Page 4 of Beyond The Break

“That’s absolutely disgusting,” Zalea spits out, irritation evident in her tone.

I nod in agreement. “I think it was their way of trying to get me to leave town. My parents were well loved in that town, and I suppose they needed someone to blame, which happened to be me.”

“I suppose blaming the other driver involved in the accident was too much of an ask for your town?” she asks sarcastically.

I so desperately wish I could blame someone else for the accident but after years of that day running on repeat in my head, I know I’m the one to blame for their deaths. If it hadn’t been for me, they would still be here today. I feel my throat tighten and I blink away the newly forming tears before continuing.

“It died down after a while, but I had already lost all my friends. They didn’t want to associate themselves with my reputation or my bad luck.”

“Sounds like you had some shitty friends.” She tuts.

I nod in agreement. “Then I got this amazing job as a Retention Marketing Manager with this amazing company… but the articles resurfaced online this past month and I lost my job again,” My voice cracks. “Four days ago.”

I go on to tell her how Gabriel offered me a job with the team, and I share my fear of being rejected in a new town by a group of people I’ve never met. By the end of my rant, the second shots arrive, and we pause to take them. I don’t cough as much the second time around, but my throat still feels aflame.

Zalea wipes the corner of her mouth before resting her head on her fist and watching me with kind eyes. “Can I see the articles?” she asks, and for a second time this week I search up my name.

But this time, unlike last time, the search results come upempty. The articles and any social media post that was talking about me are gone; completely wiped from the search pages. I stare down at my phone stunned.

“They’re gone,” I whisper, double checking that I spelled my name right. “How is that possible?”

Zalea smiles knowingly. “Did you show Gabriel the articles by any chance?”

I look up at her, eyes wide. “Yeah, but he only looked at them for a couple of seconds.”

“That’s all he needs,” she says, sitting upright again. “It’s kind of his superpower, controlling the media.”

She signals the bartender for one more round before staring down at her empty glass and tapping her fingers along the side, her gaze contemplative. “You’ve got to have a tough backbone for that team, especially for Griffin. He’s returning to the team after six months away recovering from an injury; I’ve never met anyone as miserable as that guy.”

“Great,” I groan, slumping forward and pressing my warm cheek to the cool bar top. “So, it’s basically guaranteed he won’t be a fan of me being there.”

She chuckles. “I don’t know about that; I have a feeling you might be the only person with enough patience to cheer that fucker up. The way I see it, you really have nothing to lose if you take this new opportunity. If it doesn’t work out, you can fall back to Plan C.”

“I don’t have a Plan C.” I admit, closing my eyes as I bask in the coolness of the bar.

“Running away to Italy is my plan C.” Zalea confesses, smiling down at her glass. “You’ll figure it out.”

“It’s just scary, and I don’t know if I’m as confident as Gabriel is that I’ll be able to do the job,” I say, folding in on myself slightly.

“Scary is good,” she says, sliding her credit card toward thebartender when he brings us our third round of shots. “It means you’re being pushed out of your comfort zone.”

“I like my comfort zone, it’s safe.” I mumble quietly as I stare at the empty glass in front of me.

“Your comfort zone is limiting you, Eliana.” She places a hand atop of mine. “You need to be uncomfortable if you want to grow and succeed. Take it from me, you can’t live your life taking people’s shit, or letting their opinions define you. That shit will kill you.”

“Wow,” I laugh dryly, sitting upright. “You sounded very wise there.”

She grins. “Hey, you don’t get as far in this industry as I am because of pretty looks.”

I laugh and smile down at the full shot glass. “Would you ever join that team?”

“I actually was part of it once upon a time, but I discovered I prefer going at it solo and it seems to be paying off so far.” Zalea’s cool tone tells me she isn’t interested in being the topic of conversation.

She reaches past me and plucks my phone from the bar, typing her contact information into it. “You can text or call me whenever you want to talk.”

I look at her with a newfound respect. Even though she’s one of the biggest up and coming names in the surfing world, she’s still very normal. Very grounded. She winks at me before handing me my shot.

We both tilt our heads back and pour the bitter liquid down our throats, the burn less intense this time, and my legs begin to feel like jelly.

---