Marcus was studying the sets coming in. In every group of waves, one would be bigger than the others: usually about the third or fourth one in. So although most of these waves were double-overhead, every now and then, you’d get a 18 footer or more. Not everyone wanted to ride a wave that big, but if you caught the wave in front of it and you didn’t make it, you were going to get slammed by the biggest motherfucking wave that was rolling in behind.
That’s why the smart surfers would take their time, studying the sets, picking their spot.
I found mine, and I was gone.
I ran into the waves, then leapt onto my board, belly down, stroking out through the froth and foam. The water was definitely cooler now, cold enough to take my breath away. I got maybe fifty yards before I had to duck-dive the first wave. I took a lungful of air, then forced my board under the wave, paddling through the wall of energy, popping up on the other side and hearing it break behind me. My eyes stung a little from the salt, and the wind whipped my hair across my face. I shook my head like a dog, and paddled to the line-up.
I nodded to a couple of guys I’d seen around, then sat up, paying attention, watching the sets roll in, waiting for my wave.
I let a couple go, and two of the guys in the line-up paddled for them. I waited.
Another guy took off on the next wave, and I waited.
Then the horizon disappeared, and a huge, dark wave started rising up. Fuck, it was massive! That wave had my name on it. I turned the board around and started paddling hard for the peak, powering through the water. Two other guys were paddling with me, but I was ahead of them. This was my wave.
The wave lifted me, roaring like a jet taking off. One more stroke. One more, and then I leapt to my feet, the wave tipping forward, my stomach dropping. The board bounced and shivered down the face of the wave, and I bent into it, crouching down, lowering my center of gravity. The wave was glassy on my left, my fingers trailing along its front, my right hand reaching out for balance. The spray misted in my face as I stared straight ahead, my hips, knees and feet flexing and moving automatically, tiny adjustments that meant I’d ride this monster and not get chewed up and spat out.
The wave started curling above me, and I wondered for a heartbeat if it was going to close out and crush me down toward the ocean floor, but it held up, creating a perfect tube, a roaring tunnel of green light. I surged forward, the rail gripping the wave, the fin anchoring me to the water so I didn’t side-slip.
My heart was hammering, blood singing, eyes focused, concentration like iron. Adrenaline poured through me—every microdot of negative energy, every bad thought washed out of me, suspending time. I felt all powerful, invincible, weightless, flying, a guru.
And then the water’s energy began to ebb and the wave dropped, spitting me out of the tube like a dart.
The board slowed and I let it slip over the back of the dying wave.
A huge grin split my face as Marcus paddled over to me.
“Holy shit, man! That was fucking insane!” he yelled. “That must have been over 20 feet! You’re crazy, kid, but you are one helluva surfer!”
He slapped his hand against mine, and I felt like I’d gone into battle and come out on the other side. A survivor.
“You’d love Maui,” he grinned, excitement and approval in his voice as he jerked his chin at me. “You rock, kid.”
I watched him paddle away, the smile threatening to send my jaw into a cramp.
This was why I surfed. For moments like this.
When I’m waiting for a wave, the noise of a thousand different thoughts makes it hard to think just one thing, to focus on anything. But when I paddle for a wave, I’m thinking about whether I’m paddling at the right speed; am I going to get to the peak in time to take off? But once I catch that wave, when I ride that wave, I’m in the moment, really there, and there’s only one thing—sheer fucking joy.
I turned my board around, and paddled back out.
Two hours later, the waves began to drop. There was still a steady six foot swell, but nothing like the epic waves we’d been catching. Which meant a lot more guys were heading out and the line-up was getting crowded.
I looked over at Marcus and signaled a time-out. I caught a wave to the beach and walked across the sand with him. We were both hyped up, totally stoked from the awesome session. But the high began to drain away, leaving us peaceful.
We drove home in a contented silence, but Marcus broke it first.
“Hey, so I was supposed to tell you, Camille wants to cook for you guys tonight.”
I stared at him in surprise and the corner of his mouth rose in a half smile as he glanced across at me.
“She’s a great cook.”
“Okay, I guess,” I muttered.
“Relax. Your sis and that Ben guy will be there, too. You want to bring a date?”
My face fell. I couldn’t imagine Yansi being allowed anywhere near me, although kidnapping her for the evening was an option. I liked the idea of that.
“Hey,” he said, waving his hand in front of my face. “You zoning out on me?”
“Um, no. That’s cool. But I don’t think I’ll bring anyone.” I hesitated for a moment, then asked the question that had been bugging me. “So, you and Camille … you’re still … together?”
“Sure, why wouldn’t we be?”
“No reason,” I muttered, my cheeks heating with embarrassment.
He threw me a knowing look. “You weird about Cheyenne?”
“No,” I lied.
But Marcus laughed.
“Look, kid. It was a one-time thing. No harm, no foul. Cheyenne knows that.”
I wasn’t so sure she did—I’d seen her watching him when we were working together at the Sandbar. I also knew that she had a kid, and Marcus said he liked single moms.
“So you’re still going to Papeete with Camille?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, sure,” then gave me an amused look. “You’re kind of young to think that you have to get serious with a girl. Enjoy life. There’s enough miserable people out there—and most of them are married—without you adding to the numbers. Hell, you’ve got a whole year of high school left—make the most of it. You gotta take what you want from life, because no one is going to give it you. The world doesn’t owe you shit. Remember that.”
I nodded, because I understood what he meant. And I kind of agreed with him. I couldn’t have all the things I wanted: my mom, not having to worry about money—so I’d just have to want other things. Like surfing. And Yansi.
And I thought about Sean, and what he had: the designer mom and dad, the car, the house, the clothes, the promise of a good school … but none of that made him happy. Surfing made him happy—and they wouldn’t even let him have that now.
We were back at the house before my thoughts spiraled too far into depression. And then I was jolted into the present.
Mr. Alfaro’s truck was parked outside.
“Someone you know?” Marcus asked curiously.
I swallowed before I could speak. “Yeah, my girlfriend’s dad’s.”
Then he grinned widely. “Uh oh, someone’s been doing the dirty with the boss’s daughter.” He laughed as he saw my panicked expression. “Good luck with that one, kid. You’re on your own.”
He opened up the van and let me pull out my surfboard, smiling to himself as Julia met me at the front door looking anxious. Then Marcus winked and headed to his own room.
“Yansi’s dad is here,” Julia hissed. “He’s been waiting for you in the kitchen.”
Shit a brick!
“Okay,” I said, trying to find some place of calm inside. But in reality, adrenaline was rushing through my veins faster than a double shot of Red Bull.
Julia looked at me nervously. “I could stay, if you want. I should have been at work by now, but I think I should stay...”
I thought about it for a moment then shook my head. “No, I’ll be okay.”
She patted my arm. “Well, if you�
�re sure. But call my cell if … if you need me.”
I was taken by surprise when she gave me a quick hug, then she picked up her purse and hurried out.
I took a deep breath and walked into the kitchen.
Yansi’s dad was sitting at the table, a cup of coffee in his hands. I wished I’d asked Julia how long he’d been there.
“Hola, Senor Alfaro,” I said warily.
His eyes studied me up and down as he slowly got to his feet.
“In your house, we will speak English.”
I shoved my hands in the pockets of my boardshorts and nodded at him.
“Sit,” he said, as he sank back into the chair.
I was kind of annoyed that he was ordering me around in my own home, but I figured calling him on that right now would only piss him off. And I was real curious to know what he was going to say.
I pulled out a chair and sat facing him, waiting for him to speak.
“Thank you for bringing Anayansi home last night. Her mother was very worried about her.”
Definitely not expecting that.
“Um, okay.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything else, and I wondered if it was supposed to be my turn or something.
We sat staring at each other while he chewed over his words some more.
“I do not approve of her having a boyfriend when she is so young. She should concentrate on school, on getting a good education. But she is very strong willed for a girl.” He paused. “She is like her mother.”
A brief smile slipped out, but as Mr. Alfaro wasn’t smiling, I quickly hid it.
“Anayansi tells me that the boy who was taken to hospital had nothing to do with you. I wanted to look you in the eye when I asked you the truth of this.”
“I didn’t give Sean any drugs,” I said hotly. “I’m not a drug dealer!”
His eyes flickered, but he didn’t move.
“Did you know he was taking drugs?”
Oh shit. My stomach lurched, and I took a deep breath. “Yes.”
“But you did not stop him.”
My face reddened with shame. “No, I didn’t.”
“Do you take drugs?”
This time it was a question, not a statement.
“Not since I started dating Yansi,” I replied, almost truthfully. “She doesn’t like it.” I didn’t really count smoking weed.
He seemed to be considering that answer.
“Her mother tells me that you drink alcohol.”
Oh fuck—I’d forgotten that Yansi had told Mrs. Alfaro about Erin.
“Sometimes,” I admitted
“If I give you permission to see my daughter…” What the fuck? “Then you will promise me—no more drugs and no more drinking. None. You will give me your word.”
My mouth fell open.
“There will be no dates on a school night,” he continued, “unless it is a school activity, such as a football game.”
Suddenly, I was planning on being the Minutemen’s biggest fan. Yep, I was gonna be interested in basketball and soccer and fucking lacrosse, if there was a school team.
“Okay,” I coughed out.
“You will respect my daughter.”
“I will. I do respect her.”
He carried on.
“You may see her during the summer. Sundays are family days, but you may join us at our home. We worship at the Church of Our Saviour. Service starts at 8AM.”
Oh shit. The old bastard was really going to make me work for it.
As I met his gaze, I thought I saw a hint of humor for the first time, but I didn’t want to crack any dumb jokes if he was going to let me see Yansi.
He stood up and held out his hand.
“We have a deal?”
Stunned, I stood up as well, shaking hands with Anayansi’s father. You wouldn’t be doing that if you knew what I’d done last night, I couldn’t help thinking.
He gave me one more penetrating stare that made me look away first, then he pulled out his wallet.
“I must pay you for a new skateboard,” he said. “I understand from my daughter that it was a good one.”
I shoved my hands in my pockets again and looked away. “No, thanks.” Then I remembered I needed to be polite, so I looked straight at him. “No thank you, sir.”
He seemed puzzled. “I was wrong, and I wish to replace the one that was damaged,” he explained.
I folded my arms across my chest and stared right back. “My mom gave me that skateboard.”
“Ah,” he said quietly, putting his wallet away. “I understand.”
He glanced at the ceiling, as if struggling to come to a decision, and I thought he was going to leave. But then he spoke again.
“If you wish, I still need an assistant.” His mustache twitched. “The pay is ten dollars an hour.”
I looked at him and nodded. “Deal,” I said, and held out my hand again.
“Deal,” he agreed.
After that mind-fuck of a visit from Yansi’s dad, I sent her a quick text message. He hadn’t told me that she’d got her phone back, but I was hoping she had. I was relieved when she replied immediately.
* OMG! You are my get-out-of-jail-free card! And you’re working for Papi again! #miraclesdohappen. ILY x *
My smile was super wide, and I even offered to go and hang with her while she was babysitting her brother and sisters. Unfortunately she was visiting an aunt during the day so we wouldn’t be able to see each other.
I was kind of pissed we couldn’t spend the day together because after that I’d be back at work, but at least we had tomorrow evening. I’d take what I could get—my new philosophy.
I lounged around the house for a while, watched some TV, even cleaned out the shit under my bed. It occurred to me that I didn’t want Yansi to see my porn stash, like ever, so I boxed it up and shoved it in the garage. I’d borrow Julia’s car to haul it to the garbage dump later.
Then I decided to tackle the backyard. Mom wanted it to look nice even though she hated yard work, but it hadn’t been touched in months.
I mowed the patch of scrubby grass first, then pulled weeds out of the tiny patio area and finished by cleaning off the grill.
“What are you doing?”
Julia’s voice interrupted me from happy, mindless non-thoughts.
I gave her a look that said, Really? Any more dumb questions?
“Um, I just … it looks good, Nicky.” She stood with one hand on her hip, squinting at me like she wasn’t quite sure who I was. “How’d it go with Yansi’s dad? Was he mad about last night?”
I shook my head. “He came to offer me my job back.”
Her expression was stunned, and I couldn’t help grinning at her.
“Wow! Seriously? That’s amazing … although I’m guessing he didn’t know what you two were up to while she was here!”
I felt my cheeks reddening, so I looked away from her, concentrating on the grill.
Her voice had softened when she spoke again. “So, Mr. Alfaro believed you … about Sean?”
“Yansi told him he was wrong and that it was nothing to do with me. He believed her.”
“Well, okay then.” She hesitated. “Have you heard from Sean? How’s he doing?”
I sighed. “Not so good. I mean, he’s okay, but he’s grounded and they’ve taken his cell.”
“He ought to be grounded,” Julia snapped, sounding more like herself. “That was a dumb thing to do—he could have killed himself.”
I didn’t reply because I knew she was right.
“Do you want a drink?” Julia asked abruptly. “No beer though.”
I smiled as I looked up at her. “Soda’s fine.”
I wiped my hands on a rag, and put the grill back together as Julia stepped out onto the deck with the soda.
“Seriously,” she said. “What brought on all this?” and she waved her arm at the backyard.
I shrugged. “Mom liked it kept nice.”
Julia gave a small
smile and sat down next to me on the deck. “Yeah, she did.”
We sat in silence for a moment, and for once it didn’t feel strained or awkward; I wasn’t waiting for her to go postal on me. It felt good.
“So, dinner with Camille and Marcus: that’ll be interesting,” she said.
I shrugged, noncommittal, not really agreeing that ‘interesting’ was the word. “I guess.”
“Are you inviting Yansi?”
“Nah. Well, I wanted to, but she’s busy. I’ll see her tomorrow after work.”
Julia raised her eyebrows. “Her parents are okay with that?”
I nodded, trying not to smile too much, but Julia caught it.
“Things are really good with her, aren’t they?”
“Yeah,” I admitted finally.
“Ah, young love!” she laughed.
“Shut up,” I muttered, but I didn’t really mean it, because it was true.
Then she sighed and looked down.
“I’m sorry about what I said that time … about a foster home … and about your dad. I didn’t mean it. I was just worried about you, and worried that I couldn’t do it … you know, replace Mom. And I shouldn’t have tried. I was just so scared that suddenly I had this huge responsibility. But the last few weeks, you’ve seemed different … like you found your direction or something. I know I’m not making much sense. I’m just saying … you’re my brother, Nicky, and whatever happens, I love you.”
“Yeah,” I said softly. “Me, too.”
Then she sat up straight. “But if you ever pull any stunts like Sean, I’m so gonna kick your ass!”
I smiled.
Julia could be a complete pain, but she wasn’t all bad.
I went back to work the next day. Not much had changed: Mr. Alfaro was as silent as ever. But he let me ride inside the truck, and he paid me a bonus because one of his clients asked us to drive over to take care of her uncle’s place, and that meant we worked overtime.
Summer of Seventeen Page 21