Cali Crew - Nikka's Oops!

Nike sat on the beach, wiggling her bare toes in the sand as she leaned against her surfboard and looked out at the ocean. Not the ocean, but someone in the ocean and not just a random someone, but Bishop. He was busy giving a last-minute surf lesson to some tourist and his son, and the boy was catching on much quicker than the dad.

Nike’s skin was still salty from the ocean, bits of sand sticking to her still damp bikini, but that was all part of the beach, the ocean, and she didn’t mind either. She’d have been relaxing, entirely content if not for the commotion just up the beach, the one that caught her heart in her throat.

“Nikka!” Nikita shrieked. Yes, their father was a bit of a megalomaniac, insisting they all have names that start NIK like his. Her head turned quickly. There, on the sand, were giant prawn. Not giant like the type you’d find in velvet-lined Chinese restaurants, but giant - the size of small ponies.

Nike stood up, not even needing to ask.

Nikka was as pale as snow, the blood had drained from her face. “It was an accident!” She choked tearing up as the pack of shrimp skittered in panic in various directions.

Screaming panic ensued as one of the shrimp, heedless of who was in the way made a break for the ocean knocking people and things over in the process.

“It’s okay!” Nikita soothed, even though it wasn’t okay. They were on a crowded beach. Everyone saw. She put a comforting arm around Nikka’s shoulder. Nike knew it too. They’d have to move again. A lump formed in her throat. They’d called Cali Beach home for two years, longer than anyplace else they’d ever lived, but something always happened, and they always had to leave. It wasn’t exactly illegal to have survived the carbon plague, it was just illegal to use any sort of powers it left behind. And Nikka had always been accident prone.

“C’mon, let’s get back to the bungalow,” Nike told her sisters as she looked around for Bishop. “We’ll figure it out. It’s okay, Nikka, it was an accident. Accidents happen.” They just always happen to Nikka.

Bishop was padding up, surfboard under one arm. “Did you see that? A shrimp the size of dog just knock me ass over … ooooooh … We should go.” He suggested. “Now.”

Nikita ran ahead to grab the surfboards, leaving the beach towels behind. There was only so much a girl could carry.

Nike rubbed circles on Nikka’s back in as comforting a manner as she could muster. Shrieks could still be heard on the beach as he last of the mammoth prawn made it back to the water. Nike counted at least a dozen people on phones recording.

“Maybe none of them saw what happened,” Nikita offered, hoping that would convince Nike they should stay. Cali Beach was the best place they ever lived, the sun, the sand, the surf.

“Maybe,” Nike said half-heartedly.

“Let's not stay and find out.” Bishop said loading up whatever he could carry and hurriedly ushered them to the car. “ It’s Cali … I’m sure stranger things have happened.” He said with a weak smile as the quick;y lined up the boards on the roof.

Nikka was not comforted. She didn’t like the idea of moving. She hated it. She hated it even more because it would be her fault and they would be leaving a place she really loved. She was already wiping hot tears away. She hated being such a jinx.

Nike slid in the front next to Bishop, and Nikita tried to not look bitter. It wasn’t Nikka’s fault - she didn’t blame her, but it was hard not to be disappointed. Stupid rules about powers and dangers… Still, she knew what it would mean if anyone got a whiff of it - group home.. Sure they made it look fancy and you weren’t locked in your room, but you couldn’t leave. And that meant they’d be split up. She put her hand over Nikka’s. “It’s going to be okay,” she promised.

Nikka just looked down a and nodded trying to swallow the lump in her throat as she wiped tears away. It didn't feel like things were going to be okay. She wouldn't say out loud but right now she felt like the millstone around her sister's neck.

Bishop turned the car over and was quick to make tracks and put as much space between them and the incident as possible. "She right, it'll be fine. Accidents happen. We just keep a low profile for now that's all. Let get back, I'll make coffee and we'll be laughing about it tonight next to a fire on the beach cooking hotdogs."

Nike smiled, and put her hand over his on the center console. Bishop had a way of making things better. Always. And no one made a better cup of coffee.

"It'll be okay. Really." Bishop assured Nike. "Stuff like this happens all the time. People can't be perfect all the time."