The Newcomer (Thunder Point #2)(91)

“You’re an athlete! You know what the problems with steroids are! Not only does it hurt your body, your personality, but it changes the playing field so it’s not athlete against athlete but athlete against superdrugs! And you can’t blame this on some girl.”

“It was her,” he said. “I think she used me and tricked me. I think she wanted me to do whatever it took to go pro. She wanted to hook up with a ballplayer.”

“Well, we’d all give you the prize for being stupid, except you and me—we’re in a dead heat for that prize.”

His brow wrinkled in confusion; he didn’t get it. “Ash, give me another chance. I’ll make it up to you. I swear to God.”

“No.”

He took a step toward her; she took a step back. “I need you, Ash. I need help to get through this. I need to feel like someone’s on my side. Please.”

“No.”

“Ashley, I’ve been wrecked by this. I know I made mistakes, but Jesus, nothing I did is so bad I should have to go through this! I lost everything! Everyone is pissed at me and no one understands the pressure I was under. Everyone was counting on me—my team, my friends, my family....”

She just shook her head. She actually did feel sorry for him. But not that sorry. “What happened to you, Downy? You went to State as this town’s shining star. You had a nice girlfriend who would never cheat on you, a full ride scholarship so you could get an education—something a lot of us little people are working our tails off to try to pay for. You even had agents sniffing around, telling you you’d go pro before you’re even dry behind the ears. And how did you respect all that? You decided to break all the rules. You cheated. You hurt everyone and now you want them all to be a little more understanding, to let it go. You know what, Downy? You have your work cut out for you, because you’re going to have to earn back the respect you lost.”

He was quiet for a moment, then he said, “Tell me what to do, Ash. I’ll do whatever you want.”

She smiled and shook her head. “Hey, there’s nothing for you to do for me—I’m over you. I think when an altered na**d picture of me went out to about four hundred cell phones and Facebook friends and you shrugged it off and said, it was just a joke, that put the last nail in the coffin.”

“Hey, come on, I was mad about that! We had a fight about that! That was wrong, that she did that!”

“And you couldn’t even call me, explain and say you were sorry? I went through all that alone, and did you care? Nothing is ever your fault. Yeah, you have a long way to go. Good luck, Downy.”

She turned and walked away. He called to her; she heard him but she didn’t turn around. In that moment, with a smile on her face, Ashley knew she was finally well and truly over Crawford Downy. When Ashley was home, she found her mom and Mac sitting on the porch steps, a little votive candle between them. She told them she was tired and went inside.

Ashley went to her room, got into her little boxers and tank top and sat cross-legged on her bed with her cell phone in her hand. It was ten. Probably too late. But she took a chance and put through the call. When he said hello, she said, “Eric? It’s Ashley. It’s late, I know—should I try you another time?”

“It’s okay,” he said. “I was going through some paperwork and I’d love an excuse to stop that. What’s up?”

“I would have called earlier, but I worked at the diner until after nine.”

“You put in some long days, don’t you, Ashley?”

“Sometimes, I do. This is very last-minute, but I don’t have to go to work until three on Sunday afternoon and I’m not working at the deli at all that day. Would you like to come to Thunder Point and go paddleboarding? I think you have potential.”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t miss it. What time?”

“Can you be at my house at about ten?”

“I’ll be there.”

* * *

On Sunday morning they launched off the marina dock and even though the bay was completely calm, Eric went in almost immediately. And getting back on the board wasn’t exactly graceful. “I know we’ve been over this, but you’re a good swimmer. Right?” Ashley asked. “I’m not going to have to save your life, am I?”

He spit and sputtered. “I’m a good swimmer.”

“Take your time. It’s a good day on the bay.”

“It’s a beautiful day all around,” he said.

But after that first big splash, Eric found his footing and kept up with her. They paddled around the bay, skirting the big, protruding rocks. A couple of small sailboats left the marina and headed out to the Pacific.

“Does everyone in this town have some kind of board or boat?” he asked.

“Just about. A lot of people like to dive, but the best diving is up the coast a little bit. There are a few places where the water is deep and clear and there’s lots of marine life. A few of us have taken our boards up there, past Coos Bay.”

“You don’t dive?”

She shrugged. “Diving gear is pretty expensive.” At the mouth of the bay, she stopped and sat down on her board, just enjoying the endless expanse of ocean. “You don’t want to get too far to either side out here,” she cautioned. “There are some sharp rocks and big waves at the tips of the points. It’s best to stay in the center and if a boat’s on the way in, get out of the way.”