West Coast

Chapter 9: Clarissa

Waking up I feel a pounding in my head and a pain in my lower back. Mare was right, I should have stopped working out a lot sooner last night. I have a big game tomorrow, and if I can make the newspapers my parents might actually come to the next one. They told me they have some charity dinner to go to, so they won't be able to make it. Derek told me he would come watch, but I know he's only trying to pity me. It normally wouldn't bother me-- a lot of the girls on the team have parents who are too busy to show up-- but it upsets me because they go to all of Derek's events. I know I'm not going to the olympics for volleyball, but I'm still their daughter. If they can make time for my stupid brother, why can't they make time for me?

"Clair!" Derek comes bounding into my room without permission and turns on the lights. "What are we doing today?" He thrusts the curtains open and I have to cover my eyes to block out the sunlight. He's wearing a track suit and his hair is wet, so either he just got out of the shower or he's already been out for a run.

"I have to go to the club later and work on my serve." I groan, burrowing further into the covers just as he rips them off of me. 

"Oh, come on." He scoffs. "You went to the club yesterday, let's do something fun!"

"Fun?" I squint at him, sitting up and giving up on the idea of sleeping in. "What do you mean by fun?"

Derek smiles. "I don't know. Let's just drive around and see where life takes us." He's in a cheery mood and it's making my head hurt even worse. "We can drive down the coast, get ice cream, go shopping, whatever you want."

"Did you break something of mine?" I ask, suspicious of his intentions. 

"No." He assures me. He calms down a bit and sits down beside me. "Look, Clair. I've seen you killing yourself all week long and I think you need to take a break. Breaking your back for another day won't make a difference. You're a good player, just give it a rest for one afternoon."

I narrow my eyes at him before finally answering. "Fine."

"Awesome!" He hops up and claps his hands together. "Alright, get dressed. We gotta get going!"

I sigh as he runs back out of the room. I can hear his footsteps as his flounces down the grand staircase and take a deep breath in.I crawl out of my bed and walk over to my closet, struggling to keep my eyes open. As I'm leafing through my clothes, Derek walks back in and puts a Starbucks cup in my hand. "Dark chocolate mocha with an extra shot of espresso, just the way you like it." And with that, he's gone again. 

Even though there's no question he sent the housekeeper out to get it, I have to admire his thoughtfulness. As much as I hate him for being successful and perfect, he's a great brother. He coaches at a high school across town, but he doesn't work that many hours, so he's always around. He probably should have moved out a long time ago, but our parents told him he's welcome to stay in the house for as long as he wants. I can't help but wonder if I'll be offered the same agreement one day. 

I throw on a pair of jeans and a soft blue top before grabbing my purse and heading down to the first floor. Derek is typing something on his phone, and there's a bright smile stretched across his face. He's changed as well, into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt with Ocean View High School Swim Team plastered on the front. 

"Do you really have to advertise the fact that you work for our rival high school?" I raise a skeptical eyebrow at him and he just laughs. 

"Anything to embarrass my little sister." He reaches out to ruffle my hair but I dodge his attack and cross my arms over my chest. 

We start to head out to the car and I can't help but continue to make fun of him. "You know, you should really get the word 'coach' written on the back of that shirt. People are going to think you're eighteen."

"Please." He scoffs. "Adults wear old school shirts all the time. No one will care."

"Yeah, because you're such an adult, Mr. chocolate milk mustache." I mock him and his hand flies to his upper lip, wiping away the evidence. 

"It was a protein shake." He mutters under his breath as we hop into the car. He pulls out of the gate and immediately slams on the gas. Derek is probably one of the worst drivers in the world, but somehow he's never even gotten a ticket. "So, how's life?"

I look at him a grin. "What kind of question is that?"

Derek shrugs. "I don't know. I just wanna know what's going on."

I sigh and let it all spill out. "Well, I have a huge game tomorrow and my serve is still horrendous. My back is killing me, but not as much as mom and dad are, and you're super duper annoying."

"Annoying?" He puts his hand on his chest like he was just shot. "Me? Never."

I throw my head back against the seat and hold in a scream. "Do you know how stressful it is to be your sibling?"

"No." He says matter-of-factly. "Please explain this phenomenon to me."

I shake my head, refusing to laugh at his joke. "You're the golden boy, and I'm just Derek Bankard's little sister."

This time, it's Derek who sighs. "Clarissa, you know I'm never going to apologize for being a good swimmer. I'm allowed to be proud of myself." He only ever calls me by my full name when he's really serious about something.

"I know." I murmur. "You should be proud of yourself. I'm just being selfish."

Derek narrows his eyes as he merges onto the freeway. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

He hesitates for a second. "Do you ever think about trying to find someone? Trying to date someone?"

"Date?" My heart clenches tight and my head starts to spin. "No," I whisper. "I've never thought about it."

Derek shrugs. "Sorry. I just thought, maybe you would be happier if you found a person to be happy with."

"I don't want to talk about this with you." I point my gaze down at my hands, which have started to fidget with each other. 

"I'll let it go." Derek concedes, plunging us into an awkward silence for the rest of the trip. We drive up the coast for about an hour, but then Derek pulls off the road and parks next to a patch of palm trees. 

"Where are we?" I ask when he pulls the key out of the ignition and goes to get out of the car. 

"The beach." He says happily. 

"The beach? Why would we drive an hour and a half just to go to the beach? We have a beach right down the street from our house." I scoff, following him out of the car and slinging my purse over my shoulder.  

"This one is special." Derek is smiling brightly to himself as he starts to head down a narrow set of wooden steps that are inlaid in the sand. Halfway down the steps I start to get annoyed.

"Please tell me why we're here, Derek." I plead, wishing I had worn more appropriate shoes. 

My brother takes a big breath in, probably trying to smell the water. Typical swimmer, I think to myself. Finally, once we've reached the bottom of the steps, he turns to face me. "It's a privately owned beach. My friend Jake's parents own it, and we used to come down here in high school to hang out."

"And?" I ask, not really seeing the point.

Derek shrugs. "I thought you'd like it." He says. "It's quiet, there's no one else around, and the tide isn't too high." He takes off his sandals, chucks them into the sand and sits himself down on the ground. "Join me?" I oblige, taking my shoes off and clearing a few shells out of the way before sitting down. I dread the thought of having to wash the sand out of my pants.

We sit there for hours, talking about anything and everything. As much as I hate living my life in Derek's olympic shadow, he's still my brother and one of my best friends. The little voice in my head is telling me to go find a ball and practice my serve, but I shove it down and try to focus on the burning sun, high up above us. For once in my life, it feels nice to just sit and stare.