Surf School

by Laurine Croasdale

  ‘Welcome to the Stuart Crawford Memorial Surf Off, folks. We can promise some great surfing today so stick around.’

  ‘They’re pushing it to promise great surfing in that,’ Tilly said nodding at the two-foot slop.

  ‘Mmmm, how about a barbecued sausage sanger?’ Fran suggested.

  Marlee shook her head, her gaze focused on the surf. ‘Maybe after, Pani, I don’t think I could keep it down.’

  ‘Let’s sit here for a while and check out the banks.’ Tilly squeezed Marlee’s hand but she didn’t respond. ‘Calm down. You’ll be fine.’

  ‘Once I’m out there I will. It’s the waiting around I hate. I can’t think clearly – it’s like I’ve got bugs crawling in my stomach.’ Marlee rubbed her belly, sitting down on the beach wall where they had a clear view of the competition area. Fran and Tilly sat either side and watched silently as the first heats were run.

  A hot wind blew on shore and the waves ran into the beach at angles with no definite pattern. As the tide came in, a decent-sized set reared up out the back. Tilly pointed to the first wave forming.

  ‘That’s what we want, more of those. We might be …’ The rest of her sentence was lost as the hooter blared.

  Jamie and Matt ran to the shallows, skimming their boards into the water and diving after them.

  ‘Let’s hope the wind picks up some more.’

  Marlee stood up, her face pale, intent. She smacked her hands against her thighs, then began to stretch out her legs. ‘Let’s get our shirts.’

  ‘Don’t you want to watch Jamie?’

  But Marlee didn’t answer so Tilly stood up. ‘Good idea, let’s do it,’ she said. ‘Have we got a plan?’

  ‘The plan is that there is no plan,’ said Marlee. ‘Those conditions change every five minutes so all we can do is pick the best break and hope it pays off.’ Marlee strode purposefully to the registration tent.

  Tilly lingered, crestfallen. All her apologies, all her efforts to cajole Marlee into the comfortable space they had once shared hadn’t worked. She watched her friend walking away, shoulders set resolutely square and wondered what it was going to take to get Marlee back into her life.

  ‘Hold up,’ she called, running to catch up.

  Pink rolled out of bed in a fog of fatigue, occasional waves of nausea still sweeping through her, taking her by surprise so she’d have to run to the bathroom, her body in a cold sweat. The apartment was silent. Her parents had gone to the contest without waking her.

  She sat on the cool bathroom tiles, arms wrapped around the toilet, head against the seat, breathing in ragged breaths, willing the surge in her stomach to go away but it only took one sharp memory of the awful smell in Kim’s van to trigger it and she’d leap up, head into the bowl, heaving and gagging, even though there was nothing left to bring up.

  Pink sank back to the floor, glad she’d been grounded. Even if she hadn’t, there was no way she’d go down to the beach until she was certain Kim had gone. She realised that apart from his dreads, his voice and his cute smile, she didn’t know anything about him. She hadn’t even known his real name until last night.

  She shuffled into the shower, the hot jets of water easing her aching shoulders, trying to recall the conversation she’d had with her parents early this morning. That was only the start. Tonight Pink would be questioned on her every move of the holidays so far.

  The breeze on the deck revived her a little and only then did she uncover her dad’s telescope, scanning the beach until she spotted Tilly, Fran and Marlee on the wall near the judge’s tent. Her father was in the judge’s chair glancing at his watch, and her mother sat under a massive Island Breeze umbrella talking to a friend.

  ‘Bad luck, Tilly.’ Marlee handed her a towel but avoided Tilly’s eyes.

  ‘Sienna surfed better. Pure and simple.’ Tilly slumped on the sand, exhausted, eyes stinging from the salt. ‘Just my luck to draw her first up.’

  ‘You could beat her if you’d set your mind to it,’ Marlee said quietly. And when Tilly raised her eyebrows she added, exasperated, ‘You know you can. You’ve more talent than all of us.’

  ‘That’s unfair. She got lucky with that freak set that rolled in. Better than the slop I had,’ Tilly said, annoyed. ‘Besides, it’s only a club competition.’

  Jamie swooped down next to Tilly holding three sausage sandwiches and biting all of them at once.

  ‘You totally ripped that second wave,’ he mumbled. ‘Shame Sienna was on form.’

  Tilly looked at Marlee feeling vindicated, but Marlee had put her headphones on and was warming up – kicking out her legs, swinging her neck from side to side and working her jaw to relieve the tension. Tilly nudged Jamie’s shoulder, then bit into his sandwich.

  ‘Thanks, big fella. Let’s hope Marlee goes well in the final. She’s so close to making her first dream come true. It’s just a shame she’s up against Kyle.’

  Without a word to the others Marlee collected her board and ran down to the marshalling area.

  ‘Good luck!’ Tilly called, but Marlee put her hand up and kept running, not looking back.

  ‘What’s with her?’ Jamie asked, passing Tilly a sandwich.

  ‘Don’t take it personally,’ Fran said to Jamie, but looking at Tilly. ‘She’s always like this when she competes. She gets nervous. Sometime she doesn’t talk at all. Crazy if you ask me.’

  Marlee tried to look as calm and confident as Kyle but her limbs wouldn’t take any notice. As they stood side by side, she shifted constantly from leg to leg, tugging down her competitor’s vest, rolling her shoulders, flicking her fingers to get the tension out. If her agitation annoyed Kyle, he didn’t show it. He stared calmly at the surf, watching every wave, deciding where to paddle first.

  Marlee knew she should do that too. Watch the waves. But as she moved to the right, her arm brushed Kyle’s. His warmth buzzed through her and she jerked away, scanning the surf. She and Tilly had decided that the right-hander was the best bet but the conditions had changed again. She spotted a left peeling off nicely not too far off shore and snuck a look at Kyle to see if he’d noticed it. When the hooter blared Marlee ran into the water, threw away her earlier plan and headed impulsively for the new break.

  To Marlee’s ears her breathing was as loud as the wave rushing towards her. She pushed herself harder, chest squeezed tight as she kept pace with Kyle. He paddled towards a right-hander she’d thought about going for, and, seizing her chance, she dug deep, directing her board towards the left.

  Pink yelled from her vantage point on the deck, swinging the telescope across to Kyle, who checked Marlee, paddling faster. But Marlee had luck on her side. A wave rose up in front of her and she locked in, ripping down the face, wheeling her board in a tight arc so the fins busted out the back of the wave. She pushed downwards, crouching low to pick up speed, milking the ride for all she could.

  ‘Finn’s charging her first wave. Nice and graceful,’ the commentator called.

  But the wave died quickly and Marlee flicked off, heading back out.

  ‘6.5. Promising start for Finn but she’s going to have to come up with something pretty special to beat Parker once he gets moving.’

  Kyle sat way out, astride his board. As the minutes ticked down he looked increasingly rattled and Marlee forced herself to turn away, staying focused. A set came in and Kyle pounced. Even though she couldn’t see him surf she knew he’d killed it just by the cheers coming from the beach. And the commentator confirmed it.

  ‘Sensational ride for Kyle Parker. It’s an 8.5, folks. A very strong start. Finn needs a good wave score to keep up but she’s still very much in this.’

  Tilly glanced nervously at her watch. Only five minutes left. She watched Marlee bobbing up and down, retying her ponytail as though she hadn’t a care in the world. But Tilly could see the stiffness in her back and knew she’d be frantically looking for something to pick up, something with a long enough ride to fit in as many turns as she could. The more tu
rns, the higher the score. The next wave would be vital. A small right-hander was shaping up nearby and Marlee snapped into action throwing herself into a late take-off, not ideal, but she hung in there, dropping down the face, managing a cut back and re-entry before it closed out.

  ‘It’s a 4,’ the commentator said. ‘So far a 12.5 total for Finn and an 8.5 for Parker. The tally will be on the two best waves and either one of them can take this out. Time’s running out and both contestants are struggling to find something to ride. My guess is whoever gets the next wave will have it in the bag.’

  Marlee’s head began to run, her thoughts confused, distracted by the clock, searching desperately for waves. She shook her head as though that would clear her thoughts. On impulse, she started paddling to the only spot she had a chance of getting a decent wave. Out the back where Kyle was heading. The place she and Tilly had sussed earlier.

  She and Kyle streaked across the water from different directions, meeting in the same spot just as the three-minute hooter sounded. Marlee refused to look at Kyle, instead she scanned the ocean, trigger happy, ready to move the second a swell came her way. Kyle was edgy too. He paddled around her constantly, circling like a shark. She tried to ignore him but his movements distracted her. She whipped her head around as he paddled up behind her, across in front, back again.

  Finally, a set moved towards them. It was a good size and Marlee was closest. She sprinted towards it, the advantage hers. Kyle sensed her movement and shifted direction, quickly closing the gap but Marlee was still marginally in front. The wave stood up, curving along the edge.

  ‘It’s mine. You owe me,’ Kyle yelled.

  ‘What?’ Marlee kept paddling. He was alongside her now, pushing past, breathing heavily.

  ‘You owe me. For the other day.’

  Marlee froze, not sure she’d heard right. Did he mean helping her in the surf? Isn’t that something you just do?

  It was the two-second break in concentration Kyle wanted and he took it, forcing her out to get the inside, pushing his board onto the wave. If Marlee took off now she’d be called for interference and disqualified. Either way, he’d won. She watched in disbelief as the back of the wave rolled by, Kyle at its crest, a low pressure system gathering in her chest.

  Even though she was the furthest away, Pink’s telescope had a front row seat. She saw Marlee yelling angrily. A set was lining up behind her, led by an insane right-hander that Marlee had failed to notice. Pink went into overdrive trying to catch Marlee’s attention, jumping up and down, waving her arms, her towel and finally blowing a whistle she’d grabbed in case Marlee won.

  But the cheering for Kyle drowned her out. His score, a very respectable 7.9, echoed towards her. Pink kept yelling, blowing her whistle, waving her pink beach towel like a flag. Marlee gazed at the shore line, her eyes occasionally drifting up to the sky, then finally caught sight of Pink’s towel, and Pink, looking like she was about to explode, pointing, yelling something she couldn’t hear.

  Marlee whipped around. The first wave in the set powered down on her, a towering green wall easily six foot, maybe more. Instinct kicked in and she went for it, sprinting closer and closer. Marlee beat it down, paddling until she thought her belly would split just as the hooter blared signalling the end of the heat. But Marlee kept going, this was her wave and she was going to give it everything she had. She lifted off, charging the face, the whole ocean pushing her to shore.

  The fury in her head flowed into her body and there was none of her normal grace and poise, just attack and rip, carving the wave into shreds of white lace. She pushed her board hard into an arc until she ran out of wave and soared into the air, twisting it around and back down. The wave curled over and Marlee crouched low, the roaring in her ears at screaming pitch as the wave closed over her. Pink could see her foot sticking out of the barrel but that was all. And then the wave shut her down, wrapping her in its turbine, her leg rope ripped off, board gone.

  It felt like hours before Marlee’s head broke the surface. She gasped for air, scanning the water for her board until she finally spotted half of it washed up in the shallows. Marlee swam ashore, collecting her broken board and cursing herself for not fixing that fin chop three weeks ago. All those years she’d hated her board but now it was broken in two and she had no board at all. She felt empty, but anger was quickly filling the space.

  The thudding in her head exploded as she backtracked to that moment in the surf with Kyle and a surge of fresh rage swirled into the pit. She’d lost, not just the competition but the board as well and now the unthinkable: she had nothing to ride. She ran, oblivious to the cheering and the commentator.

  ‘That has got to be the best ride of the day. Pity the hooter went or Finn would’ve been carrying a new board in five minutes time.’

  Marlee ran past Tilly, Fran and Jamie, her head fizzing with fury. She darted up the beach towards Kyle who was crouching on the sand, towel across his knees, waiting for the presentation. Marlee threw what was left of her board in the sand at his feet. Kyle yelped and grabbed at his foot.

  ‘What was that for?’

  ‘You cheated me out of that wave,’ Marlee yelled, fists clenched. As Kyle tried to stand, Marlee pushed him hard. He fell back onto the sand. ‘I was right about you all along.’

  Christie stepped between them. ‘Marlee, pull yourself together. This is not the way to behave.’

  Kyle ignored Christie, rounding on Marlee. ‘If it was your wave how come you weren’t on it, you maniac?’ He wrapped his hand over his foot. ‘You lose worse than I do.’

  ‘I play fair,’ Marlee screamed. ‘Unlike you.’

  ‘I play to win,’ Kyle yelled. ‘And if you can’t accept it, don’t compete.’ His voice softened. ‘It’s only a board, Marlee. Calm down.’

  He lifted his hand and blood oozed from where her board had sliced across his foot. Marlee gasped, watching him put his hand back, the colour draining from his face.

  ‘Only a board,’ she said feebly. ‘No. You are totally wrong, Kyle. It wasn’t only a board.’ Marlee’s energy melted, her body slumping.

  Christie pushed in front of Marlee, wrapping a towel around Kyle’s foot.

  ‘Go home and cool off, Marlee,’ she said coldly. ‘Get your emotions under control.’ She turned to Kyle. ‘You’re going to need stitches. Let’s wrap that up, then we’ll get you up to the hospital straight after the presentation.’

  Marlee passed Fran and Tilly without even noticing them and walked home slowly along the shore. All the training, those wretched pamphlet runs, swimming, running, dreaming, and she couldn’t even win a small club comp. What hope did she ever have of making the World Championship Tour? She pushed herself up the stone steps, across the road, down her driveway, into the garage and shut her door.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Surfing’s Newest Bad Girl

  You could hear sponsorship doors slamming right up the east coast yesterday after an ugly altercation between emerging local talents Marlee Finn and Kyle Parker.

  It started at the Stuart Crawford Memorial Surf Off, where Finn wowed the crowd with her massive talent, but the club friendly turned sour when an argument broke out in the surf between her and long-standing rival Parker, himself no stranger to controversy. It ended in tears with bad girl Finn taking it up with Parker after the heat, slicing his foot open with her broken board. Parker’s training session in Hawaii this Christmas is now in doubt.

  ‘It was a disgraceful display of behaviour and not the way to go about finding a sponsor,’ Christie Fuller, head of the Island Breeze label said.

  The club president added, ‘Although it’s healthy to be competitive, you also need to learn to keep your emotions in check. Unfortunately Marlee will learn from this the hard way.’

  Diamond Beach Daily

  So much salt had crusted over Marlee’s windows that Tilly couldn’t see in and even though she was sure Marlee was there, she wouldn’t open the door. In the end Tilly pushed the Blood Book
under the door and left.

  I’ve just written to that stupid newspaper telling them that they need to get their facts straight. Kyle’s such a bully sometimes and you’re one of the few people who’ll stand up to him. I saw him today and told him he should be ashamed of himself. Mind you, he looks pretty pathetic limping around unable to go in the water.

  We all support you, Marlee. Me, Franipani and Pink – who managed somehow to find a mobile and text me last night. She saw it all through the telescope and she’s going to tell her parents.

  Don’t hole up in your shed. Come and be with us. Til xxx

  The computer fitted snugly into the shopping trolley with just enough room for Tilly to sit at the back. Jamie and Tilly set off towards the shops, Jamie riding the trolley like a scooter even though it careered wildly across the boardwalk, cyclists and joggers veering out of their way.

  Aqua waves followed their erratic journey along the boardwalk while Tilly soaked up the huge blue sky.

  ‘You’re being very polite,’ Tilly yelled over her shoulder, a little guilty that Jamie was doing boring stuff with her when the surf was so good.

  ‘Huh?’

  ‘You’re being very polite, about the surf, more specifically …’ The trolley swerved sharply to the left and she grabbed the side with one hand, the computer with the other. ‘Woaaah! More specifically about you not being in it.’

  ‘Oh, well. It’ll be there later,’ said Jamie, wistfully.

  ‘Thanks, Jamie. You know what? I feel like you’re more my friend now than Sam’s.’

  ‘Yeah, well, he’s uglier,’ said Jamie, embarrassed. ‘Where is Sam? I couldn’t find him this morning.’

  ‘At home, cleaning the bathroom.’

  ‘Yeah, sure.’ ‘No. He’s at the hospital helping Dad. But he really did clean the bathroom the other day.’

  ‘No way.’