Another Shot with Summer

by Michele De Winton

  “Come on,” T.J. yelled over the noise of the surf. “If you’re not going to take it, get out of the way!”

  The wave was still sloppy, the wall of water building so hard and so fast that it looked more tsunami than tube. But there was no way she was getting out of anyone’s way, especially not T.J.’s.

  “Screw it.” Stroking her arms, hard, Summer went after the wave and popped up on her board. Arms tingling, blood pumping in her ears, she stood as foam and spray hammered her face. The water reared up behind her. She could feel the weight of it, but she didn’t look back. Ahead of her, the length of the wave stretched out, white tipped, teetering just on the edge of curling over and collapsing. There was no time for tricks, no possibility that she could pull off anything other than not crashing down in a big ball of mess. This was a beast.

  For a few seconds she coasted, hissing down the face of the thing, nothing but the salt spray and wind in her face. Then she saw a shadow in the water. A fish or a rock, she couldn’t be sure. But it didn’t matter. The wave was sick of her and started crumbling. The noise was apparent first. Hundreds of gallons of water, crashing down on itself, a dead-ton of weight but with the power to suck her under and keep her there forever. Summer flicked a look behind her and saw the mess that was churning way too close. She pumped her board and changed angles slightly, but she was too late. The water took her and threw her forward into the path of the tumble-washer wave. Like a truck, the wave roared, blared white light at her, threw her over and over, and then…silence. The world was dark.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Oh man.” Ashton lowered his camera as Summer was sucked down underneath the biggest wave of the day. He spun around, but already the WSL lifeguards had the RIB ready to roar out into the surf and pull her out.

  He put his camera to his eye and zoomed in where he’d seen her go down. Nothing. He counted the seconds. Too many.

  She’ll be fine. You’re not looking in the right spot.

  Yes. She was going to be fine. This was what happened. It was why it was such a great spectator sport. He scanned the ocean through his camera, and the white tip of a board appeared twenty meters from where he’d been looking. “There, over there!” he called out to the lifeguards.

  “They’ve got binoculars for that, you know.” Brooke. His sister stood behind him, and he let his camera hang slack about his neck.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt her.”

  “But you did.”

  Ashton turned, but Brooke’s face wasn’t angry, it was sad. “You don’t hate me?”

  “Hate you? You’re my brother.”

  “And she’s your best friend.”

  “Yep. And you screwed up.”

  He put his camera back to his eye and saw a limp form being pulled onto the RIB. “Shit. She looks unconscious.” His hadn’t thought his heart could get any bigger, but right then it felt like it was taking up his whole throat, determinedly trying to get out through his mouth.

  The RIB roared back to shore, and one of the WSL lifeguards helped Summer up the beach, a line of blood tricking down from her knee. Ashton wrung his hands.

  “Leave them to it. Nothing you can do from here,” Brooke said.

  “It was my fault. All of it. I’ve been distracting her. You know I’m shit with women. Man, if I’d turned down the photoshoot with her like I should have, she never would have been in this mess.”

  Brooke’s face changed from sad to stony. “Shut up.” Brooke put a hand on his arm. “Shit happens. Deal with it. Shit that isn’t your fault. And anyway…” She poked him in the chest. “That wave was brutal. It would have nailed anyone. I saw it, the judges saw it, the media saw it, and I hope you took a photo. Because she might have got toasted, but up on that wave she was a pretty damn hot picture, and everyone is going to want a slice of her.”

  It was true. She had looked amazing. And of course he’d taken a picture. A woman framed by water. And the shot would be fantastic, he knew it instinctively. He’d zoomed in and got her face in focus for another shot, too. The focus, the determination had all been clearly written there. If only she knew how much she still had to give.

  “You should tell her.”

  Ashton looked at his sister with half lidded eyes. “Tell her what?”

  “That you love her. That you’re shit-scared of screwing it up. That T.J. is a dickwad, and you’ll wait for her to work a way out of her contract with him. That Summer has it all, and you want a bit of it, too.”

  “I made a deal with T.J. I can’t—”

  “You could. You just won’t. And that sucks, bro. When she smashes this event, she’ll be in a much better place to negotiate with T.J. He might go for it. If it’s handled well. But if you don’t even bother to try and work out how to make it work, it won’t. Summer deserves the best. Someone better than T.J., that’s for sure. And you’re my brother. I know you. And I know that this”—she gestured at him—“isn’t you. This is you chickening out.”

  Ashton took a step back. “When did you get like…this?”

  “What?” She grinned. “Telling it like it is? Poking you in the chest?”

  “Grown up. Smart. Ballsy.”

  “I like to think of it as assertive, thanks.” There was a glimmer of darkness for a moment but then it was swept away by a bright smile. He must have imagined the bleak flash in her eye, or maybe it was just a reflection of his own desperation.

  “You’ve been gone a while, bro,” she continued. “And I needed to grow up anyway. You had your time at the top, now it’s mine.”

  “Hey—” He stopped her. “I wasn’t saying it was a bad thing. You’ve done amazing. You are amazing. I didn’t even tell you how amazing. You came second in the women’s champs. That’s fantastic.”

  “Thanks.” They said nothing for a moment, and the noise of the sea suddenly diminished.

  Brooke was the one to break the lull. “Whatever it was lurking out there has gone. Things are going to be calmer for Summer’s heat. Best you do something before you lose her.”

  Ashton looked at his sister in awe, both that she was so astute and that she knew just what to say. “And you’d be okay with that? With us being together if we can find a way? Even though I’m bad news?”

  She sighed and pulled on a length of his hair. “I already said that, didn’t I? Although, if you break her heart, I will hunt you down and break your other leg.” She took a breath. “Shit happens. Especially to people like us.”

  “People like us?”

  “People determined to take that on.” She pointed at the ocean, and he realized she was right. Both about it calming down just in time for the heats, and that the might of Mother Nature was so much more powerful than anything he could do. It was both humbling and empowering.

  “She’s fierce today.”

  “Sure is. Give half the grommets out here more bad dreams than they’ve had hot ramen.”

  He snorted, and once the laughter had him, it wouldn’t let go.

  “Finally.”

  Ashton shook his head. “Getting schooled by my little sister. Man, I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

  “You might. If you make it right. I know you. I know you’re more of a man than half the guys here. Knowing your limits doesn’t make you some kind of wimp. It makes you smart.”

  “When’s her heat?”

  Brooke looked at her watch. “In thirty minutes. Shit, I better go. Make it right, okay?”

  He nodded and then pulled his sister in for a hug. “I need to find Maya. Do you know where she is?”

  “Media tent. All day.”

  “Thanks.”

  She punched him in the arm, none too gently. “Don’t thank me yet.”

  #

  Summer had only lost consciousness for a couple of seconds, but it was enough for her to have lost all sense of direction. She’d been lucky that the lifeguards had sprung into action so fast. But she might also have been lucky to have blacked out. Being limp, rather than fi
ghting the water, threw her out quicker, and the doc who checked her over raised an eyebrow at her before giving her the thumbs-up. “You’re all good. Not a good idea to go back in today. But I know you’re probably going to ignore me. So sign this before you go anywhere.”

  Did she want to go back in?

  Brooke came running into the tent and took the form off him. “Thanks, Doc.”

  The doctor nodded but didn’t take his eyes off Summer. “There will be other competitions. That was a big wipeout. Take your time.”

  Summer looked at her friend then sat up on the fold-out bed. “I don’t think I can do it.”

  Brooke sat down beside her and put an arm around her shoulders. “You can. I know it. You know it. Ashton knows it.”

  Summer snorted. “You know what I saw out there? I saw him taking photos of T.J. First they make a deal about me, and now he’s his personal paparazzi?”

  Brooke shrugged. “Hardly. He’s taking photos of all of you.”

  “I know he’s your brother, but I thought you might be on my side for this one.”

  “Yes, he’s my brother, which is why I know him. Better than anyone. He’d want you to get back in the water. For you. Do it for you.”

  Summer sighed. “I just don’t know if I’ve got it in me like you do.”

  “Girl, I’m sorry, but shut up. Did you see the wave you decided to catch? It was a monster. Biggest of the day. And now things are quieting down. Honestly, listen.”

  Summer did, and while the waves were still hissing and powering into shore, there wasn’t the incessant pounding roar that there had been earlier. The crowd cheered, and Summer realized that it had started. The thing that she’d thought she wanted most in all the world had started, and she was sitting in a tent licking her wounds.

  “I’ll say what I just said to Ashton,” Brooke said. “You don’t get to decide whether you come or go. The ocean does.” She jerked a thumb towards the door and the ocean. “She knows you want it. So show her. Show everyone. But most of all, please show T.J. The dude is pissing me off.”

  Summer laughed and stood up and didn’t even feel wobbly. “I’ll be okay, right?” she said to the doctor.

  “I couldn’t possibly comment,” he said, and Summer grinned.

  “How bad can it be?” she said. “I already got pounded in front of everyone.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Perhaps it was the exhaustion from having zero sleep the night before. Perhaps it was the adrenalin leaving her blood after being body-slammed in the morning. But after her series of heats, Summer slept. All night. When her eyelids flickered open the next morning, she didn’t feel lost, or terrified, or angry. She felt alive. And bruised, and her knee hurt like a bitch.

  “Lucky I’ve got two,” she said aloud and chuckled at her own joke.

  She’d made it through. Brooke had been right, and the waves had calmed, just enough that she was able to pull off a 180 while most of the other contestants had only managed to hold on to the big surf with their toes. Of course T.J. had pulled some mad crazy stunt that had gotten all the girls howling and the cameras snapping, but when she had come in from her set, even he had given her a thumbs-up.

  Cameras snapping. Her good mood slumped like a wet sandy towel. Ashton hadn’t been on the beach with the others. She hadn’t seen him for the rest of the day. From the talk Brooke had given her, it had sounded like Ashton had been ready to come and apologize. Apparently not.

  It already felt like a lifetime ago that she’d been in Ashton’s arms. That she’d felt safe, and focused, and secure. She tried to dial up the anger again. The blood boiling frustration at him when he stood right in front of her and shook T.J.’s hand. How dare he? But it was hard to hold on to anger when the fear of what might happen today was coursing through her veins. Brooke was right; she was alone in this, no matter what. Just her versus the ocean.

  It didn’t matter. Today she was in the final of the Bali Open event. The first time a woman had ever made it through. Nothing else mattered.

  Really?

  Really. She threw back the covers and marched into the living room. Then blinked. Hard.

  The room was almost completely wallpapered with printed images. Images of her.

  The ones she’d shot with Ashton in Brazil, six more of her in the hut on the beach, the snake lazily uncoiling itself towards the water. She looked like a goddess. Like she and the snake had always been there, in that hut, owning the beach. “I don’t look like that. Do I?”

  But there were more. The images of her in the field, just before she and Ashton had used the tree as to shade their nakedness. The pictures of her in the bamboo, in the derelict house, by the lagoon. In all of them the light danced across her, and Ashton had captured a tiny glimmer of something magical. It was her in the pictures. And it wasn’t. It was her best self. Her most beautiful, most peaceful, most triumphant, most goddess-like, self.

  “He does love me.” It was as clear as if he’d been there. And then she turned to the mirror. Two more photographs were attached to its shiny surface. In one, she was a tiny speck of woman, framed by an enormous wave. Her hair flew out behind her, and she carved a white trail of domination down the face of the water. Ashton had pushed the colors in the image and made it look like the famous photographs of the 1970s where men rode long boards and yearned to surf big waves like the one she was on. She could see why he’d done it. Alone, lost in the fury of the water, she was a warrior. Strong. Triumphant. It was an amazing shot.

  But the second one took her breath away. It was almost the same moment, just before the wave had crumpled and dragged her down into the water. But this one had zoomed in on her face. Determination, focus and clarity all shone in her eyes. If she was a warrior in the first image, in the second, she was a queen. In the corner, Ashton had written, “You’ve got this in the bag. You were right; I guess we make our own luck. If you want me, I’m yours. Love, Ashton.”

  If you want me, I’m yours. The words swam, and Summer had to blink to read them again. She wanted him. Of course she wanted him. She’d wanted him since she’d been a kid. Knowing he’d been there for her even when she’d been feeling so alone, she felt a deep sense of peace she didn’t know was possible. She didn’t need a man, but in this case, she wanted him. I guess we make our own luck. We did. He did. She did. And she was going to make damn sure her luck held.

  #

  The wave was perfect. Crisp, well formed, clear—you could have seen your hand through it. Summer let the water surge under her then pushed up early, knowing exactly where she wanted her board to go before she even got there. It felt like she could have shut her eyes, almost as if the ocean knew her now and was rewarding her for coming back out after yesterday. “I’m all yours, baby,” she whispered to it. She saw it, the sweet spot where the wave was smooth enough and deep enough and she had the speed and traction to make it. Taking a deep breath, she pushed in on her back foot and…she was flying.

  “Yes!” she screamed as she landed a full 360 and kept her balance. The sun threw a shaft of light out in front of her, and the wave started to curl. She let herself be drawn into the barrel, and there was nothing else but the roar of the water and the filter of green light as the sunshine poured in through the sea-glass walls of the wave. Like it was bowing to her, the wave curled back its lip, and she shot out, carving back up onto its face and pulling off a 180 for good measure.

  “Woohoo!” She fist-punched the air and looked in towards the shore as the wave dwindled behind her. A hooter sounded, and she grinned. The end of her session. She’d done it. Pulled off the best wave of her life inside her event. It counted, and it counted big.

  Riding the swell back into shore, she couldn’t stop smiling. Especially as there was Ashton. Standing on the beach, waiting for her.

  He walked down into the water, the ocean lapping at his ankles.

  For a moment they just looked at each other, the water still rushing around their legs, Summer’s heart still singin
g, still waiting, still hoping.

  He cleared his throat. “You know you nailed that, right? Like, utterly nailed it.”

  She nodded, her heart bursting with everything—all the love, all the joy, all the world that suddenly seemed available to her. “I’m going to get a ranking, aren’t I?”

  “If you don’t, there will be a mutiny.” He turned, and she saw a bevy of cameras trained on her. “And if you don’t come at least third, I’ll eat my…dunno. Something that I wouldn’t eat. My camera strap.”

  She laughed. They stood face-to-face, with fifty cameras watching, and she was suddenly nervous. What if she hadn’t read his note right?

  “You were wrong, you know,” she said.

  “About what?” he said, his voice soft, his blue eyes reflecting the ocean.

  “About me having this in the bag.”

  He tipped his head to the side.

  “But I do now. Today. I’ve got this. That wave, the ride in here, and seeing you standing here waiting for me at the end of it. It’s perfect.” She dug the end of her board into the sand so it stood up under its own weight.

  He moved towards her. “You forgive me? Twice over?”

  She smiled. “Maybe.” She looked at the bank of cameras and made a decision. “I’m going to talk to T.J.”

  He followed her gaze. “Really?”

  “He shouldn’t have this much power over me. I earned my place here. I earned this media. I’m going to take what’s mine.”

  But it turned out T.J. beat her to it. As she and Ashton walked up towards the awards tent, the media thronged, and someone pushed a microphone in her face.

  “Is it true? You and T.J are over?”

  The shock was like a body blow, but she couldn’t help herself. She laughed. “He told you that?”