by Carrie Arcos
“Well, man,” Sebastian says, “what do you think? Doable?”
I know they want me to tell them that it’s all good, that seeing Grace’s last wishes laid out on a chocolate-smudged napkin is perfectly normal, and that I’m okay with it. But it feels like some vacation itinerary.
I want to say I’ve changed my mind, but I say, “Fine. It’s fine.” I don’t want to disappoint them. I finish my yogurt in one last bite.
“Great!” Hanna pushes her yogurt across the table. “Have mine. I can’t eat it all.”
I take a bite and grimace. “What’s this?” I almost gag.
“You like it?” Hanna asks. Her eyes sparkle mischievously.
“It’s disgusting.” I stand up and get a cup of water to wash away the taste of her strawberry-and-raspberry concoction. Hanna knows I don’t like berries, except for blueberries. I could eat a basketful of blueberries anytime.
“It is not!” she calls after me.
“You did that on purpose.”
She tilts her head and says, “Maybe,” playfully. I sit back down.
“It can’t be that bad,” Sebastian says. He takes a bite. “A little on the sweet side.”
He and Hanna talk dessert, while I finish off my water. It’s weird to have Sebastian and Hanna together, especially here. This was a place the three of us, Hanna, Grace, and I, would go all the time. But we usually sat where the gamers are. Sebastian is probably my best friend, but he can’t replace Grace, not that he’s trying. He’s telling a joke about the alien who doesn’t know he’s an alien, and even though I’ve heard it before, I laugh with Hanna as if it’s the first time.
• • • •
Jenny gets word that we’re going surfing tomorrow morning. I don’t tell her why. I’m not sure what she and Dad would think about Grace’s list. Maybe they’d ask to come with us, but I want to keep it between Hanna, Sebastian, and me. I don’t want it getting out of hand. Jenny gets all excited and rents a movie. She says there’s a scene about learning how to surf that’ll be good for me. I don’t want to watch it alone, so I invite Sebastian and Hanna to come for dinner and a movie. I beg, actually, and they do.
“You’re going to love Point Break. It used to be my favorite back in the day. I can’t believe it’s more than twenty years old already.” Jenny laughs nervously. “I’m so old.”
“Jenny, you are not old,” Hanna says.
“Thank you, Hanna. Ready?” she calls for my dad.
“Coming!” he says, and enters with a bowl of M&M’s that he places alongside the popcorn and bottled waters on the coffee table. He sits next to Jenny on the love seat. Dad indulges Jenny with movie nights, but I know he would prefer hiding away and reading the new crime novel he checked out at the library.
Hanna sits in between Sebastian and me. She scoots toward me to give Sebastian more room.
Hanna whispers, “Jenny’s so cute.”
“No matter what, just tell her you like it,” I whisper back, very aware that our sides are practically glued together. Hanna doesn’t seem to notice. She acts like we always sit like this for Friday night movies at my house. She’s been to plenty of them, but we’ve never sat this close. She stares at the screen. I cross my arms, uncertain of where to place them.
Friday-night movies are kind of a tradition. It started when we were kids. Grace and I used to take turns deciding what movie to see. That was usually fine because we had similar taste. Grace loved action and scary movies, and I didn’t mind an occasional chick flick. She also loved old musicals, especially the ones with Gene Kelly. The last movie we watched together was An American in Paris. She wanted to go to Paris one day. That would’ve probably made another list: Top Five Cities to Visit Before I Die.
Point Break is actually pretty cool. Lots of action and humor, and a sex scene, which was only awkward because my parents were in the room. All of the skydiving makes me wish that had been on Grace’s list. The main chase scene is awesome. Two guys run through alleys and houses, and the camera is all shaky, like we’re there with them. One of them even throws a pit bull as a distraction. I’d never seen that before.
After the credits roll, we discuss the probability of Johnny Utah catching Bodhi in the part when he jumps from the plane without a parachute. In the movie he grabs him while they’re free-falling. Sebastian and I want to know if that could really happen.
“It could happen,” Jenny says, as if she really believes it.
“The guy has only been skydiving once and suddenly he knows how to expertly maneuver himself in the air? Not possible,” Sebastian says, and he starts looking something up on his phone.
“It’s a movie,” my dad says. “None of it’s real. They probably filmed it in a studio with wind machines.” He stands up and stretches before clearing the coffee table.
“Boo,” Jenny says. “You guys have no imagination.”
“You didn’t like the movie, Mr. Santos?” Hanna asks.
“It’s called amore,” he says, and kisses Jenny on the cheek before taking the empty bowl to the kitchen.
“Cute,” Hanna says. Cute except when it’s your own parents. I continue our discussion of the movie.
“Also, how long has he known the girl? Like two weeks? He’s willing to jump out of a plane for her?” I say.
Jenny and Hanna both look at me with wide-eyed shock.
“Of course he is,” Hanna says. “They have a connection.”
“Meaning she has blue eyes and a decent body,” I say about the girl.
“It’s more than just physical. Besides, it’s Keanu Reeves,” Hanna says.
“What does that mean?
“He’s hot.”
“I know, right?” Jenny says, and they laugh.
“Ha!” Sebastian says, his face still in his phone. “Technically you could jump like that, but the timing is off in the film. You can’t free-fall for as long as they did. And they wouldn’t be able to hear each other over the wind. So no talking, either. Told you!” He looks up triumphantly.
I smile, but Jenny and Hanna just stare at Sebastian as if he’s dropped their birthday cake all over the floor.
Jenny points at his phone. “And this is the problem with technology. It kills the illusion.” She sighs. “Well, be careful out there tomorrow,” Jenny says. “You’ve seen how those surfers can get.”
“Jenny, it’s just a movie. We’re going with Charlie. He knows the scene,” I say, but I don’t want to be rude, so I add, “But thank you. I feel like I could probably surf right now.”
“Yeah. We could probably do a mean pop-up.” To show her, Sebastian jumps up from the couch into the surfer’s stance.
“No, Sebastian, it’s more like this.” I demonstrate the move from the floor, wobbling back and forth as if I’m on a board.
“All right. All right. I get it. Good night, guys. Make sure you lock up, Mark.” She heads upstairs.
“Are we seriously going surfing tomorrow?” Hanna asks. “I don’t think I can do it.”
“We probably won’t get up on the board, but yes,” Sebastian says. “Where are you putting me tonight?” Sebastian is staying over so we can all drive together.
“My room. Floor.”
“I’m going to go,” Hanna says, and pushes up off the couch. “If Charlie’s serious about when we’re meeting, I need my sleep.”
“When it comes to surfing, Charlie’s serious,” Sebastian says.
I walk Hanna to the door.
“Bye, Sebastian,” she says, and waves.
“Later.”
Hanna pauses at the door. “You really don’t think someone would jump out of a plane to save a girl?”
I shrug. “Call me a realist.”
“Even if he loved her?”
“That kind of love takes years,” I say. “It doesn’t happen in a couple hours.”
She smiles like I’ve said the right thing.
“See you later,” she says.
“I’ll send you a wake-up text at five
thirty.”
She groans as the screen door closes behind her. I watch her walk down the steps, across the street, and open her front door before I close mine.
Sebastian gives me a look.
“What?”
“Nothing,” he says, but he smirks.
“We’re just friends.”
“Sure, whatever you say. She didn’t scootch up next to me on that couch.”
“Hanna’s practically another sister.” I start climbing the stairs.
Sebastian makes a tinny noise and I look at him. He’s rubbing two fingers together on his right hand. “My tiny violin’s playing sad music for you.”
“Shut up.” I turn on the light in my room.
“Maybe I’ll take a crack at her, then.”
I throw a pillow at his head and that shuts him up. Sebastian could ask Hanna out, I guess. It’s not like she’s seeing anyone, at least I don’t think she is. But the idea of Hanna dating someone, even Sebastian, doesn’t sit well with me.
I think of the way we sat together on the couch, our bodies pressed together as if it were normal. I let my mind linger and imagine if I had wrapped my arm around her, pulling her closer. But I stop myself. I wonder what Hanna thinks.
All night I toss and turn. I dream I’m skydiving. Hanna is free-falling with me. We’re holding hands and she’s smiling. Her hair’s all wild and I can’t see her eyes well through the bug-like goggles she’s wearing. She shouts something, but I can’t hear her.
“What?” I yell.
“Are you ready?” she asks.
“For what?”
She laughs and lets go of my hands. I try to grab hold of her, but she pulls on her chute. It pops open, and she rips away from me. I go to pull mine, but I can’t get my parachute to open. I tug frantically on the string, but it won’t work. The ground is coming faster and faster. I hear Hanna calling my name just as I’m about to hit the pavement, and I wake up.
My heart is racing. From the sleeping bag, Sebastian snores. I try to go back to sleep, but I can’t. I keep seeing Hanna’s body floating farther and farther away from me, even with my eyes wide open.
Thirteen
Early next morning we’re at El Porto just outside of Manhattan Beach. The oil refinery’s stacks blow gray smoke, adding to the already cloudy sky. It doesn’t seem like the perfect day for surfing, but a handful of surfers are already in the water, out past the break. The volleyball nets are empty. A lifeguard wearing an orange Windbreaker sits perched on top of his tower.
Charlie runs out of the ocean, board at his side. He places it on the sand and shakes his head back and forth, whipping the water from his blond hair in our direction.
Hanna squeals when some of the droplets hit her. “It’s cold!”
“Great day for the water, folks,” Charlie says. He’s wearing his wet suit and looks exactly how you’d expect a California surfer to look, which is kind of funny because he’s from Kansas. Out of the four of us, Sebastian and I are the only true Angelenos; Hanna is originally from Seattle.
“Why don’t you guys get in your suits? Here’s yours,” Charlie says, handing one to Sebastian.
Sebastian, Hanna, and I drop our clothes in a pile on the blanket. Hanna’s wearing a white swim shirt and bikini bottoms. I notice Pepe is covered in some kind of casing, probably to protect it from getting wet, but I don’t draw attention to it. She doesn’t hide the fact that she has diabetes, but she doesn’t go and advertise it to everyone either.
She reaches for her wet suit and steps into it, jumping a little to try and pull it on. She does this quickly and self-consciously. Hanna’s always thinking she has a big butt. I guess I contributed to that, telling her she did when we were kids. I notice Charlie and Sebastian peek at her when they think she’s not looking. She has no idea how they see her, and I can tell you they do not mind her butt at all.
I reach behind me and pull up my suit’s zipper. Hanna has some trouble with hers.
“Here. Turn around,” I tell her. I take the zipper at the base of her spine and zip her up tight.
“Thanks,” she says, and turns to face me. She touches my chest. “You look good in a wet suit, Mark.”
“Not bad yourself.” She looks amazing.
“Yeah, right.” She puts her hands on her hips and smiles up at me. “I don’t even have on makeup.”
“You never need makeup.”
“Let’s warm up.” Charlie’s voice interrupts the moment. At least I think we’re having a moment. At his words Hanna snaps to attention and steps away from me. “The water’s cold, and cold muscles equal injuries.”
I notice Sebastian and burst out laughing. The suit is way too big for him, baggy instead of tight, and he’s had to roll the bottoms. Charlie is, like, double the size of Sebastian.
“Shut up,” he says, and tries to smooth out some of the suit.
Charlie laughs too. “Sorry, man. It’s all I had. It should still keep you warm.”
Charlie leads us through a series of stretches, much like the ones Hanna and I do before we run, although that’s tapered off a bit. At first we were running every morning before school; now we do it Mondays and Wednesdays. I run on the weekends, but I go alone. I wouldn’t have thought I’d actually like running, but I do.
Charlie has brought two boards for us to use. He lies down on one of them. “Now I’m going to show you how to do a basic pop-up.”
At the word “pop-up,” Sebastian and I laugh, remembering the movie and how we teased Jenny.
Charlie continues, “Will you be doing this today? Maybe not, but we’re going to try.”
It feels good to be here at the beach with friends. I can’t remember the last time I was at the ocean. I pretend we’re just learning to surf, nothing more.
Charlie has us practice when he’s done demonstrating. Sebastian gives me his board when he’s done. It’s not as easy as Charlie made it look. Though since I skate, I understand where my feet should go, how to balance. But this is on land. I have no idea how I’ll do in the water.
“We won’t be going too deep,” Charlie says. “We’ll work with the white-water waves, ones that have already broken. Last tip: When catching a wave, look for the one with a little distance. When you feel the wave start to give you that extra push, keep paddling, like, three extra strokes, and then try to pop up. Let’s go.”
Basically Charlie’s philosophy is to let us flop around and mess up like a bunch of kooks, which is exactly what we are, since none of us has surfed before. I don’t know why I haven’t learned. It’s a Southern California rite of passage that I’ve just never cared about. I’m surprised Grace did.
My feet touch the water and it’s freezing. I jump up and down a couple of times and then rush in. I’d seen other surfers doing that, pointing the nose of their boards into the water, diving and rising like a dolphin, which is what I pictured doing. Not quite. For me, there’s a lot of splashing and I kind of belly flop on the board and slide off.
I look back at the shore. Hanna is timidly working her way in, while Sebastian sits this one out. Charlie stands with Hanna, which is fine. She’ll probably need more help. I notice that Charlie’s hands are all over Hanna, which is not fine. It’s like I’m watching some stupid romantic comedy where the guy teaches the girl how to play pool by coming up behind her to help her hold a cue. Hanna giggles and Charlie steadies her on the board.
Oh, please, Hanna. Like you can’t get on a board. She’s acting like she’s helpless, and I hate when she does that. Even though I did just fall off myself. I wasn’t putting on a show. I focus on what I’m doing instead of what’s going on with Hanna. I’m not here for her.
I paddle out. It’s rough, trying to paddle and stay on the board. I tighten my core and work to keep my balance centered. I see a wave and have to get off to turn the board around. I try to remember what Charlie said about waiting until the wave pushes you.
The wave hits the board and I push myself up, but the board starts to tip. I ha
ve to grab on to the rails to steady myself, but the force of the wave hits and shoots the board out from underneath me. I’m pulled under. It tugs at the leash around my ankle. I surface and swim to the board, grab it, and get back on. It’s much harder than I thought, but I need to do this. Number five on Grace’s list said to surf, not to fall and splash around in the ocean.
Another wave heads toward me. I try again with pretty much the same results. To get more of a feel for the board and the waves, I catch a few using the surfboard like a boogie board, but I still flop around. After what feels like hours of getting pummeled, I finally get a break. The wave carries me and I push up, not jumping to my feet, but using a knee to thrust me upward. It works. I’m actually standing on the board. I’m all wobbly because I can’t get my balance. I hold out my arms to try and steady myself, but I flip backward, crashing into the white water. I jump up because I’m now where I can stand and whip the water out of my face. For a few seconds I was actually surfing. Charlie and Hanna are cheering. Sebastian yells something from the shore, but I can’t hear him over the ocean.
Determined now, I catch a couple more waves in the white water, trying to feel how to maneuver, trying to get a sense of balance and board and motion. After probably ten waves, I find one that I can stand up on again. I’m still shaky, but this time the ride lasts for maybe ten seconds instead of five.
I take the board just past where the waves are breaking. Not that they’re huge waves or anything. It’s pretty tame here, and there’s a sandbar, so it’s not that deep. I run both hands through my hair to smooth it out. The water’s cold on my face and hands, but I’m warm, protected by the suit.
I see Hanna’s out of the water now, and Sebastian is on the board. The first wave slams him. I laugh out loud, wondering if I looked that ridiculous. Probably.
I glanced at the smokestacks. It’s not what you’d think of as picturesque. The water’s cloudy, probably from the refinery. A plane flies overhead, a reminder of how close we are to the Los Angeles airport. Charlie said this was a good place to learn, though. The locals are friendly and expect beginners. There’s a cluster of surfers nearby who don’t seem to mind me flailing around. I’ve tried to steer as far clear of them as I can. The clouds are starting to break overhead and sunlight hits the top of the waves.
