When at last he spoke, his voice was husky. “See you soon, Bree.”
“See you soon, Trey.”
We held hands a moment longer, and then I turned and walked away, my arm tingling the whole way home.
Chapter 14
At 2:45 p.m. on the dot, Natasha called to let me know the Lyft was on its way. “His name is Zoltan and he’s driving a white Hyundai. He’ll be there in eight minutes.”
“You could’ve texted me that information.”
“Just go wait downstairs before you mess up my rating.”
I grabbed my overnight bag, double-checking that I’d remembered to pack a bikini for that hot tub goodness, and hustled out the door. As soon as I got to the curb, Zoltan pulled up, then whisked me out of PB and up the I-5 toward Encinitas.
Friday traffic being what it was, we didn’t get very far on the highway before slowing to a bumper-to-bumper crawl. A glance at Zoltan’s GPS said the trip was going to take almost an hour, so I whipped out my phone to pass the time.
Instagram came through with its usual eye candy: a latte with a feather pattern etched into the foam; a book in a blanket-lined basket; a bikini model holding a surfboard on a white-sand beach, turquoise waves gently lapping the shore. That particular photo had over four thousand comments, and there were ten different sponsors tagged—everything from the hat on her head to the polish on her toes. I wondered if that was the kind of quality content Shayla served up.
I was dying to know what Shayla looked like, but it would be hard to find her on Instagram; a quick search showed over a hundred influencers named Shayla (or Shay), a handful of which were verified. So I did what any normal person in the twenty-first century would do, and I googled her.
The search phrase “Trey Cantu Shayla” returned approximately twenty-one thousand results. From this, I learned her last name was “Miller,” and she was drop-dead gorgeous. I also learned that she and Trey had spent a lot of time getting photographed in public together. There were photos of the two of them cuddling on the beach, posing in front of step-and-repeat banners, and cozying up on what looked like nightclub banquets. In one, they were sharing an extremely sensual kiss.
This was torture. I needed to stop.
But before I closed down the browser window, one of the search results caught my eye. An article from SurfBuzz.com detailing an incident that happened almost two months ago, in Sydney. Naturally, I clicked it to read more.
CANTU CAN’T DO: WSF Suspends Trey Indefinitely for Tweetstorm
By Dax Ruffin, SurfBuzz Staff Reporter
After a Twitter tirade against the World Surf Federation, Trey Cantu has been expelled midway through the Sydney Surf Pro and indefinitely suspended from all future WSF events until a full investigation can be completed.
During Wednesday’s Round Two heat against Zander Nakamura, Cantu was slapped with an unsportsmanlike interference call, resulting in the loss of half of his lowest scoring ride—a significant blow to Cantu, whose ranking has been slowly slipping all season. Upset by the call, Cantu stormed from the ocean, swore at Nakamura and the judges, then tweeted the following:
@treycantusurf
Disgusted with the call today. WSF is more concerned with commercial opportunities than protecting the integrity of the sport. Judges no longer reward competitors for technical competence, but for ass-kissing abilities and star power. In short: Fuck this shit.
According to Article 180 of the WSF Rule Book, any comments broadcast from social media accounts “disparaging the sport of surfing or causing harm to the WSF image” are grounds for “immediate expulsion or suspension upon the first offense.” This is the latest in a series of disappointments for the once-revered Cantu, who’d won two championships in previous WSF World Tours.
Attempts to contact Cantu for comment have been unsuccessful. At the time this article went to press, Cantu had deleted all his social media accounts. Nakamura has remained silent on the incident, though his girlfriend—and Cantu’s ex—Shayla Miller tweeted, “I hope Trey finally gets the help he needs.”
Yeesh. This was a mess I had not been prepared to deal with.
Turns out I’d been right when I suspected Trey had been involved in some sort of scandal. Though, frankly, I was having a hard time picturing how this could’ve gone down. The vision of a screaming, angry, unsportsmanlike Trey was incongruous with the Trey I’d been introduced to. With me, he had always been gentle, supportive, soft-spoken. Was he secretly some rageaholic? Or had this been an isolated incident, spurred on by a broken heart?
Either way, that tweet from Shayla did not instill confidence. What kind of “help” did he need?
This escape from PB couldn’t have come at a better time. When the car pulled up in front of Natasha’s house, I left all thoughts of Trey and Shayla behind, intent on spending the weekend relaxing and enjoying my family.
Izzy answered the door and immediately vaulted into my arms. “Auntie Bree!”
“Hey, Iz! It’s so good to see you.”
I wrapped my arms around her slender little body, closing my eyes as I nuzzled the crook of her neck. It was hard to believe over six years had passed since I first saw her at the hospital, wrapped up like a burrito in a Plexiglas bassinet. I’d been too nervous to pick her up, afraid I might break her, but Natasha had trusted me completely. She sat me down in the vinyl visitor’s chair and placed newborn Isabella in my arms.
As soon as I felt the weight of Izzy’s warm, wiggly body, I was suddenly no longer afraid. How could there be fear in a world where something as perfect as this tiny little human existed? And my sister had created her! After everything Natasha had endured, she’d still managed to build this beautiful life for herself. A home, a family, a purpose. In that moment, for the first time since our mom died, I felt like the possibilities for my future were endless, too.
Needless to say, the feeling was fleeting. But I still thought my niece was perfect. Possibly the most perfect person in the entire world.
“Are you ready to have fun tonight?” I asked.
“Yes!” Her eyes lit up as she looked at me. “Mommy got me a new Lego set—Princess Ariel’s castle! Wanna build it with me?”
“You bet.” Natasha told me Izzy had recently discovered The Little Mermaid and was a full-fledged Ariel fangirl now. Apparently, she’d even redecorated her bedroom in a splashy mermaid theme. “I can’t wait to see how your room looks.”
“Isabella, what did I tell you about answering the door without someone around?” Natasha descended into the hallway, carefully negotiating the stairs in her portrait collar satin gown and peep-toe stilettos. At the landing, she smoothed a hand over her chignon, assuring every last hair was in place. “You never know who could be ringing the doorbell.”