by A. M. Rose
As soon as we hit the sand, I take my flip-flops off and dig my toes in. Warmth crawls up my legs and settles in my chest. Ahh. Okay, maybe this isn’t so bad. I might not know how to surf, but I’m sure as hell gonna try. No one exactly forced me out here—I decided to come. And who knows, maybe it won’t be so bad. I take a long breath, let the salt air settle in my chest, and push it back out. Embrace life, right, Dad? He would’ve wanted me to try. Probably would’ve laughed his ass off at me, too, but what the hell do I care? I reach in my bag and grab my camera, snapping pictures as we go.
We find a spot a little away from the crowds. And while Maddox and his new friends check out their surfboards, I peel off my clothes, drop them in the sand, and start rubbing in the sunblock. I’m not the perfect shade of pasty white for nothing. And I’m not about to hear another lecture from Mom about skin cancer.
“Here, let me help you with that.” Maddox stands beside me with his hand extended.
I eye the bottle and then his hand. He’s just trying to help, so I pass the sunblock to him. He takes it and walks around behind me. My body flinches away, not from the cold lotion but from the sensation his hands on my skin brings. Please don’t let him feel me tremble.
He makes his way from my shoulders down to the small of my back. His touch is warm and nice as he kneads the lotion into my skin. No one has ever done it like this before; he’s gentle and takes his time. When he finishes I want him to start all over again.
I turn toward him so we’re face-to-face. Nose to nose. Or more like chin to nose, since he’s a little taller. Not that I’m complaining. For a moment we just stand there, staring at each other. He lets out a breath. It smells like peppermint.
I take the bottle back from him, but other than that I don’t move. “Thanks.”
Sapphire eyes burn through me, and that sensation I felt back in the classroom somehow grows stronger, almost willing me closer to him. But I stay grounded, even dig my feet a little deeper in the sand.
“Come on. Let’s go,” one of the guys calls to us from near the water.
Maddox grins before he jogs down toward them. Adrenaline races through me. It’s just the anxiety of going surfing, that’s all, nothing to get worked up about. I tuck my camera back in my bag and take a moment before I can walk down the sand. A gust of wind pushes me from behind. Okay, Dad. I get the point. I’m going.
My toes hit the water first. It’s a helluva lot colder than the air, and the goose bumps pop up in no time.
Maddox is already waist deep. “Come on! What are you waiting for?”
I told myself I was going to try, so I force myself in. As soon as it’s deep enough, I dive in headfirst and swim up to Maddox, who’s with the two surfer guys, James and Connor. James is the one with the dreads, and Connor is the bald one. At least I’m pretty sure that’s the way it goes.
Connor jumps up and straddles his board. He motions for me to come and join him and stretches his hand out toward me. Here goes nothing. I paddle to him and hop up on the board the same way he did. That wasn’t so bad. This isn’t at all as hard as I’d thought. Now I know why Maddox wanted to jump right in instead of the guys teaching us some things on the beach.
Except that Maddox is having a little more trouble. He tries to heave himself up, and the board flips over, dropping James into the water.
“Dude,” James grumbles once he resurfaces. “More finesse less enthusiasm next time.”
I suppress a laugh, but Connor is in a fit, slapping his knee and pointing. After a few minutes, Maddox has got a better handle on it and straddles the board while James swims beside him.
Connor and I bob up and down on his board, and he explains the different parts of the wave and how to watch for the break. His explanation will make painting them from my photographs so much easier, but I’m not sure I fully understand.
“See that dude, there.” Connor points. “That kook has the wrong board. It’s way too small for him. Watch. He’s gonna have to bail.”
“What’s a kook?” I ask.
Connor laughs, showing off a small chip in his front tooth. “It’s a newbie. A beginner. Someone who’s got no clue what they’re doing. But don’t worry. You’re safe with me.” Even though I know him about as well as I know Maddox, I do feel safe on the board with him. We haven’t even almost tipped once since we’ve been out here.
The wave gets to the guy before it reaches us. He jumps to his feet for half a second before he hops off his board. Maybe this isn’t as easy as Connor made it sound. I’m not sure what’s worse, the idea of drowning or making a complete fool of myself. Even though my mind and body have started talking, it doesn’t mean I’m fooled into thinking that they always get along. But getting up on the board was simple, and sitting here is easy, too.
“So do we—”
“This one has our name on it,” Connor calls out. “You ready?”
No. “Okay…”
He paddles us out to catch it. I guess this means it’s now or never. I swallow the lump in my throat. As I paddle with him, something flashes in front of my eyes. Pictures and videos of surfers, ocean charts, and wave patterns race through my mind in milliseconds. I don’t have time to think about it.
We hit the wave as it breaks, and it propels us toward the beach. I don’t even wait for Connor to tell me to stand; we both do at the exact same time. Like a pair of trained dancers, we’re in pure synchronization, turning and bending in the same moments. We glide all the way up to the shore, and then we both hop off.
“Righteous! That was friggin’ awesome! You had me going. I really thought you were a newb. Nice bait and switch.” He throws his head back then swipes the water off with his hand. “You’re a total Betty!”
We high five. I can hardly believe it either. Beginner’s luck maybe. But instead of trying to analyze it, I shrug. Because he’s right. That was friggin’ awesome. “Can we do it again?”
“Right on.” He grabs the board and we run back into the ocean.
Connor and I catch a dozen or more waves, each time paddling out a little farther and riding a little longer. The wind kisses each inch of me as I balance on the board. I don’t even notice how cold the water is anymore. All I feel is warm blood and freedom pumping through my veins.
For once, I’m not thinking about anything but this moment. The air filling my lungs. The water splashing in my face. I close my eyes, and it’s just the sun, the ocean, and me. If there wasn’t this pesky thing called gravity, I’m sure I could float away. Far up and reach Dad.
I snap my eyes open as my heart surges. I almost fumble, but I catch myself, trying to calm down, wanting that total peace again. But my teeth are chattering like crazy now.
Connor nods his chin. “What d’you say to heading back to the shore, Little Betty?”
I nod. My chest is a little heavier. Heading in is a good idea. I shouldn’t be having so much fun anyway; I’ve already missed so much school, and Mom would be so disappointed.
Connor wraps a towel around my shoulders, and we sit on his board to dry off. He points to James and Maddox. I had completely forgotten they were still out there. At some point, they must’ve grabbed another board, and now they both bob out in the ocean. I zoom in and snap some pictures, but this really isn’t the right lens.
Maddox paddles toward an approaching wave, catching it just in time, and stands on his board. He wobbles a little and then straightens out. I smile. I’m glad we got to do this. Closer and closer he inches toward the shore, and then his eyes meet mine, a smile of his own spreading across his face. He must be having fun, too. He hops off at the last minute without turning from me. But I avert my gaze as he reaches down and grabs his board, carrying it under one arm, and runs up onto the beach to where we sit.
Connor is the first to greet him. “Right on, bro. You did awesome! That curl was amazing. A little drag at the beginning but you finished strong.”
They grab hands mid-high five and bump arms against each other. Maddox drips
with salt water. His swim trunks hang low on his hips, showing the V-shape of his pelvic bone. Something inside my chest flutters. Holy hell, he’s gorgeous. Jesus, Drea, don’t stare. After he drops his board into the sand, he runs his fingers through his hair, shaking the water out. James comes up right behind him as they exchange another round of high fives.
“That was sick! I was riding with a total Betty out there.” Connor sounds overly excited.
All three boys stare down at me. I curl my toes in the sand, wishing I could dig a hole and crawl inside, but since I have nowhere to hide I respond, “Oh yeah.” I shrug my shoulder. “I guess I did okay.”
“She’s being totally modest. You rocked that shit out!” Connor comes up and gives me a high five.
Maddox’s eyes hold mine, and he smiles. It isn’t the shy smile he gave me before. This one’s a little bigger, a little mischievous.
“James. We’re seriously the best teachers. That was epic,” Connor says.
“We started out pretty rough. Remember on our third run when you wiped out?” James punches Maddox in the arm and laughs. “But, dude, you finished strong.”
Maddox’s face turns bright red. He seems hesitant to laugh back, but he does it anyway. Boys are so weird.
With the attention finally away from me, I sit back and listen to them talk about the waves and how their day of surfing went. At some point we mutter our goodbyes, thanking James and Connor before they head down the beach.
I sit on my towel, my thoughts drawn out toward the horizon where a little girl and her dad are building a castle in the sand. It’s a great shot. But I keep my camera tucked away.
The little girl falls back into a fit of giggles when the dad scoops sand into a bucket and tips it over. Watching them makes me wonder if Dad ever cut school to go surfing when he was my age? I never asked him. Actually, there are lots of questions I never asked him, and now I’ll never have the chance.
The little girl and her father are digging a big hole now, maybe to China. I twirl my ring around my finger. Dad used to help me build sandcastles in our favorite park, all of them ridiculously overambitious affairs.
She is chattering a mile a minute, and the man is nodding solemnly like everything she says about how to dig a hole is the most important, most fascinating information in the world. His expression is so familiar that in an instant the grief I’d held at bay, even forgotten today, looms suddenly over me, heavy and crushing.
I miss him. I miss him terribly. Part of me wants to be sad, to let my grief swallow me. Pull me deep into the darkroom where it can tear away at every last piece of me. The tears build. Fill my eyes. But I blink them away. Push all the sadness out. Or at least try to. Thinking like that hasn’t done me any good.
The little girl jumps up and down, excited about something. The man laughs, and his laughter is nothing like Dad’s. Dad’s was soft, a little self-conscious even. Not a howl. I’m not sure why, maybe because of the laugh-that-isn’t-Dad’s, but the sight of them doesn’t hurt anymore.
And today. Today has been incredible. Maybe it was a gift from Dad. We had days like the one they’re sharing. Lots of them. If Maddox pulled up even a minute later, I’d already have been back in the school. I glance up. Maddox is watching me, his face thoughtful, maybe a little concerned.
He nudges my foot with his. “What’s wrong?”
So it’s obvious, huh? But I’m not ready to talk about it. About him. “My mom’s gonna kill me when she figures out I cut class today.” Even though it’s true, it’s also true that I haven’t thought once about her or about the trouble I’m going to be in today. And I don’t want to start now.
“Maybe she won’t find out.”
I shrug. “Maybe.”
Surfing today has done something nothing else has since the accident. Stirred up my appetite. And the only thing that seems fitting after a day at the beach is one of my all-time favorite meals. “You hungry?”
He grins, reaches his hand out, and pulls me to my feet. “Yeah. I’m starved.”
I grab my towel. “Come on, then. I know just the place.”
Except…the good feeling from surfing is hard to hold on to. I drag my feet along the sidewalk.
Maddox nudges me in the side. “You’re not still stressin’ about your mom are you?”
As much as I said I wasn’t going to let it bother me, I can’t stop it. “Yeah.” She hasn’t texted me or anything, which isn’t weird, just normal Mom behavior. If Dad were here, he would’ve checked in a few times. I guess I just thought that maybe with him gone, Mom and I would grow closer somehow, but that hasn’t happened. And if she finds out about this, I’m in deep shit. Not that today hasn’t been worth it. It has.
Maddox lets out a breath. “I might be able to help.” He pulls out his phone. “I’ve got a friend in the office who can take care of it.” He types away at the screen. “And done.” He tucks the phone back into the waist of his swim trunks.
I press my lips together. “Just like that?”
“Yep.”
I stare at him for a moment, the stiff way he walked in the hall earlier all but gone. His arms hang lazily by his sides, a silly smirk across his face. “You’re making fun of me, aren’t you?”
He head whips toward me. “What? No. Why would I do that?”
I shrug. Why wouldn’t he?
“Trust me. I won’t let you down.”
That’s easy for him to say. He’s been here, what, a day? And already he has a friend in the office. I’ve lived here my whole life and don’t have those kinds of connections. I don’t even get the addresses to the parties Dylan and I go to. He’s always in charge of that.
“I met him when I got my schedule.” Maddox nudges me again, looks over, and smiles. “I promise. It’s cool. Now where are we headed?”
I pull out my phone and stare at the screen. The way he made friends with James and Connor was super easy for him, so I guess it’s possible. And either he didn’t do anything and Mom still doesn’t know, or it worked. I suppose only time will tell, so I put my phone away.
We get to the faux-adobe, two-story building, and before Maddox can say a word I send him upstairs to grab us a seat on the roof. The view from there is the best. As I wait for the food, I check my phone a dozen times. Still no Mom. Maybe she’s in a surgery or caught up with a patient. Otherwise, she would’ve checked in with me by now.
They call my number and I slip the phone away. No use worrying about it with all this to eat. I maneuver my way up the terra cotta stairs past hard beach bodies and tourists looking to get a taste of the local fare. They picked a good spot. A place where shirts and shoes are totally not required. The decor is bright and cheerful, with extra-large paintings of señoritas hung on the walls.
I pass a giant potted palm tree and spot Maddox kicked back at a bench near the glass that encases the top half of the restaurant. His focus is on the beach we just came from. He jumps when I bump the table with my hip and slide the tray in front of him.
He glances from what’s in front of him to me. “You want to eat that?”
I swing my leg over the bench and sit across from him. “Yep. They’re the best.”
He eyes the fish tacos, pokes at them with his finger, and checks out the shredded cabbage. “Now you’re making fun of me, right?”
Har. Har. “Nope. Not at all. They aren’t going to bite. I promise.” I squeeze some lime on my taco, pick it up, and sink my teeth in. For a second, I close my eyes. It’s delicious and hits the spot. Golden fried fish, crunchy cabbage, and this white sauce that tastes like heaven. When I open them again, he’s watching.
“Okay, here goes nothing.” He mimics exactly what I did, squeezing some lime. Except his has a mind of its own and sprays an edge of the tray, not his taco. His cheeks flush to a soft pink as he lifts the taco to his mouth and bites through it. Chew. Chew. His eyes widen and his eyebrows lift up.
I smile. Oh yeah, he’s hooked. “Not so bad…huh?”
He sw
allows before he responds, “This is awesome.”
After that, we both attack our food. Not really saying anything. And for now that’s okay. I listen as a group to our left talks about things to do while they’re in town. One of them mentions the zoo, which makes me think about the giraffe pictures I still need to take. Maybe Maddox would want to check it out sometime. Would that be a weird thing to ask?
When I glance up from finishing my first taco, Maddox is finishing his second. But this time he isn’t looking out at the sun saying its finally goodbye to the sky—a blend of pinks and oranges. He’s looking right at me.
Crap. Do I have fish all over my face? I grab my napkin and wipe everywhere just in case.
He picks up his cup and takes a huge drink, those blue eyes focused on me from over the rim. “I’ve had an awesome time today.” His brows lift, like he’s almost surprised to be saying it, but then raises his cup in a toast.
In a flash, my face is on fire. Wow, that’s embarrassing. And it’s not exactly toasting material, but I grab my cup. “Don’t sound so surprised.” I clink it against his anyway and take a long drink.
“That’s not what I mean.” He runs his finger along the edge of his cup. “Have you ever just expected something to go one way and it doesn’t?”
I fold my arms over my chest. “So you expected this to be a massive failure.”
Not just his cheeks are red this time, but his neck, too. “No. It’s hard to explain. It’s just where I’m from this never would’ve happened. Any of this.” His words come out a little rushed as he waves his hands around.
I’m not sure what he’s trying to say, but something about the soft tone in his voice and the way he can’t sit still makes me think he isn’t trying to be a jerk. More like he’s nervous. But nervous why? Because of me?
He turns his head back toward the beach, leans a little closer to the glass, and then jumps up to his feet, grabbing his phone. “Is that the time? We should go.”
Maybe it’s not me at all. “Oh, okay. Sure.”
He grabs the tray with my second uneaten taco and rushes to the trash. I wasn’t really that hungry anyway.
