Page 34 of Palm South University: Season 2

I WATCH AS THE WATER BREAKSaround my paddle, the sun warm on my face, a slight sweat breaking on the back of my neck. Each stride pushes me farther from shore and I sigh at the instant relief I feel from being in my safe space.

I picked up paddleboarding after my freshman Spring Break trip, but I never would have guessed it would become such a constant in my life. When we got back to campus, I started renting boards every weekend, paddling out on my own, fighting against the familiar aches in my muscles until they weren’t even affected anymore. After a few months, I bought my own board, and now I take solace in the time I have on the water, away from the world.

There’s something about being on the ocean — the wind blowing through your hair, the smell of salt in the air, the sound of the waves on the shore — that sets you free. It reminds you how small you are while making you feel invincible all at once. It’s fascinating.

I try not to take life too seriously, but my mind has been bogged down ever since the auction. It’s been a little over a week now, yet I still can’t shake the stampede of feelings that hit me out of nowhere that night. It was like with every flash of the camera from the reporter who ambushed me and Adam outside Ralph’s, a new thought assaulted me. What am I doing with Adam? Is it more serious for him than it is for me? What does it mean that I have paparazzi following me now? Is this the new normal or a one-time thing? Am I holding Adam back from getting the presidency? Is he holding me back from chasing my dreams with poker?

Though I paddle for hours, none of the answers come, and by the time my feet touch sand again, my mind is still wound as tight as the sun-kissed skin stretched over my shoulders. A loud whistle brings me back down to earth and I smile when I see Jess and Cassie sprawled out in two low-sitting beach chairs just down the beach. Hiking up my board, I make my way toward them, trying not to laugh at Jess making lewd gestures the entire time.

“You’re so sexy when you lug that board around, Sky,” Jess says, and I note the nasally tone of her voice. “Your leg muscles are sick.”

“Are we talking sick like impressive or sick like your red nose and dark eyes?”

Jess waves me off, flicking her sunglasses back down. “It’s just allergies. I’ll be fine.”

Cassie scoffs and pulls her bright red hair off her neck, obviously annoyed, though that’s way out of character for her. “She’s been coughing all morning, but refuses to go to the doctor. And she hasn’t eaten since yesterday.”

“Jess!”

“What?” She sighs exasperatedly. “It’s fine. Good for the Spring Break diet.”

Cassie and I exchange knowing looks, but don’t push further as I unpack the towels from my beach bag, spreading them out in the sand.

“You seem awfully sassy today, Little. What’s with the permanent frown?”

Cassie shifts, her mouth pulling to one side. “Do you guys think I’m a good girl?”

Jess and I pause, unsure of what the right answer is. I opt for the truth. “I mean, I wouldn’t say you’re exactly a bad girl.”

“You’re like Snow White, is what she’s trying to say,” Jess adds.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Jess shrugs. “You’re pure, innocent. You focus on your schoolwork, never really get drunk, don’t hook up with random guys. You’re straight-laced.”

“Which isn’t a bad thing,” I add, scolding Jess with my eyes.

“I’m not saying it is,” Jess defends. “Why are you suddenly concerned, though?”

Cassie is chewing her cheek, eyes on the ocean. “I don’t know. I overheard someone saying that I was too much of a ‘good girl’ for something, and it got under my skin.”

“Who?” I ask.

She shakes her head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Well, it’s not a bad thing. It shouldn’t be taken as an insult.”

“I’m just trying to figure out if that’s the way it was intended,” she says, sighing.

“I say fuck whoever said it. And, if it were me in the situation, I’d take the opportunity to prove them wrong.”

Cassie perks up a little. “What do you mean?”

She shrugs. “I’m just saying if someone called me Ms. Innocent like it was a racial slur, I’d show them just how not-innocent I can be.”

“Jess Vonnegut – Life Advisor,” I deadpan. She smirks, tossing a half-empty suntan lotion bottle at me. I catch it with ease and squeeze some in my hands, lathering my shoulders.

“Bitch.”