think he won’t ever get over the feeling. They were absolutely obsessed with each other from the very beginning.

I can’t even imagine how that it feel like to be completely enamored with someone who won’t ever come back to life. It’s not the same kind of grief I carry around.

Mine is rooted in family. I mourn her as the only sister I’ve ever had, and losing the bond hurts me badly, but Antony is torturing himself.

He thinks about the future; about what it could’ve been.

I can tell when he gets in his head, lost in thought and searching after all the secret moments they could have shared together.

All the love confessions he was never brave enough to say out loud are now wasted, and the unspoken feelings he never got around understanding fully won’t ever lead anywhere.

He loved Lucia, I don’t doubt that.Only, he truly accepted the magnitude of what he felt for her a little too late, and love is not meant to be a quiet thing, at least not when felt this badly. I think they were both too young to know any better.

Some people only learn through loss and pain; my friend is definitely one of them.

“I hate your dad,” he scoffs incredulously, his voice cutting through the sound of the waves around us. “Every time he comes around, you turn into some needy, ugly duckling, tracing after him, trying to get his approval.”

His words make me flinch, giving me whiplash.

“It’s not who you are, man,” he adds, softer this time.

Antony knows me a little too well. Actually, scratch that. Antony Silva is my brother who knows me better than anyone.

We’ve done everything together. From playing little league, to getting ugly haircuts in middle school. I remember fist-fighting our girlfriend’s boyfriends, because we always have each other’s back, no matter what. He’s seen me at my worst and still stuck around, never giving up on me entirely.

If Antony perceives that weakness in me, I can’t deny it because it must be true. The thought of needing approval from someone I don’t even admire pisses me off.

“It’s not like I’m about to let him walk all over me.” My jaw clenches, and I force myself to swallow hard and relax. “I’ll figure something out.”

I don’t care what my father thinks. I’m still keeping Pepé. He is Lucia’s dog, and he might as well become mine now that she’s gone.

“You need to find a solution,” Antony insists, his tone sharp. “You just have to.”

“I know, Tony.” I cross my arms over my chest, giving him a pleading look. “Can’t you keep him at your place for a while? Just until he goes away?”

“No way, dude. That’s a bad idea.” Antony shakes his head profusely. “The twins will get attached, and mom will kill me for it. I already got enough going on trying to graduate. She’s been on my ass about not pushing it this time around.”

“Well, shit!” I groan, throwing my hands up in frustration. “I don’t know what else to do, man. I’m just throwing ideas out there!”

“Why don’t you stand up to him?” Antony suggests, paddling to move forward. “Tell him to fuck off, or something.”

“Sure, Tony.” I smirk sarcastically. “That’ll work great, thanks.”

Thing is, Pepé is large. A big dog who needs a garden, or at least enough space to run and play. He needs to waste all the pent up energy bubbling inside of him.

Finding someone to take care of all that won’t be easy. I don’t have many people I can trust with available backyards, and a dog is such a huge responsibility.

Right then, the solution to my problem hits me.

“Cassandra Rivera.”

Her name slips out of me, sounding like the only logical answer. I stare at Antony dumbfounded, but the realization is so incredibly sharp.

Why didn’t I think about asking her sooner?

Her house is next to mine. She has a big backyard. I don’t think it would be too much trouble to keep him, at least not to her. I think she even likes dogs. What if she actually enjoyed Pepé‘s company, like Lucia did before her?

Antony freezes. “What did you just say?”

“I could ask her to do it,” I speak slowly, trying to get him on board. “I could ask Cassandra.”

His entire face scrunches up before he averts his gaze. I raise an eyebrow at him in question, and he shakes his head.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“What’s wrong with her?” I ask.

“I’ve got nothing against her.”

“Bullshit.” I cross my arms over my chest. “What’s wrong with Cassandra?”

“It’s just…” He rolls his eyes, shoulders tensing. “It’s her father I can’t stand, you already know that.”

I do. I know all about Antony’s vendetta against Principal Rivera.

They’ve never seen eye to eye, especially after he forced Tony to retake his third high school year.

Never mind his results were really low and repeating is probably for the best if he ever wants to go to college, which I doubt Tony even does.

But I still disagree.

Cassandra isn’t her father, nor is she deserving of being disliked for a decision she had no say in.

“I mean, I get it. Principal Rivera is an asshole.” I wet my lips. “But what does Cass have to do with him? They’re two very different people,” I emphasize. “She’s nothing like him.”

“Oh, yeah? What is she like?”

“She’s good,” I answer immediately. “Cassandra is a good person. Her family is the problem, but they don’t even treat her fairly either. Her brother drinks all the time, and with that father of hers, I mean…”

Nathaniel would be more caring if he felt differently about his sister. Principal Rivera would do something about his son, instead of letting him run rampant like he does now. I’d do anything just to drive Lucia around again like I used to do.

“You have a soft spot,” Antony recognizes, considering what I’ve just told him. “And I get it, but she’s too quiet, dude. Like, what’s up with her? She’s always just staring at people. It’s weird.”

I know exactly what he’s talking about.

When I was a third year student, Cassandra was this quiet, fragile-looking girl. I don’t think any of it was done purposefully, but she was the kind of kid who instantly rubbed people the wrong way without meaning to. Worst of all, she wanted so badly to be liked, especially by the other girls.

Cassandra sometimes came across as a little desperate. I remember watching her having lunch with Kayla Saint-Louis a few times, waiting for the right time to tell a particular joke. Her words always seemed uncertain, eyes darting nervously until her friend finally laughed.

The relief on her face is something I still can’t forget.A look I could only translate as I’m not as terrible as they think I am .

I watched Cassandra change that year. She shed the last bit of the young little girl she’d once been to figure out her place in the world, trying to exist as a real teenager. I could… relate to her. I’d felt the same, trying to fit in two years before her.

The other kids weren’t kind to her by any means. They didn’t make any room for her to celebrate her own achievements. They watched instead, wary of every move she made, like she wasn’t one of them. Like something about her was wrong and they could just tell.

The thought that Antony might have been one of the people who hated her makes my skin crawl. I can’t stand it. I don’t like to pick on someone without reason.

“What’s wrong with being quiet?” I ask. “I am quiet.”

‘Well, for starters,” he sneers, as if remembering something funny. The tiny gap between his front teeth shows, and it gives him a goofy look. “You heard she’s messing with Caleb?”

I freeze, immediately recognizing the name. “Caleb? As in Caleb Monteiro?”