by Nikki Godwin
Chapter Twenty-Two
I kick off my flip flops before we step into the sand and carry them down to where Reed’s Jeep is parked. He’s staked out an awesome spot to watch the amateur division. Only A.J. is with him, and neither will make a big deal out of the fact that Vin and I are approaching the shoreline hand-in-hand.
“I knew it!”
I recognize the voice vaguely, in that way like I should totally know it yet I don’t. I look over my shoulder, and it’s impossible to miss the only guy on the beach wearing a real flower lei, straight from that Hawaiian culture he was born and raised in.
“You totally denied it,” Kale says, walking up on the other side of me. “You said you weren’t messing with Brooks.”
“And at the time, I wasn’t,” I reply. I still wouldn’t say I’m “messing with” Vin, whatever Kale means by that. I can only imagine.
Kale laughs. “It’s cool. He needs someone. He’s been lonely way too long.”
Vin shrugs his shoulders then shakes his head. “I love how everyone just talks about me like I’m not standing here.” Luckily he laughs after he says it. “I’ll be back. I’m going to give Topher one of those brotherly lectures before he goes in.”
By ‘brotherly’, I hope he means wishing Topher good luck and telling him to be careful rather than chewing him out for still wanting to compete. Every time Topher surfs in the Pacific, he’s surfing with the ashes of the one other person Vin really cared about. Still, that’s not enough for Vin. And I get that – he doesn’t want to lose Topher next.
Kale walks along with Vin but veers off from the competition crowd to meet up with Miles and Jace. I’ll miss this – the atmosphere and community and people – when I leave tonight. The east coast doesn’t have any West Coast Hooligans.
I walk over to Topher’s truck and sit down next to A.J. on the tailgate. “Thanks for saving me a seat,” I say.
“No problem,” he says. He stares ahead, I think. His sunglasses hide his eyes. “I’m glad you stayed. Topher’s never competed before. We’re all scared. We’ve given enough to the ocean. We deserve to keep Topher.”
“And we will,” Reed says. He slides in next to me on the tailgate. “Prayer circle in ten. We’re waiting for Theo to get down here from Colby’s competition.”
Ten minutes later, we’re lingering around the lifeguard stand as Theo and his girlfriend approach us. He’s still wearing his red lifeguarding shirt with a whistle dangling from his neck. Vin walks back up to where we are with Topher, who is decked out in his wetsuit like a real surfer. He looks so serious. He looks like his brother. And although I haven’t been introduced to the man with them, I know he’s Joe McAllister.
We look like a pack of tropical Skittles in our brightly colored Drenaline Surf competition shirts. Joe and I are the only ones who chose lime green, and it makes me smile. Shark’s dad has style.
“Alright, if you guys will, let’s all join hands,” Kale says.
It surprises me that he’s the one leading the prayer circle. He’s even more “life of the party” than A.J. and Topher combined. If there’s any one person in California who is all about partying, fun, and absolute nonsense, it’s Kale.
But I still do as he says and lock hands with A.J. on my right and Reed on my left. Across the circle, Topher is between Joe and Vin, like he’s absorbing good vibes and protection on both sides. I bow my head upon Kale’s signal, close my eyes, and listen.
“Today, we call upon Kanaloa and ask him to protect one of our own,” Kale begins. “Please be with Topher today as he surfs in your waters. Guide him carefully through your waves, allowing him to catch the best and dodge the worst. Please call upon the spirit of our fallen friend Shark McAllister to swim beneath his board and keep him safe. Let him ride in a way that makes you proud. Amen.”
We all echo with ‘amen’ and watch Topher head back down to the competitor zone with Vin and Joe.
“Who did we just pray to?” I whisper to A.J.
“Kanaloa – the Hawaiian god of the deep sea,” he says. “Kale wasn’t really into the Hawaiian culture until he moved here, mainly because everyone was into it there and he’s the only one here. He likes to stand out.”
That’s obvious. Kale has never blended into the background in any instance I’ve seen him. I follow A.J. back to Topher’s tailgate and watch the first two surfers take off in the first heat. From what Vin has said, Topher is light years ahead of the other riders competing today. There is no real prize – just the glory of having the best score. But this is Topher’s first taste of a real competition. He swears someday he’ll surf for Drenaline, even if Vin refuses to sign him any time soon.
“I think I’m more nervous than he is,” Vin says as he sits on the tailgate on my other side.
A.J. leans forward. “He’ll be okay. He’s going to be the best out there.”
I glance up at the current heat – two guys who look even younger than Topher – and one is pummeled by a wave. His board flops over the water, and I hold my breath until I see him come back up. I’m tempted to send some prayers up to Kanaloa myself.
“Haley!” Linzi rounds the side of Topher’s truck. “I swear, every time I spot you, it’s like you disappear before I can get over to actually talk to you.”
That was sort of the plan. I’ve been able to avoid her this long, to avoid the Colby Taylor conversation that’s inevitable, but I can’t really run away now.
“You missed it,” she stresses. “You missed seeing Colby Taylor surf. The west coast surfer. The reason we drove across the country.”
Vin wraps his arm around my shoulder. “She had better things to do.”
Linzi’s jaw drops and her forehead wrinkles. “Better than watching him surf? Seriously? There’s nothing better to do in Crescent Cove than watch a local celebrity do what he does best.”
Actually, I could think of plenty of things. Jet skiing with A.J. Hiding in The House of Mirrors with Reed. Watching Alston and Dexter fight over that hot pink Frisbee. Walking the shores of Horn Island with Miles as he kicks a Dr. Pepper can. Hearing Jace’s band perform. Eating cereal with Topher even when he’s hyped up on sugar cubes at seven o’clock in the morning. Kissing Vin Brooks. Oh, that list just goes on and on.
“She was with me,” Vin says. He tightens his arm around me. “You and Alston aren’t the only ones trying to get your last minute thrills in.”
My face burns the color of a flaming red Horn Island sunset. If A.J. had said it, I’d have elbowed him with all my might and buried my face. But Vin? God, I can’t even begin to believe he said it in the first place. I guess the secret’s out – even though the whole ‘last minute thrills’ was a total exaggeration. Linzi stands in front of us, eyes widened, speechless. Vin’s little remark might’ve been worth it for that kind of response.
“A.J., save our seats,” Vin says. He grabs my hand. “C’mon, I want you to meet someone before Topher goes in.”
He walks us directly in between Linzi and Alston, as if he’s making some sort of statement, and leads us over to the competitors’ section. Topher waves a shaka at me, but I know that’s not who we’re here to see. Joe meets us halfway under the tent. He’s a lot shorter than I’d thought. I also expected him to look more sad, more tired, but his eyes dance with a light in them just like Topher’s.
“I was starting to wonder if you were ever going to introduce us,” Joe says to Vin. He reaches out to shake my hand. “Joe McAllister.”
“Haley Sullivan,” I reply, although I have this gut feeling that he knows exactly who I am just as I know who he is.
“I’ve heard your name quite a bit here lately,” Joe says.
He smiles at Vin, and if it wasn’t for the fact that my face is no longer flushed from Vin’s earlier remark, I’d glance up at him too. Luckily Joe turns the conversation to the competition and how Shark would be so proud of Topher competing today. He stays with the competitors, in the middle of the action, and we return to
the tailgate with A.J. just before Topher’s heat begins.
Miles grabs Topher on his way toward the shoreline and says something directly into his ear, making sure no one else hears him. Topher nods and laughs, signals the shaka to the other Hooligans, and with the blast of the air horn, he dashes into the water.
Two minutes into the heat, Topher is sitting pretty in the ocean, but he’s yet to take a wave. The guy competing against him took the first wave that rolled in and wiped out shortly after. He’s paddling back out now. I pray that Topher catches one before this guy has a chance to redeem himself.
Topher flattens himself onto his board and paddles farther out. Vin grips the edges of the tailgate with a death hold, and I almost want to check his pulse to make sure he’s still breathing.
“This is it!” Miles yells out. He hasn’t sat down since the heat began.
Kale jumps up to his feet, with Jace and Theo inches behind him. “Paddle harder, Brooks! Paddle hard!” he screams out, although Topher can’t hear him.
“Get up! Get up! Get the fuck up, Topher!” Miles yells. He must’ve seen the competition official in his peripherals because he throws his arms out in apology. “Sorry dude!”
But it makes Vin crack a smile and that earns Miles a few more points in my book. All eyes are back on Topher, who has popped up and is riding the wave flawlessly into shore. He paddles back out for the next wave, but Kale announces ever-so-loudly that he knows Topher’s moving on to the next round with that wave, especially when his competitor sucks.
An hour of California sunshine later, Vin turns his back on the ocean because he can’t bring himself to watch the final heat. We’ve abandoned the tailgate to stand with the Hooligans. I soak up every bit of warmth from this moment because I don’t know what next summer holds, and I don’t know if all of us will ever be together in a single moment again. I know Linzi won’t be back here with me, attached to Alston’s hip, and I don’t know where the world will take Miles if he wins the sponsorship. Kale could go back to Hawaii. A.J. could get thrown in county for something dumb. Or the ocean could take someone away.
I shake that last thought out of my mind as Topher paddles out. The waves crash around him and over him, sloshing him back and forth, but he keeps going, fighting harder each time to reach the big set that’s rolling in.
“He’s going to take it,” Jace says, craning his neck to see that far out.
“It’s fucking beautiful,” Miles says in an almost whisper.
He’s right. Everything about that wave is beautiful, and I’m not even looking at it from a surfer’s viewpoint. It’s a glaze of all shades of blue, and it feels so right for Topher to be the one about to ride it. The whitecaps stretch out behind him, hovering and waiting to make sure he’s safely onboard. The sun glints off the water creating a glow of ocean and sky with Topher Brooks right in the center of it all. There’s nothing amateur about the way he rides.
The waiting period for the judges to tally the scores feels like hours rather than minutes. Topher paces the sand in this stressed out kind of frenzy, a habit he’s inherited from his brother. Vin hasn’t said a word either, but I know he’s hoping that Topher has the highest numbers – just because it means that much to Topher.
I latch onto A.J.’s arm to brace myself once the announcer asks everyone to gather around for scores. Aside from the competitors and their supporters, the amateur section is pretty dead. Even this emptiness makes me happy, just seeing who all really cares about their amateur surfers. Of course there’s one Hooligan who didn’t bother to show. But as far as I’m concerned, he’s not one of them – and Kale is.
As third best ride and then second best is announced, my heart races and I hear it pounding even with the roaring ocean behind me. A.J. squeezes my hand, and I hold my breath.
“And with an average score of 8.5, today’s best ride – and winner of the amateur division title – is Topher Brooks!”
A.J. wraps me up in an anaconda-grip kind of hug, and although I’d give anything to see the look on Vin’s face upon hearing Topher’s name, I don’t fight my best friend. Instead, I squeeze him back, breathe in the smell of cigarette smoke from his shirt, and savor every single second of this moment.
Miles screams out, “Hell yes!” too many times to count, and Reed announces, “Celebration at my place!” I glance around to see where Vin is, and I spot him easily. He’s wrapped up in a moment with the kid who’s drinking Ocean Blast Energy like it’s a gift from Kanaloa. I wish Shark was here to capture it.
