"Whoever walks with the wise becomes wise, but the companion of fools will suffer harm." – Proverbs 13:20

"How was that wipeout, Alana?" Koa asked with a knowing smile. It was Sunday afternoon, and the gang had just finished watching a few unedited clips and pictures that Trevor had sent them from Huntington. They were seated in a booth at Scottie's with Alana's computer placed at the far end of the table.

Koa's comment must have hit a nerve, because Alana immediately flushed and closed her laptop. "It hurt," she sighed. "A lot."

"Yeah, it looked like it!" Jake whistled. "I hope Trevor plays your wipeout in slo-mo. I want to see the horrified look on your face as you go over the falls."

Alana groaned. Much to her chagrin, Trevor had got her embarrassing wipeout on camera, and the gang was thoroughly entertained by it. They loved to see her dive headfirst off her surfboard and get smacked by the lip of the wave.

"Okay, so maybe it was a little funny," she admitted, "but getting held down by the rest of the set was not."

Maya winced. "Yeah, I can see that..."

"So when is Trevor going to release his completed video?" Cole interrupted.

"Hopefully by this weekend," Alana said. "He's going to email me the file."

"I can't wait!" Blaine gushed. "Even the raw clips we just watched look professionally done. I can't imagine what the edited result is going to look like."

"They only look professional because we surf like professionals," Jake pointed out, grinning.

They laughed and slowly filed out of the booth. Alana tucked her laptop underneath her arm and sandwiched herself between Maya and Cole, causing Koa to feel a twinge of hurt. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and looked away. The bells on the front door jangled as his friends headed outside, but he stayed put.

"No Bible study today?" a voice asked.

Koa spun around and realized it was Nikki, carrying a dirty dishtowel in one hand and an empty tray in the other. He smiled wearily. "No, we decided to skip the study and watch some videos instead," he explained. "A friend filmed us surfing yesterday."

"Ah." She nodded. "That's why Blaine didn't have his Bible."

"You should be a detective," Koa joked. He followed her to the counter, where she put the tray and dishtowel away before resting her elbows on the countertop.

"A detective would be better than this job," she said wistfully.

"I think Scottie's is a cool place to work. Don't you like it here?"

She sighed. "Well, yeah. I have good pay and it's close to home. But I'm a community college student and I need a part-time job. I just didn't think I would ever be a waitress."

Koa cocked his head to one side, studying her carefully. "You have bigger aspirations?"

She smiled. "Forensic science."

He laughed. "I called it!"

"I just thought I would have an internship by now," she said. "But I guess I don't have a reason to complain. Scottie's is nice."

"It gets pretty good business."

"Well, you and your friends are the highlight of the week. You're the most regular customers we have."

He withdrew his hands from his pockets and placed them on the counter, drumming his fingers on the surface. "Maybe I should start coming more often."

"Maybe."

He grinned. "You know, my offer still stands—you're more than welcome to join my friends' Bible study any time."

"Maybe," she said again. "Church stuff isn't really my thing, though."

"Don't think of it as church," he said, pushing off the counter and heading towards the door. "We're just a group of friends who like to talk about God."

The corners of her lips turned up in a half-smile. "I noticed."

Koa pushed open the door, setting off the noisy bells. "See you later, Nikki."

"Later," she called.

That same evening, fifteen minutes after the service was over, Cole stood outside in the church parking lot next to his dad and brother. He folded his arms over his chest to ward off the cold. He didn't want to be rude, but his father had been talking to one of the church elders for quite some time, and Cole was growing impatient. All he wanted to do was go home, eat some dessert, and crash on the couch. Judging by the yawns coming from Blaine, it was clear he felt the same way too.

Cole finally found a hole in the adults' conversation and tugged on his dad's sleeve. "Hey," he said quietly, "can Blaine and I walk home?"

Mr. Anderson paused and swept his gaze over the sunset-tinted parking lot. "Sure, as long as you make it home before dark. Oh—you know what? I think you boys left your skateboards in the back of the car. You should take those."

Cole and Blaine exchanged a look. "Great," Blaine said automatically. "Let's do this."

The twins jogged over to the car. Mr. Anderson unlocked it from where he was still standing in front of the church. Cole popped open the trunk and grabbed their skateboards. He handed one to Blaine and dropped the other one on the ground. Then he stepped on and began pedaling, cruising between the rows of cars until he was out on the street.

Blaine was right on his heels. The sound of skateboard wheels whirring over the asphalt pierced the quiet evening air. The guys quickly picked up speed as they turned the corner, coasting down a slight hill.

"You wanna take the long way around?" Cole called over his shoulder.

Blaine shrugged. "Sure."

Cole pushed off the ground with his back foot to gain speed. He was approaching a curb to the sidewalk, which he easily popped up and over, landing safely on the other side.

They cruised down the street, navigating their way between curbs, rocks, and overgrown bushes. For a few minutes, the ocean was in view, tinted a deep blue beneath the ever-darkening sky.

The twins were only a few minutes away from home when the sound of laughter reached their ears. Cole's skin bristled when he smelled something nauseatingly sweet in the air. Blaine noticed it too, so he narrowed his eyes and motioned for Cole to keep skating.

A few yards later, they passed by an opening in the rows of trees on their right-hand side. Eight teenagers were sitting around a wooden table, a thin layer of smoke hovering around their heads. Two of them turned their heads at the sound of the twins' skateboards, but they didn't say anything. A girl's laughter rang out louder than the rest, causing Cole to stiffen.

"Keep moving," Blaine said quietly but firmly.

Cole felt frozen in place. He was about to step off his skateboard, but Blaine's words pierced him like a knife. He quickly looked away and kept pedaling, trying to shake off the nerves that were rattling him to his core. With his head bowed and his body straining to pedal faster and faster, he focused on nothing but skating. Every movement made his lungs feel as if they were on fire.

When the twins finally reached their driveway, Cole stopped and took a seat on his skateboard to catch his breath. He rubbed his sore calves painfully.

"Well, that was awkward," Blaine said lightly.

Cole just shook his head, at a loss for words. His mouth felt dry and useless.

Blaine shifted uncomfortably. "Look, man, what happened back there—"

"I almost stopped," Cole blurted out. "I almost jumped off right then and there and walked over to them..."

"I know. And I didn't want you to."

Cole glanced up at his brother with gratitude. "It just hit me, you know? The smell, and the laughing...it was like I had been sent back in time. It was like I could see myself at that table—"

His hands were shaking. Blaine said firmly, "Stop. Don't do this to yourself. You're not the Cole that everybody used to know. You may have done some stupid things in the past, but that's gone now."

Cole knew his brother was right, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it. His mind acknowledged one thing while his heart fought against it. That girl, the one who laughed louder than everyone else—

"Did you see her?" Cole blurted out. "Did you recognize Taylor?"

Blaine sighed. "I'd hoped it wasn't her."

"She's never been like that. After all the parties we went to, she never let herself go overboard. She was smart. Her parents would flip if they found out she was taking hits."

For once in his life, Blaine was at a loss for words. Cole filled the silence by letting out a deep sigh, standing up, and heading for the garage. The twins entered the house through the back door and were greeted by empty silence. Blaine flicked on the kitchen light and took a seat at the table.

Cole grabbed some water from the fridge and took a deep draught. He leaned back against the counter, fingering his water bottle with a look of intense concentration.

"Have you noticed the guys at school?" he asked.

"Your old friends?" Blaine said.

Cole nodded.

"I noticed that they've been ignoring you, and you've been ignoring them—until the fistfight with Logan, that is."

"That's my point," Cole said. "I feel like I'm making a big deal out of nothing, but it irks me to see the way they've been treating me. How could they turn their backs on me so quickly?"

Blaine traced a line of dust on the table with one finger. "They're the wrong crowd for you, man. They've always been. Even when you were best friends with some of them, they never really had your back."

"I know, and that's what bugs me," Cole said irritably. "I knew that all along. I felt like I belonged with them more than I did with the gang, but now it's the opposite. I wasted years with those freaks, and this is how they treat me."

"They're not freaks," Blaine corrected him. "They're just kids looking to have fun in the wrong places. But while they're partying and getting high, you're making the right decision by avoiding them. They're not worth your time, so don't stress about it anymore."

Cole nodded. His brother stood up and headed to his bedroom, but Cole stayed in the kitchen, still fingering his bottle. He took another sip before placing it in the fridge.

Blaine was right—Cole shouldn't worry about his old friends anymore. They were a thing of the past. The way they treated him at school paled in comparison to the real friendships he had with the gang. Now they would always have his back. Jake, Alana, Maya, Blaine, and Koa—they would never abandon him like his old group had. So why did moving on hurt as much as it did?

As Cole retreated to his own bedroom and shoved some headphones into his ears, another thought continued to plague him: Taylor. He knew he had broken all ties with her, but seeing her acting so wild with their old friends made him cringe. She was an avid partier, but there had been something in her eyes tonight—something wild. Something must have caused her to start acting differently. Maybe her parents were out of town, and she figured she could do whatever she wanted. Or maybe, while Cole was on the upswing, Taylor was doing the exact opposite. She was on a downward spiral, heading to who knows where.

Cole felt his skin prickle with goosebumps. No, he thought stubbornly. He had to stop thinking about her. She had taken advantage of him more than once, and Cole was done with her drama.