He looked up and nodded when he saw me.
“Hey, Nick. How you doing?”
“Hey! This is Sean and Rob. Marcus is our roomie.”
We joined the small group of people hanging out. I knew most of them vaguely because they’d gone to our school and graduated a couple of years back, and some because they were surfers.
Jonno, a guy who’d been our high school quarterback last year was drinking from a quart of whiskey.
“You new in town?” he asked Marcus.
“Yeah, moved in a couple of weeks ago.”
“You surf?”
“Every chance I get.”
Jonno saluted him by raising his bottle.
“A day without waves is a day wasted.”
Marcus laughed.
“I’ll drink to that.”
Rob started rolling a blunt and I made myself comfortable on the sand, listening to the waves, half an ear on the conversation. I never got tired of talking about surfing; where was the best break, the most awesome wave you’d ever ridden, the worst wipeout. It was our own language and it separated us from civilians—people who didn’t surf.
“You got a favorite break?”
When Marcus answered, I could tell by his voice that he was smiling.
“A few. Bali is the place, man. Great waves, cheap food.”
“Cheap women,” said an older guy named Frank, and everyone laughed, even the girl Marcus was with. “Padang. Now that was special.”
Marcus nodded in agreement. “Nusa Dua had a gnarly left and right just before the rip.”
I could tell Sean was drinking it in, his eyes intense and glassy at the same time. We’d talked about taking a year off when we graduated, leaving town, surfing our way around the world. I didn’t know if I’d be able to afford it now. I hadn’t told him that. I suppose part of me was still hoping I’d find a way, but part of me couldn’t imagine leaving Yansi for that long. I hadn’t told him that either. But with Mom dying, I couldn’t imagine staying. That was the bit I hadn’t told anyone.
“Oh man! I’m totally going there!” Sean said, the weed making his words slow like he was sucking on licorice. “There hasn’t been any decent surf here for two, three weeks now. It’s driving me crazy.”
“Yeah,” said Rob. “And even before that it was typical summer mush … just shitty surf.”
There was a general mumble of agreement.
“I don’t know why you bother coming back here,” griped Sean.
Marcus just smiled.
“Working the summer season is the quickest way to get some cash: tourist tips are usually pretty good.”
“Yeah, but you could be in Maui or Bali.”
I could tell that Sean was turning into some sort of Marcus fanboy now. This could get embarrassing quick.
“What’s the biggest wave you’ve ever ridden?”
Everyone pitched in their answer. I’d ridden a 12 footer once, and it had scared the crap out of me—not that I was admitting that to anyone. But, man, the adrenalin rush was with me for days.
“Mavericks, northern California,” said Frank. “The waves were topping 20 feet and the swell just kept getting bigger. By the time the waves were 35 feet there was only one surfer left: Jeff Clark. Everyone else had called time-out.”
“Freakin’ A!” muttered Sean, in an awed voice. “What about you, Marcus?”
I sucked on the blunt that Rob passed to me and imagined traveling the world, ripping across monster waves. My dreams drifted out with the sweet smoke. Anywhere but here … maybe.
“Nazaré in Portugal was pretty wild,” said Marcus, leaning back on his elbows. “It was topping 30, 35 feet when I was there.”
Everyone went quiet. When someone told you that they’d ridden a thirty foot wave, you paid some fucking respect.
“What was it like?” breathed Sean. “Surfing a wave that big?”
Marcus paused.
“It was … intense. I was sitting in the line-up with two other guys and I could see all these people on the beach. I wondered what they were looking at and then I realized it was me—like they were waiting for a train wreck or something. And then the horizon went black and I knew this was my wave. You start paddling for the peak and it’s getting higher and higher and you’re paddling up hill and this wall of water is rearing up behind you; then just as the nose starts to drop, you’re standing up and … imagine a two-story house chasing you down the wave; the wind’s roaring and you think you’re shouting but you can’t hear your own voice; and you know that if you wipeout they’ll be picking your carcass out of the seabed; and your thighs are starting to cramp because the water’s so cold and your balance is the only thing keeping you alive; and the spray is whipping past you like an express train; and all the time the wave is threatening to snap its jaws shut; so you’re pushing and pushing and part of your mind is ice cool and part of it’s burning; and then the wave starts curling over and wrapping around you and the light is green all around; and you don’t know if you’re gasping or holding your breath; and then you’re spat out the other side like you’ve just been born; there’s no past, no future—just the moment.”
He shrugged.
“It’s like nothing else on earth.”
We were silent, and I think all of us were imagining it, riding that monster wave, surviving to tell the tale. And nobody ever challenged him about it, because we all he knew he’d told us something real.
“But Pe’ahi off Maui was my favorite,” he said.
“Why’s that?” asked Jonno, breaking the tension.
Marcus chuckled quietly. “Because the water’s warm!”
All surfers dreamed about Hawaii. It was like the Holy Grail of surfing. Yansi liked to bust my balls about that—she didn’t really get the whole surfing thing. She preferred to lie in the sun, watching me. Yeah, did something for a guy’s ego, that’s for freakin’ sure.
Someone else rolled another blunt and that got passed around too, along with Jonno’s whiskey and some beer that Sean had snuck out of his brother’s room.
Marcus’ date had gotten bored and walked away to talk to some other people. Frank watched her leave then turned to Marcus.
“Hey,” he said, “what about you and that piece you were with last night?”
“Who’s this?” asked Jonno.
Frank laughed. “Some stuck up tourist. She wasn’t so stuck up after, was she? Are you seeing her again while she’s here?”
Marcus shrugged. “No, she wasn’t my type.”
Frank raised his eyebrows. “She had a pussy, didn’t she? So, what is your type?”
“Single mothers.”
Jonno laughed like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“What? You’re kidding! Why?”
Marcus shook his head, smiling. “They know the score—they’ve got lower expectations.” He paused. “And I like kids.”
I wasn’t sure if he was being serious, and I didn’t know how to feel about that. Mom had been a single mother. Did that make her fair game? I felt a little sick thinking about it, or maybe that was the weed. I sat up quickly, kind of dizzy.
Marcus was watching me. He shook his head slightly, smiled before he nudged my shoulder and passed me a can of beer.
I popped the tab and drank it down, suddenly thirsty.
We sat around drinking for hours that night, and I washed away the week in beer and cheap talk, and it felt like being happy.
I couldn’t remember too much about getting home, except that at some point I was in Marcus’ van, and then I tripped going up the stairs, landing heavily. I made it to my room, crawling into bed fully dressed. I wasn’t sure if I imagined the voices swirling over my head.
“Thanks for bringing him home.”
“No worries.”
“Well, I appreciate it.”
And then I passed out.
Hangovers suck. What happened to ‘make the punishment fit the crime’?
My mouth was dry and I susp
ected that my breath reeked worse than the bottom of a parrot’s cage. For the second Saturday in a row, I’d woken up face down on the bed with drool gluing my cheek to the pillow, and my head feeling like someone had shoved bricks inside then rattled them around.
And, oh fuck! I was supposed to be meeting Yansi in less than half an hour.
I’d been looking forward to seeing her for a whole week, and now all I wanted to do was hide under the sheets and sleep for a month.
I dragged myself into the shower, but someone had used up all the hot water. I shivered and shook under the cold spray, and that woke me up like nothing else could have.
At least I didn’t need to shave more than once a week, because if I had to shave right now I’d probably cut off an ear, maybe my whole head. Sean’s mom made him shave every other day, saying that he looked like a homeless person when he wore a little scruff. They fought about that because he said girls liked it. I wasn’t so sure. I remember Yansi and her friend Esther talking about stubble burn and how Esther had been caught by her parents because her face, neck and the top of her tits were scratched red after one party.
Rob didn’t have to shave at all, although he swore he did.
I remember last year when I first sprouted two hairs on my chest—I was so proud I thought I’d better tie them together in case they decided to disappear back in. Mom asked me why I started walking around the house without my shirt all the time. I guess I was waiting for someone to notice that I was a man. No one ever did, so I put my shirt back on. They hadn’t noticed my chest hair at all; I blamed it on being blond.
I swallowed two Tylenol and headed for the kitchen.
Yansi and me didn’t have big plans. I’d wanted to take her out, but she wouldn’t let me spend any money on her. I was working on it. Instead, we were going to hang at the beach with Esther and another friend of theirs, Megan. Yansi had to promise her parents that she’d be in public with me the whole time during our dates. She didn’t want to break any promises, but we found every which way to bend them.
I just wished I was in better shape to make the most of seeing her. I don’t know what I was thinking to get so hammered. I didn’t think. What a fuckin’ tool.
Julia was drinking coffee in the kitchen with Ben when I walked in.
“Morning,” said Ben, a huge ass smile on his face.
I grunted something unintelligible and shoved two slices of bread in the toaster then hunted through the fridge for something to put on them.
“What have you got to say for yourself?” snapped Julia.
I was tired, hung-over and she was already on my last nerve. “What?”
“Coming home drunk, stinking of whiskey and marijuana! It was a good thing Marcus was there otherwise I’d have been getting a call from the police.”
I didn’t even bother answering, but that was wrong, too.
“Well? Say something!”
“Like what?”
“An apology would be nice!”
“For what?”
“For God’s sake, Nicky!” she yelled.
Ben winced and stared at his coffee.
I folded my arms and leaned against the fridge, watching Julia’s face change color from white to red to an ugly purple.
“Can you even get my fucking name right?” I said quietly. “It’s Nick. N.I.C.K.”
Julia’s nostrils flared.
“How are you going to amount to anything if you spend your life drinking and smoking away each pay check? You need to start saving now if you’re ever going to be able to afford to go to college, even community college. Because God knows there’s nothing left after paying Mom’s hospital bills.”
That was news to me.
“Maybe I don’t want to go to college.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” she hissed, her lips peeled back from her teeth like the rabid bitch she was. “What sort of job would you get without a degree?”
“Like you?” I spit back. “Two years of community college so you can be a teacher’s assistant for ten bucks an hour. Maybe I’ll work in a bar, like Marcus.”
“Don’t be stupid. You can’t. Not till you’re 18, unless you want to wash dishes. Hardly a great career move. And anyway, you know I want to continue to get my bachelor’s so I can become a teacher. But you are just so…”
I was sick of her telling me what to do, and that every choice I made was the wrong one. I wasn’t even thinking clearly; I just wanted to be left alone.
“It’s my life. I’ll leave school if I want to.”
“The hell you will!” she shouted
“You can’t stop me!” I yelled back.
She paused, and for a moment I thought that might be the end of it, but she was just reloading her weapons.
The toaster popped, making me jump a little, but Julia just took the opportunity to launch her next attack.
“And your great life plan is what? Go surfing? You can’t spend your whole life as a surf bum.”
“Why not?”
I didn’t mean it. Or maybe I did. Julia got me so mad, it was hard to think straight.
She took a deep breath, as if willing herself not to yell. It wouldn’t work; there were about 10 seconds left until she went nuclear.
She spoke slowly, like she was talking to one of the grade school kids she worked with.
“Do you want to be like Frank? A perpetual teenager?”
“Frank’s okay.”
Frank had been part of the surf scene as long as I could remember. He’d always been around, working some, catching waves, hanging out. What was the problem?
“How are you going to support yourself? Just one dead-end job after another? Oh, there’s ambition!”
She aimed hit after hit, until it was me who lost it first.
“At least I won’t be miserable like you!” I shouted.
She looked stunned.
“What? I’m not miserable!”
“Yeah, you are. You’re always moaning about your job: the kids, the teachers, the other assistants. I’m not going to live like that.”
“Everyone complains a bit about their job. I love what I do.”
I shook my head and stared right at her.
“You’re so full of crap. I don’t know how Ben puts up with your shit.”
She was on her feet trying to take a swing at me before I even realized what was happening. I stumbled back as Ben grabbed her around the waist.
“Don’t talk to me like that!” she screeched, spit flying from her lips.
“I’ll say what the fuck I want!” I bit back. “This is my house too, whether you like it or not. I know you’re trying to get rid of me. I know you’d rather see me in a foster home. Well, fuck you! You’re not Mom.”
“Thank God for that!” she screamed. “Who’d want a shitty kid like you? Not even your own dad wanted you!”
Then all the color drained from her face, and she raised her hand as if she was reaching for me.
I shrugged her off and charged out of the house, breathing hard. Shaking and feeling like I was going to throw up, I scrubbed at my eyes furiously. My knees gave way and I slumped onto the small patch of grass next to our short driveway.
I heard the door open behind me and didn’t think I could take round two. I pushed myself up and stumbled away.
But it was Marcus, not Julia, who caught my arm.
“You okay, kid?”
I took a deep breath, knowing he must have heard every word.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“She’s just being a big sister.”
I shook my head, and my voice cracked. “I just get so sick of her telling me what to do all the time.”
There was a beat before he responded.
“I think it’s in her job description.”
“She’s always talking about grades and college. I don’t even know if that’s what I want. What do you think I should do?”
I looked up, but he just shook his head and gave a small smile.
�
��It’s your life, Nick. I can’t tell you how to live it.”
I closed my eyes, my body sagging as the tension pooled in my head.
“Wish I could say the same for Julia,” I sighed.
Marcus laughed and thumped my shoulder. “Come on. You need a ride somewhere?”
I was still bitching about Julia by the time we got to Yansi’s house, but I was feeling in a marginally better mood. Marcus just let me talk, nodding and laughing occasionally.
The girls were all waiting by Megan’s car as we drove up. I was surprised when Marcus turned off his engine.
“This is where your girl lives?”
“Yeah.”
“How long you been dating?”
“Uh, nearly four months.”
His eyebrows rose in surprise.
“So long?” Then he laughed. “Didn’t figure you for the one steady girl type.”
I wanted to ask what he meant, but he was already out of the van and grinning at the girls.
“And who are these beautiful ladies?”
They started giggling and even Yansi was smiling at Marcus, which kinda pissed me off.
“This is Megan and Esther, and this is my girlfriend Yansi.”
“Anayansi, actually,” she said, and threw me a hard look.
What the fuck?
She stared at me, unblinking, and I shoved my hands in my pockets because I didn’t know what else to do with them. Marcus introduced himself to each of them and then kissed Yansi’s hand.
I scowled, but he just winked at me.
“I’m warming her up for you,” he whispered. “You look like you need all the help you can get.”
From the expression on Yansi’s face, he could be right, but I had no freakin’ clue what I’d done to deserve the ice-age look.
Marcus left soon after that, but by then my mood had taken another dive.
“Oh my God, he is so freakin’ hot!” Esther shrieked at a volume that had me backing away. “Does he have a girlfriend?”
“Yeah,” I muttered. “Several.”
They ignored me, so I climbed into the back of Megan’s car, shoulders slumped and head leaning against the seatback. Yansi slid in next to me, but when I tried to take her hand, she snatched it away.
“How’s the hangover?” she hissed.
I might not have been feeling too sharp, but I could see that she was pissed about something.
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