Clash Read Free Page B

to leave my horse, like you cared that I had to leave my friends, like you cared that you made us sell everything to come here! You’re nothing more than a self-centered . . .” And then she used a swear word on her mother. In fact, she unleashed a torrent of horrible words on her mother.
    Bethany winced.
    The Hamilton kids had always been taught to respect and honor their parents — even if they disagreed with them. And while Bethany knew that from time to time she could get a little sarcastic —like this morning with the diversion to the bank before going surfing — to truly show disrespect at the level that was coming from the car nearby was unthinkable.
    It was a firm family rule.
    The voices in the other car scrambled together as the mother returned the verbal abuse, and the argument ended with both parties yelling and swearing at each other at the top of their lungs.
    Bethany considered for a moment showing herself by sliding up into her seat when, suddenly, they stopped shouting. A car started, and Bethany raised her head slowly to catch a glimpse at the brawlers.
    She only managed to catch the back end of an older-model tan sedan with a broken taillight speeding away.
    “Unbelievable!” Bethany muttered.
    A few moments later, her mom appeared at the car door. “Okay! Let’s go surfing!”
    “Malia isn’t back yet,” said Bethany with a distracted frown.
    Then the slap of flip-flops could be heard as Malia ran to the car.
    “Sorry, sorry!” she said. “I got behind a guy who paid for all his stuff with change.”
    “Excuses, excuses,” Bethany said teasingly, then turned back to her mom. “Mom, what would you do if Noah, Tim, or I ever swore at you?”
    “First, I would cry,” said her mother.
    “Cry?”
    “I’d cry because I would be hurt by your lack of respect.”
    “Oh,” Bethany said softly with a side glance at Malia, but her best friend was turned, looking out the window.
    “And then I would tell your father,” said Cheri. “And then you would cry.” Bethany’s mother smiled.
    “Ah!” Bethany said. “Then it would be Ivory soap time.”
    “A full diet of Ivory soap, followed by restriction to your room until you’re eighteen, and hours of slave labor — oh, and surfboards hacked to pieces.”
    “You mean you wouldn’t pull off my fingernails too?” Bethany laughed.
    “Honestly, I don’t know what your father would do,” her mother said. “But I’m sure it would cure the situation once and for all. Why? Are you thinking of cussing me out?”
    “No, I just overheard some girl cursing at her mom, and it kinda made me sick to my stomach. I just don’t get families that do stuff like that.” She glanced at Malia, who appeared to be thinking hard about all that was being said.
    “We’ve taught you well, thank God. It should bother you. Who was it? Someone we know?”
    “We don’t know them,” Bethany said and then wrinkled her nose. “I don’t think I want to, either.”
    Malia didn’t say a word, which seemed odd to Bethany. Instead, Malia turned and looked back out the window. But not before Bethany had caught the troubled look on her friend’s face.

two
    The conversation was soon forgotten as Bethany’s mother steered the minivan around the narrow cliff-side roads, passing new million-dollar homes of movie stars and the ramshackle houses of a few old-time residents. Bethany and Malia hung their heads out the windows, drinking in the rich smell of blossoming plumeria trees and laughing at wild chickens that darted quickly out of their path, hustling young chicks in front of them.
    Then the road dropped down a steep incline that opened up onto a majestic bay. Bethany felt her excitement rise. At the near end of the crescent, there were only a couple of cars with empty surf racks that bore greasy stains from melted surfboard wax on their rust-eaten roofs and trunks.
    Plenty of room left for us, Bethany thought happily.
    Just past the cars, a long rugged point of