Clash Read Free Page A

trying to sound more confident than she felt.
    Bethany sensed her friend’s uneasiness and reached for Malia’s hand.
    “Malia, you can do it! Even though you’re a goofy foot like me and this is a big right, you still have an advantage. At least you can grab your rail with your left hand. I gotta pull in real tight to make it, so we’ll both be working at it.”
    Malia brightened at the encouragement.
    It was fun surfing with Bethany. She always made it fun. It wasn’t about who was better, bigger, braver, stronger, or more fluid. It was mostly about having fun and enjoying what God had provided: the warm sun, the crystal-clear water, the turtles darting along the cliffs, and the crisp tubing waves.
    “Don’t forget, girls,” Mrs. Hamilton cheerfully reminded them, “the best surfer in the water isn’t the one who’s ripping the hardest, it’s the one who’s having the most fun!”
    Both girls looked at each other and then back to Bethany’s mom. “Ancient surf wisdom,” she added gravely, and they all laughed.
    With that, Mrs. Hamilton slid behind the wheel of her minivan packed with surfboards, and the two girls piled into the van, followed by Ginger.
    “Hope you don’t mind if I stop by the bank on the way,” Cheri said as she backed out of the driveway and saw Bethany’s frown in the rearview mirror.
    “Mom! The bank isn’t even open this early,” Bethany said impatiently, wanting to get to the beach.
    “The ATM is always open, Bethany,” Cheri said — and Bethany saw her mom’s frown in the rearview mirror. Not good. Cheri opened her mouth to say something else, but Malia beat her to the punch . . . with something that sounded like a growl.
    “What — ” Cheri started.
    “Sorry, Mom!” Bethany said, suddenly contrite, and then she and Malia grinned at each other, pleased with their new code.
    “Okay . . . so what was the growl for?”
    “Aslan,” Malia announced, as if that would explain everything. Both girls laughed, seeing Mrs. Hamilton’s confused expression.
    “We were talking about the Chronicles of Narnia books last night,” Bethany explained. “I told Malia it would be cool if God could roar at us like Aslan to let us know if we did something wrong — ”
    “So, I offered to roar at Bethany if she does something wrong,” Malia added. “And she offered to roar at me if I do something wrong.”
    “Ah,” Cheri said, “that sounds like the mark of a true friendship!”
    Bethany nodded, glancing shyly at Malia as her mom pulled into the shopping center. She was a true friend — even if it didn’t bother her to hit the waves late as much as it did Bethany. She watched her mom head for the ATM, while Malia scrambled across the lot to get some lip balm.
    “Take your time,” Bethany called after Malia with a mischievous grin. “We’re only missing perfect waves!” She tilted her car seat back as far as it would go and leaned back so the warm sun and soft trade winds could blow across her face. All she needed now was her board and a wave.
    That’s when she heard the fight.
    “You don’t care!” a girl’s voice shouted in the clear morning air.
    “I do care,” an older woman’s voice replied. Not quite as loudly, but clearly perturbed.
    “If you really cared about me, you would’ve never done it. You would’ve never made me move here!”
    Bethany felt an uncomfortable feeling wash over her, and she sank lower in her seat. She didn’t want to hear what was going on, but it was hard not to. Way too loud to block it out, that’s for sure.
    “You don’t care if I’m happy! All you care about is if he’s happy!” yelled the girl.
    Mother/daughter feud, no doubt about it.
    “Look, life has been stressful for me too,” the mother shot back. “I’m doing the best I can to satisfy everyone, but you — you’re never satisfied!”
    The young voice rose another octave.
    “Oh, sure! You were thinking about my feelings the whole time. Like you cared that I had