The Surf Shack featured pictures of the youth rescue squad through the years, and she paused to look at the group shot from her mom’s high school years. There was Mom, grinning and surrounded by her friends, proudly brandishing the under-fifteen trophy. She looked so happy there, so triumphant. She looked the way Julie felt when she’d gone off the rope swing in the Calanques.

She brought her board out from the shed. It was her dad’s board, actually, and it hadn’t seen much action since he’d died, but Julie was determined to change that. She remembered Dad telling her it was nine feet of fun, designed for learners, with a stable body and soft top. Tarek and his sister, Maya, were already there, waxing their rented boards. Tarek looked as if he’d grown a foot over the summer. His hair was longer, too, his grin just as friendly as ever. Maya was seventeen and gorgeous, with dark eyes and a flashing smile.

“The waves look perfect, just like they said on the radio,” Julie said, borrowing the sticky wad of wax.

“We’re beginners,” Maya said. “Maybe you’ll give us some tips.”

Julie rubbed her wax over the ID mark on her board. Property of J. Adams. “I’ll do my best.”

“I’m going to get changed,” said Maya. “Be right back.”

Julie put away the wax, then straightened up and took off her T-shirt, tossing it into the basket of her bike.

Tarek stared. Yep, he was totally checking her out. She tried to picture herself through his eyes—no more braces, contacts in place of glasses so she could actually see while doing sports. None of her fat clothes fit anymore, and the stuff she’d found in France looked good on her, thanks to Vivi the supermodel, who had amazing taste.

“Well, look who’s back,” came a too-familiar voice in a sarcastic drawl, startling her out of her thoughts. “Julie and her boyfriend, Aladdin.”

Julie felt weirdly calm as she turned to face Vanessa Larson. As usual, Vanessa was flanked by her squad of hangers-on, including Jana Jacobs. They all wore matching friendship bracelets made of colorful strands of leather and a blingy anchor charm.

“Yeah, go ahead and look your fill. Don’t let me stop you,” she said simply. She wasn’t scared. Her voice didn’t shake. She didn’t let her gaze waver. “We were just going to hit the surf.”

“That oughta make a big splash,” Vanessa said. She gave Julie an obvious once-over. “So what did you do in France all summer? Fat camp?”

Julie didn’t flinch. “Nice of you to notice,” she said coolly. “Too bad for you there’s no such thing as asshole camp, because you’re stuck being one for life.”

Behind her, she heard a very soft huff of laughter from Tarek. Vanessa’s face turned bright red. “You think you’re funny? Well, I think you’re—”

“Who’s this?” In all her exotic glory, Maya came back from the changing room. She looked like a goddess in an electric-blue bikini, her glossy hair spilling like a black river down her back. She offered a brilliant smile, and somehow, the smile managed to convey that she knew exactly what the situation was. “Friends of yours?”

“Yes,” Julie said with a straight face. “Maya, that’s Vanessa, Jana—”

“We were just leaving,” Vanessa said, then turned to her squad. “Let’s go for a swim. I’ll race everybody to the outer buoy.”

As they beat a hasty retreat, Julie caught Tarek’s eye. “Some things don’t change, do they?”

“Some things definitely do,” he said. He couldn’t seem to stop looking at her.

As they carried their boards out to the surf, she speculated on his meaning. And then she didn’t think at all as they paddled away from shore, ducking under the incoming waves to get out to the break. It was one of those postcard-perfect afternoons everyone loved. There were families with little kids digging in the sand, running around and squealing. Tourists from everywhere were spread out on the sand under their rented umbrellas. Couples lazed in the shade, napping or slathering each other with sunscreen. As always, the local surfers owned the area beyond the break, seeming oblivious to the swimmers all around them. And then there were the kids like Vanessa and her gang, swimming and horsing around at the beach boundary, causing the lifeguard whistles to go off every few seconds.

Julie watched them for a moment, focusing on the buoy that marked the far boundary. It was the same buoy that had been the marker during drills the day she’d wound up in the ER. She didn’t remember much after Vanessa had “accidentally” rammed her with her board. Julie had gone into the water, and for a moment she’d seen her dad’s face, as clear as if he’d been right there with her. And then . . . nothing. Nothing, until she was gagging up seawater, surrounded by EMTs, anticipating a freak-out from Mom.

In France, Mom hadn’t freaked out at all until that last day. But boy, her meltdown had been epic. And for once, Julie conceded that maybe, just maybe, it had been understandable. Seeing her daughter jumping from the rope swing had probably awakened an old nightmare. Julie had apologized up one side and down the other, but Mom had cut the trip short, and now here they were.

She led the way now with her friends in her wake. It felt good to count Tarek and Maya as friends. The Atlantic water was cool and dark beyond the shelf at the break, so different from the Mediterranean’s bright blue clarity. They made it out and missed a few good waves. Finally, they got into the rhythm of the surf and she caught a pretty good ride. It felt great to be on the board—her dad’s board. She paddled the way he’d taught her, matching the speed of the wave and then getting up in one smooth movement. “Don’t try to outsmart the ocean,” he used to say. “It’s stronger than you, but it’ll always bring you ashore.”

Look at me, Dad, she said each time she got up on the board. Look at me.

Tarek and Maya got exhausted after a while, and switched to boogie boards in the shallow surf. Julie stayed out at the break. She was watching for the next wave when a shout caught her attention. There was lots of shouting, but there was something about this—a panicked edge. She straddled her board and looked around, but didn’t see anything other than swimmers and surfers as usual. Then a wave lifted her high, and she spotted something out beyond the buoy. A slender arm waving, a blingy wrap bracelet flashing in the sun.

Something in Julie kicked in—impulse, instinct. A lecture from the first day of surf rescue: Your gut doesn’t lie. And in this moment, her gut was telling her a swimmer was in trouble. She whipped a glance at the shore and saw one of the lifeguards jump down from his post and grab a rescue board. But Julie was closer. Her surfboard wasn’t a rescue board, but she was a fast paddler, and it would do. She popped up on her knees and dug in, and within moments, she was riding parallel with the panicking swimmer.

She knew instantly the reason for the panic. Beyond the shelf where the water turned dark, a rip current was swirling. The undertow grabbed at her, turning her board into an out-of-control raft. She had to undo the ankle strap and let it go. Then she grabbed for Vanessa. Yes, the swimmer was Vanessa, but at the moment she was just a victim of the riptide that wanted to tow her far from shore.

“I’ve got you,” Julie shouted, executing a rescue hold.

Vanessa gasped and choked, fighting madly. “Help me, oh God, I can’t . . . I’m gonna drown.”

“Quit fighting,” Julie yelled directly into her ear. “I’ve got you. Remember what they taught us.” The current felt like a powerful river, dragging them along. From the corner of her eye, Julie saw two guards paddling madly toward them on their boards, but the tide was faster. “It’s going to be okay,” she said. “Just don’t fight me, okay?”

A wave lifted them, but Vanessa’s head went under. She flailed, and Julie held on tight. When Vanessa came up again, she was choking and spewing seawater. “Okay,” she gasped, her limbs going limp. “Okay, I won’t fight anymore.”

Keeping their heads above water, they moved parallel to the beach for a few moments that actually felt like forever, and then the tide began to circle back toward shore. By then, one of the lifeguards reached them. “Take her,” Julie said. “She’s okay, just scared.” She made sure Vanessa was holding fast to the tow handles behind the rescue board, and the guard headed into shore, with Julie following until the other guard caught up with her.