Young Love

by Alyson Santos

  “What about you?” Jace asks me when Aiden finally stops for air. “What’s on your wish list for today?”

  To ogle you half-naked on a beach. “I’m just looking forward to relaxing in the sun and reading.”

  “You’re not going in the water?”

  “She doesn’t like the water,” Aiden chimes in from the back.

  “Really,” Jace says, skeptical. “We’ll see.”

  “It’s a long story. I love the beach, but I don’t go in the water. I’m perfectly happy to sit and watch.”

  “Uh-huh.” There’s nothing I like about that mischievous look on his face.

  Jace parks the truck and we start emptying our gear from the back. Today we need two of everything, in addition to an armload of extra supplies like sports equipment. Are we going to the beach or opening a summer camp?

  I’m happy with my book and towel, laying it out nicely as the boys run off toward the surf. I’ve heard that uninhibited laugh before, but it’s breathtaking coming from my boyfriend. My own grin is bursting from my face as I adjust my cover-up and settle in for the day. Plenty of sunscreen, check. Good book, check. Water bottles and snacks, check and check. I won’t have to move for hours. Except two seconds in, I’m not sure why I bothered with the book. Thanks to my sunglasses, I don’t even have to squint to watch perfection play out fifty yards away. Sure Jace’s body is flawless as he tosses a football to his brother on the hard-packed wet sand, but it’s the carefree joy on his face that has me mesmerized. I’ve never seen him like this. The shield that so defines everything he does is down, revealing the stunning soul beneath. Here you go, universe. Enjoy your glimpse of what he could be. What he should be. What I want for him with every fiber of my being. It’s a physical ache from the passion of craving everything good and beautiful for that man.

  “Hey! Sienna, right?”

  I look over and smile at the familiar faces. “Yes. Lena?”

  She nods. “And Carleigh.” She gently tugs the little girl’s braids.

  “Is that Aiden down there?” Carleigh asks.

  “Yep, he’s throwing a ball with his brother.”

  “Oh, the one you were telling me about?” Lena sets up beside me while Carleigh takes off toward the fun.

  “Yes. That’s Jace.” I smile, not even remotely hesitant to add, “my boyfriend.”

  “Wow. He’s cute,” she says, eyeing him in approval.

  “Yes he is.”

  “Would he mind if Carleigh joins them?”

  I almost laugh at the question. “Absolutely not. He’s amazing with kids.” Sure enough, she’s already giggling along with the boys.

  “Carleigh hasn’t stopped talking about Aiden since the last time we saw you here. Sorry if this is forward, but would you be interested in exchanging numbers for a play date or something?”

  Playdates? There’s a question I never thought I’d have to consider. “Um, sure. I mean, I’d have to clear anything with Jace and their mother, of course, but I’d be happy to coordinate.”

  “Absolutely! That’s fantastic, thank you. What’s your number?”

  I spell it out, and she punches the digits into her phone. Mine buzzes a second later, and I add her name to the message. My first ever Mom Friend.

  A surprise flutter runs through me. Hope and what-ifs that were never allowed into my narrative. Having been born without a uterus I’d grown up learning to fantasize about a different future than the other girls. Children weren’t a rite of passage or milestone in my timeline, not when my own mother raised me with a sense of pity for my “deformity.” I grew up experiencing loss even before I understood what that meant, and Joe didn’t exactly help dispel the lie that I wasn’t a whole woman.

  Until now.

  Playdate?

  I breathe in salty air as I watch Jace and the children. Another prison wall crashes down, another lie exposed. What if Mom was wrong? Joe? What if I was wrong? What if the ultimate can’t is as much of a lie as everything else? My heart races at the answer. Hope because I’ve seen what’s possible when someone doesn’t believe in can’t. When you dream. When you fight and don’t hold back. I’m looking at the impossible as he laughs and chases a life of color I never imagined before he became the sunshine in mine.

  What do you want, Sienna? What do you want?

  My Believer starts up the sand toward me, a small parade of children trailing behind.

  “We’re going in!” Aiden announces as they approach.

  “Me too, Mommy!” Carleigh says, already stretching her arms for the life jacket. “Come with me?”

  Lena straps her in and looks to me. “You coming too?”

  “Yes,” Jace says at the same time I say “no.” We exchange a look, and Lena laughs.

  “Well, I’ll leave you two alone to work that out. Mind if I take Aiden with us?”

  Jace nods. “I’m Jace Beckett, by the way.” He holds out his hand.

  She takes it. “Lena Saunders. Nice to meet you. Thanks for letting Carleigh play with you.”

  “You kidding? She’s great. Girl’s got a crazy good arm too.”

  Lena beams and leaves after the kids. Jace drops beside me.

  “Okay, spill it,” he says.

  “Spill what?”

  He squints at me, the sun glistening off the sweat on his skin. “Explain why it’s disgustingly hot and we’re going to sit here dying of heatstroke when there’s a perfectly good ocean to cool off in.”

  I shrug. “I’m not stopping you. In fact, I’ve fantasized about watching you dive through waves all soaking wet.”

  He thinks I’m joking.

  “Not good enough,” he says.

  I cross my arms and settle in further. “I just don’t like the water.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s dangerous, for one.”

  “Dangerous?”

  “Jelly fish, sharks, broken shells.”

  He gives me a look. “Sharks? You’re one of the smartest people I know. Not buying it.”

  I sigh, my pulse already climbing at the direction of this conversation. Because waves drag you under and hold you there and pull you back out to sea and scrape you against the abrasive ocean floor and that’s God’s way of telling you you’re not designed to swim.

  The humor has faded from his face when I look over again. He pulls the sunglasses from my eyes.

  “You’re shaking,” he says softly, taking my hand. He smooths my fingers and clasps my palm in both of his. “You’re really scared, huh?”

  “I just don’t like the ocean,” I whisper, finally looking at him.

  He nods and stares back at the water. “What if we just stand in the surf?”

  My breath comes hard. “I don’t think I can.”

  “Please? For me?”

  “You know I would if I could.”

  “I swear to you, Sienna. I won’t let go.”

  His eyes, so beautiful and tender, sparkling in the sun. What if?

  “Just the surf.”

  He smiles and pulls me to my feet. My legs tremble on the walk across the sand. I’m already regretting this, clinging to his hand and not understanding why something so minor is so important to him. So what if I don’t like the ocean? What’s it to him? His determined march to the water gives me no hope he’ll back down.

  My pace slows the closer we get and soon he’s several steps ahead, pulling me along by the hand as I pull back just as strongly.

  “I changed my mind,” I say, yanking myself away. I should have known his reflexes were quick, and he catches me before I gain any ground. And there we stand, two lovers sharing a moment of terror instead of romance. He pulls me into his arms, and I breathe him in as he rocks me.

  “You can do this,” he says against my hair.

  “I can’t, Jace. You don’t understand. When I was six I went out, and this wave came and…”

  “It’s okay. Just take a deep breath.”

  We rock again. In. Out. One. Two. Three.


  “I’m sorry. I know this is important to you,” I say, closing my eyes again.

  “You’re important to me.”

  Tears stab behind my eyes. We rock. In. Out. One. Two. Three.

  “I thought I was going to die. No one was there, Jace. No one pulled me out.” The tears break through, slip down my cheeks. “And Mom said it was my own fault. I just can’t. I just—”

  “Hey, look at me.” I open my eyes and focus on his. My breathing calms, my heartrate slows. “You can,” he says gently, and I gasp.

  Looking down, I watch a thin veil of ocean water brush over my toes. Then another. We’re still moving, rocking. One. Two. Three. The water hits my ankles, sending a cool shiver up my legs. Maybe it tickles, and a smile starts somewhere in me. Still Jace hasn’t let go. Another step.

  Lena and the children are laughing in the distance. Others on the beach enjoy their lazy Friday afternoon, not knowing the significance of what’s happening right in front of them. The water hits my calves.

  I finally allow myself to look away from Jace and out over the ocean. Gray-blue ripples stretch as far as I can see. It’s terrifying in its immensity. I imagine it’s like looking out into space and understanding how insignificant you are and how easy it would be to get sucked into oblivion. Jace pulls me tighter, probably sensing my fear, but when I look up his face reveals something completely different.

  “It’s so beautiful,” he says, scanning the same horizon. “So vast and yet on the other side of this ocean there’s a line of people looking back at us, thinking the same thing we are. How incredible is that?”

  I adjust for a better view, wanting to see his world. He tucks his arm around my shoulders as I lean into him, wrapping mine around his waist.

  “I want to be you when I grow up. You’re so free,” I mumble into the steady breeze.

  He laughs and squeezes my shoulders. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.”

  Five minutes in, I wish I’d listened to him. Our fairytale trip to the beach yesterday feels like a lifetime ago and that gentle man who led me to the water’s edge is nowhere in sight. To be fair, Jace warned me not to come. Told me he doesn’t even want Aiden here for this. But no, I insisted on playing the supportive girlfriend, and now I’m stuck, stunned, and about ready to borrow that puke bucket they set out for the athletes. Watching Jace test for his 3rd Degree Black Belt makes me wonder why I thought for even a second I could do something like this. It also explains him in a whole new way.

  The day didn’t start off so badly. To begin, the students lined up facing a table of official-looking martial arts experts, while a handful of Sempais on the side barked out orders the students followed. Inside crescent kick. Hook punch. Back fist.

  “That’s Shihan, the senseis, and deshis. They’re the ones judging,” the woman next to me had whispered with a sympathetic smile.

  “Is it that obvious it’s my first time?”

  She shrugged and leaned closer. “Which is yours?”

  “That’s my boyfriend, on the end.”

  “Oh wow. The senior student testing for his 3rd Degree?” Her voice was a mixture of awe and pity that didn’t sit well with me.

  “Why do you say it like that?”

  She bit her lip. “You’ll see. That’s mine,” she said, pointing to a young teen in the back row. “Chris is testing for black. My daughter earned hers two years ago.”

  “So you’ve been through this.”

  She nodded. “Yeah. And it’s just… Never mind.”

  Had Jace planted her to get me to leave right from the beginning?

  The moves went on and on, then forms, weapons forms, and self-defense my interpreter explained. The students would demonstrate each move together until they reached the limit for their rank, then watch as the remaining higher ranked students kept going with more advanced skills. As the only 3rd Degree Black Belt candidate testing today, this also meant Jace was the last man standing for every category, continuing on his own as the others watched.

  By the time he completes the last section, I’m exhausted for him.

  “Whew, this is intense,” I whisper to my new friend Elle.

  There’s nothing reassuring about her patient smile. “It’s a long, difficult day for sure.”

  I glance at my watch. “How much longer? They have to be almost finished, right?”

  She shakes her head. Again with the pity. “I’m sorry to tell you this, but they haven’t started the hard part yet.”

  “Wait, what?”

  She shrugs. “That was just the basics and techniques. Now the real test begins.”

  Crap.

  They’ve been calling students throughout the day to give speeches, and my attention locks back on Jace when his turn comes up. He’s asked to explain how being a Black Belt has enhanced his life, and if he’s nervous, you’d never know as he faces the panel of his superiors.

  “Earning my black belt isn’t an accomplishment for me,” he begins with a thoughtful, direct tone. “It’s a tangible representation of what it means to push through pain, challenges, and setbacks. A symbol of sacrifice that I wear to remind me that some things are worth the fight, and when you find them, you don’t let go no matter the cost.

  “It’s about throwing yourself into what matters with abandon and never holding back the pursuit. It’s not being afraid to get hurt, to fail, to push through, because anything that’s important requires risk and pain. I wear this belt because no matter how bad things get, I have the power to control my character, my integrity, my perspective, and my perseverance.

  “Getting knocked down is not the end but the beginning of a new fight. I am never powerless, I am never weak, and I am never defenseless because no one can live my life as well as I can, and no one can force me to quit. There are no winners or losers because there is no end to the battle. There’s always more, always a chance to get back up and go on. This belt has shown me what I am, what I’m capable of, and what I still have yet to learn.”

  Silence.

  Awe.

  We all sense we’re about to witness something incredible, and I clasp my hands in my lap. Does that panel have any idea what they just heard? How devastating those words truly are? I thought I knew him before. But here, now, is the missing piece of the puzzle that changes the entire image. I get it, everything, in a way I never could before this moment—everything he is, wants to be, could be, and everything I want for him and my own life. Could I wear that symbol one day? Could I embrace the risk, the pain, to find something greater than what I’ve settled for up until now? I never would have thought so before today. I never even thought to look past my black and white world, into the gray and beyond. But now that I’ve glimpsed the color that waits, can I afford not to?

  Next is board breaking, a crowd favorite it seems. We applaud the students snapping wooden panels with hands, feet, and joints. We pay silent respect for those who don’t break anything after the third attempt and quietly leave knowing they’ll have to return again another day. It’s a sight to see, a human, some still children, shoving their hands through a board without a flinch. I’m looking forward to seeing what Jace can do when it’s his turn.

  My new friend is still ecstatic her son passed his test and leans toward me while they set up for Jace. “You ready?”

  “Absolutely. So he has to break one of those?”

  “One? No. He’ll have to do four breaks he’s never done before. For 3rd degree this will be intense. See there?”

  “The paver stone?”

  She nods. “Yeah, they call it a cinder block. An inch and a half of crushed stone.”

  “What’s it for?”

  “Your boyfriend has to break it.”

  I blink and stare at her. “With his hand?”

  She shrugs. “We’ll see. Depends what kind of break he wants to do. Hand, foot, he has to demonstrate two of each in four different kinds of breaks.”

  The room is silent as Jace prepares for his break. Me, I�
��m not even breathing. He focuses, takes his stance, focuses again, and with a shout, crashes through the stone with… his elbow?

  Oh my god.

  The room erupts, and I check the table to see the instructors beaming. They want him to succeed as much as I do. Next up, Jace takes a board and focuses on it in his hands.

  “Oh wow,” the woman whispers.

  “Why is he just holding it?”

  “He’s going for a speed break.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Watch.”

  Jace sets and suddenly tosses the board in the air. He levels a solid strike, but it lands several feet away, still intact. A hush falls over the crowd, and now I’m pretty sure everyone’s joined me in holding our breaths. He’s stoic as he draws in a deep inhale and sets again. Focus, toss, and the audience erupts as splinters of wood sprinkle the mat beside two broken halves.

  Holy. Shit.

  I just watched my boyfriend do the impossible. No wonder he hates the word can’t.

  Two “breaks” later, he’s done it. The entire room has adopted him as their champion, cheering his success like he just won them a team pennant.

  “Wow, that was amazing,” I say, still in disbelief as they clear the mat.

  “It really is. It’s incredible what they can do. Your boyfriend did great.”

  I nod, proud, and ready to tackle him in a dark alley for entirely different purposes.

  “So that’s it? They’re finished?” There’s that look again. Shit. “There can’t be more, can there?”

  She ducks her shoulders, almost sheepish. “Well, yeah. I mean, they still have to do the sparring portion.”

  “Sparring?”

  She nods. “Multiple rounds of fighting a fresh opponent. For yours, he’ll have to do even more than the others.”

  I still don’t quite understand but I’m afraid to ask this time. I’ll just have to brace myself. If Jace can participate in it, surely I can handle watching. I don’t like how the woman looks nervous, though. I especially don’t like the fact that several spectators vacate their posts and disappear from the room.

  “Where are they going?” I ask Elle.

  She glances at the door, looking prepared to follow them. “They don’t want to watch this part.”