Sparks Like Ours

by Melissa Brayden

  Elle was quieter than normal on the flight back to California. Gia gave her the space to think, go over the events of the past couple of days, as awful as they were. After losing in the fourth, she’d hold on to her number one ranking, but barely, as Lindy Ives finished second in the tournament, narrowing the gap between her and Elle, which was awful. If Gia couldn’t top the leaderboard, the next best thing was that Elle did, the woman who had her heart.

  “What do you think happened in Portugal?” Elle asked, still in defeat mode, as they drove back to Seven Shores from the airport.

  Gia was afraid to say what she suspected was the truth. “We were distracted.” She parked the Jeep and turned to Elle. “We’re letting ourselves get caught up.”

  Elle nodded. “In each other.”

  “In each other, in the drama with your parents, in the crazy attention we pull from reporters now.”

  “It’s gotten out of control.” Since the Trainers ads started running, attention from the sports media and bloggers had tripled. When their relationship had come to light, it exploded even further. All eyes were on them, and not just in regard to their surfing. They’d created a proverbial circus. “So, what do we do?” Elle asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  They sat there in the car, defeated, before finally making their way to Gia’s apartment. Along the way, the noise from Isabel’s place snagged their focus. “Oh, I think we have to stop,” Gia said.

  Elle looked intrigued. “I’ll follow you.”

  Not bothering to knock, Gia let them into the one-story unit and found Kate sitting on the floor, controller in hand as Ms. Pac-Man flew around the screen. Isabel and Larry Herman stood behind her cheering. “She’s a beast! Kate’s broken her personal record!” Isabel yelled, and flung herself into Gia’s arms. “Hi! Glad you’re back. Hey, Elle. Come in! Quick. This is crazy. So crazy. I’m losing my shit.”

  Gia darted farther into the room and stared at the screen, noting the importance of such a feat. Kate, their up-and-coming Ms. Pac-Man prodigy, fairly new to the game, was wrecking shop. “Don’t let the banana into the warped tunnel!” Gia yelled.

  “Fucking get it!” Isabel yelled. “Hurry! Grab that bastard banana!”

  “Ms. Carpenter, oh no! Be aware of the blue ghost on the left-hand side of the screen,” Larry Herman said, with more intensity than volume. He pointed at the edge of the television. “Right here!”

  “So, this is one of the retro video games you told me about?” Elle asked, a hint of a smile on her face.

  “The most important one by far. Ms. Pac-Man is a big part of our lives. She’s everything.”

  “I get that distinct impression. You guys are hard-core. Maybe even—”

  “What a fucker!” Isabel yelled, slamming a throw pillow to the ground as if the midst of a wrestling match. She threw her body on top of it.

  They turned to the screen to see Kate’s Ms. Pac-Man shrink and shrink into a sad little death.

  “It’s okay,” Kate said, standing from her spot on the floor. “I had a good run.”

  She may have gone down, but it had been an admirable fight that would up her high score on the refrigerator. “You killed it,” Gia said. “Update the board.”

  With a nod, Isabel headed to the fridge where Kate’s level and score would be upped. “This is big,” Gia said to Elle.

  Elle nodded reverently. “Oh, most certainly. I can tell.”

  “It seems weird at first,” Kate said. “But I promise, it’s fun. Do you want to try?”

  Elle shrugged. “What the hell? I like games.”

  “Who are you?” Larry Herman asked, stepping between Elle and the television as Isabel handed her the controller. “Who is this, please?” he asked the room, as if this new individual were invading the stasis of his perfectly assembled Larry Herman world.

  “My girlfriend, Elle,” Gia said. “She’s never played.”

  He hesitated. “All right. But you need to understand the importance of not letting the colored ghosts touch Ms. Pac-Man. She loses lives. And they will chase you, quite vehemently. You need to be prepared for that inevitability. Do you feel prepared?”

  Elle broke into a high-wattage smile. The kind she charmed the world with effortlessly. “I do. Those are all very helpful tips.”

  Larry blushed on cue, and stepped out of the way.

  “Hadley might have herself some competition,” Isabel whispered to Gia.

  Gia laughed. “He should get in line.”

  “Hey, sorry the tournament didn’t turn out as you’d hoped.”

  “Next time. Trust me. Next time.” They fist-bumped and focused on Elle’s atrocious first attempt at Ms. Pac-Man. Oh, it was bad.

  “See, you want to go the opposite direction of the ghosts,” Kate explained calmly.

  Larry shook his head in disdain, crossing his arms in a huff.

  “Guess you can’t be number one at everything,” Isabel murmured.

  “That’s a fun game,” Elle said, as they left the apartment a short time later. “Not sure I have much future on the refrigerator, though.” But she was smiling and lighthearted, one of the qualities Gia loved most about her. “Who knew you were such a nerd?” she asked and bumped Gia’s shoulder.

  “Total nerd, with lots of dedication to the job.” Gia bumped her back. “You’ve been forewarned.”

  “Nerds aren’t always so sexy. You are, though. What do you have to say to that?”

  “I’ll take it.” But she felt her cheeks heat. So lame. So easy.

  “Look at that,” Elle said, touching her face. “Look how easily affected you are by just a compliment.”

  Gia laughed and looked away. Her heart was full. “Know what I could go for after traveling? A really hot shower.”

  Elle raised an eyebrow, and Gia laughed. “What?” Elle asked. “I’m doing the Gia. You always raise your eyebrow just like this.” She offered a second overexaggerated raise.

  “No, I don’t. I don’t know who you’ve been talking to.”

  “More like, who I’ve been studying.” She hurried up the stairs. “Shower is this way, if memory serves.”

  Gia raised her eyebrow.

  “See? There it is. More of that. Just like that. Now turn your head to the left. Give me sexy eyes,” Elle said, mimicking the photographer from their numerous Trainers shoots. Gia chased her up the stairs as she screamed.

  Nine minutes later, the steam from the hot water had nothing on them. Elle had her up against the wall of the shower and at the mercy of her amazing mouth. With Elle’s fingers pushing into her and her tongue tracing unbelievable patterns between her legs, Gia moaned low from her throat, grasping for something to hold on to, finding very little, until the release she craved came over her in an earth-shattering wash. Elle held her steady, then kissed her way up Gia’s body, licking droplets of water off her as she went, until they stood face-to-face.

  “We’ve been derelict. We’ve been letting showers go to waste,” Elle said, breathless and looking pleased with herself. Her blue eyes danced. “For two people who excel in water, how did we miss this?”

  “We won’t ever again,” Gia said. “I always thought shower sex was overrated. It’s not. I should damn well apologize to the universe for my naïveté.” She sucked in more air and reached for Elle, eager to get her hands on her and to repay the overly generous favor, and then some. Elle swore when Gia’s hand landed between her legs.

  They might have lost out in Portugal, but it was a glorious homecoming.

  * * *

  “It’s been forever since we’ve dished. So, tell me, if you had to categorize things with Gia, what would you say?” Holly asked, as they dragged their boards back to the shoreline. It was a beautiful Saturday that came with relatively calm waters, but they’d managed to get in a good couple of hours on what swells they could snag. It was the kind of morning Elle lived for. No competition, no judges, no coaches. Just the unhurried love of the sport alongside her best friend.

/>   Elle dropped her board and looked over at Holly. “Surfing is over, and now we girl talk. I see how it is.”

  “Hell, yeah. My two favorite things, and I prefer them in that order.”

  For once, Elle didn’t have that dreaded feeling that she was about to crash and burn. Bring on girl talk! This time, she was ready and well-equipped.

  “It’s honestly more than I ever thought possible. I still can’t wrap my brain around how well we work together.”

  “That sounds promising, which I already knew would be the case, as evidenced by the glow radiating off you like rays off the sun.”

  Elle smiled. “Is it that noticeable?”

  Holly shielded her face. “Sweetheart, I need sunglasses.” Elle nodded, enjoying that her happiness was that obvious. “What’s the best part?”

  Elle considered this. “Knowing I have this amazing other person, who is nothing like me, by the way, to share everything with now. When something happens in my day, she’s the first one I want to tell. No offense.”

  “I’m only partially offended. I’ll accept second place in exchange for this whole new you. What else?”

  “She makes me feel special. Has coffee waiting in the morning when I come out of the bedroom. If she makes herself a smoothie, she makes one for me, too, just in case. She sent me flowers yesterday.”

  “Flowers?” Holly practically yelled. “I never get flowers!”

  “That’s what I mean. She goes out of her way.”

  “And the sex is still good?”

  Elle covered her eyes. “Oh my God. I don’t have words to do it justice. I can’t keep my hands off her, and I think it’s mutual. I thought that, by now, maybe the newness would have worn off, but, Hol, it just gets better as we go.”

  “I hate you.”

  “I know. I hate me, too.”

  “I will punch you in the face.”

  “You damn well should.”

  Holly sighed. “But I’m also very happy for you, because it’s about time. You deserve this.”

  Elle took a moment. “But it’s not perfect. The scenario.”

  “Let me guess. There might be a little conflict of interest when it comes to your jobs?”

  “Well, yes. I think we were both very aware of our rivalry, and if we ever forget, the media is right there to remind us. Not to mention, a chip billboard every five miles. But it might be more than that. I’m not sure yet.”

  “You’re gonna have to explain.”

  Elle stared off at the horizon and watched as the seagulls dove to the waterline, knowing that if she voiced her fears, it might actually make them true. Nonetheless, she needed to get them out of her head. Maybe talking to Holly would offer clarity. “Gia’s bombed the last two tournaments since we started up, and I crashed and burned at the last one.”

  “And you’re wondering if the relationship was part of it?”

  Elle nodded. “It’s occurred to me once or twice.”

  “Whoa.”

  They paused as a rowdy group of teenage boys tore down the beach carrying boards. Elle shook her head. “It’s probably something that’s going to work itself out. Maybe it’s even just a coincidence.” A pause. She couldn’t seem to leave it there. “But what if it’s not?”

  “Then you’ll figure it out, right? You have to. I don’t want you to lose that glow.”

  Elle met Holly’s gaze as fear crept in, making her feel smaller by the second. “This is all I’ve ever wanted, to be at the top of my sport. I’ve worked my whole life for this. I can’t completely lose my head and watch it fall apart now.”

  “Have you said as much to Gia? What does she think?”

  “We haven’t discussed it fully, but trust me, she’s concerned. She has to be.”

  “Talk to her about it.”

  “Maybe. We have the Rip Curl Pro coming up pretty quick. I gotta train my ass off, if I have any hope.”

  “Australia, huh? Well, all the coolest things happen down under.” Holly winked.

  “Is that a euphemism?”

  Holly’s mouth fell open. “It’s like you don’t know me at all.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The sound of Gia’s heart beat loudly in her own ears. Too loudly.

  Round three of the Rip Curl Pro in Australia was playing out like a bad dream of the haunting variety, where everything seemed to happen in slow motion, but you had no means to correct anything or make a difference at all—no matter how hard you fought. She felt like her board was moving through molasses out there, and the more she realized it, the further into her head she fell—the worst possible place for her to be. She felt the tension from the crowd, and knowing Elle was out there cheering her on should have carried encouragement, but it only added to the palpable pressure that closed in on her, more and more, as each second ticked by.

  She saw her shot and went for it, increasing her power as she charged the wave. A big guy, too. She was up on her board, steady and strong. She turned to the left, shredding, spray on her face as she moved straight up through the lip. But her timing was off and she got caught behind the wave instead of with it and wasn’t able to make the exit happen, disappearing with a mouthful of water she promptly spat out. Her leash yanked her back under and she took in another mouthful. Fuck. She pulled herself to the surface just as rescue approached. She swore loudly and waved them off, grabbing her board and swimming the hell out of there.

  A one-maneuver wave wasn’t going to bring the points. The clock was ticking, and she’d yet to land a decent ride. Priority ran out and she shifted her attention to her competitor, Alia Foz, who seemed on fire today. She, too, went left, though her effort was a little more drawn out, the wind edging her forward, fueling her momentum instead of detracting from it. And then, bam. She found the perfect wedge section, held her form, and found her way out easily for the perfect ending maneuver.

  This wasn’t good.

  Gia waited, watching the clock for another shot to up her score. It never came. She set out for a final wave, but it totally fizzled before she so much as made any significant connection.

  Foz ended up a solid 13.2 combined score to her even 11.

  She was out.

  Again.

  With a solid lump in her throat, she carried her board, which felt heavier than it ever had, past reporters, fans, and friends, not saying a word to anyone. This couldn’t be her new reality. It just couldn’t.

  She walked the distance of her hotel room and back again, trying to work through the disappointment, the humiliation. Going over each moment of the heat second by second, she came to one very upsetting conclusion: She was screwed. This was not a fluke, nor was the last tournament or the one before that.

  “Hey,” Elle said, entering the hotel room. “I know you must be pissed right now, but it’s just a continuation of some sort of phase. You’ll figure it out.”

  “Will I?” Gia snapped. She’d never spoken to Elle that way before, and hated that she did it now. The anger-laced adrenaline had hold of her and wasn’t letting go. It wasn’t Elle’s fault. Except it was. Even though it wasn’t.

  “You will,” Elle said calmly, taking a seat on the bed. “We both will. What do you think happened today?”

  “Just like we suspected before. I’m forgetting why I’m here. You’re making me forget.” Whether she wanted it to or not, it sounded like an accusation.

  “How is that my fault?”

  “I don’t know, but just give me some space, okay? I need to just feel awful about myself for a little while.” Gia paced the floor, finally falling into a chair and holding her head in her hands. She couldn’t believe this was happening all over again. Three tournaments in a row.

  “It’s not your fault,” she told Elle finally, finding a modicum of equilibrium. “Not intentionally, anyway. But it’s like I’m not myself anymore.”

  “Yeah, well, I’m not either, okay? So, what are we supposed to do now?”

  “You’re still in the tournament,” Gia pointed
out. “So I guess you’ll surf, and I get to watch you. Maybe that’s how it will always be. I can be your cheerleader.”

  “You sound thrilled about that.”

  “It wasn’t exactly how I imagined my life playing out. No.”

  “And you resent me for that. You can just say it.”

  Gia shook her head. “I don’t want to.”

  “But you’re thinking it.” Elle reached out her hand to touch Gia’s face, but she moved quickly away.

  Elle took a moment, stunned.

  Gia felt awful. It had been a reflex, motivated by her hellish mood, but now it was like toothpaste you couldn’t put back in the tube. She wasn’t in control, and she was lashing out unfairly at Elle. “I’m sorry.”

  “Okay. Would you, maybe, like me to get my own room? Give you some space?”

  “Whatever you want,” Gia mumbled. She couldn’t seem to push past it in the moment, even for Elle, which said a lot about her level of devastation.

  With a singular nod, Elle began moving about the hotel room, folding clothes and layering them into her suitcase.

  Gia blinked. “Wait. I don’t want you to go. You shouldn’t have to.”

  “Which is it?”

  Gia sighed, at a loss. “Both. Neither. I don’t know. Little out of my depth here.”

  Elle straightened and turned to her, the hurt apparent on her face. “I know. Me, too. But maybe it’s better for both of us if we gave each other a little breathing room tonight.”

  “Whatever you say.”

  Moments later, Elle pulled her case to the door. “We can talk tomorrow. I’m really sorry about the round.” And with a click of the door behind her, she was gone.

  Gia felt the loss immediately. She wanted to go after Elle, tell her she’d been an ass, pull her into her arms and not let go. Yet something held her back. She was falling for Elle, and quickly. Her heart was no longer her own, and at the same time, she watched her career crumble, piece by piece, in front of her. How much deeper was she willing to let herself fall before having to throw in the towel altogether, losing her spot on the tour?

  The questions haunted Gia. The uncertain future did.