Break Line

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Break Line Page 17

by Sarah E. Green


  “We haven’t even gone on a date.”

  “So let’s go on a date.”

  “Do people still go on dates? Dates that don’t come from a dating app?”

  “I don’t give a fuck if people don’t go on dates anymore. They should. We should. Go out with me. Tomorrow night. For our first date.”

  “You don’t want to date me, Bash.” I shake my head. I continue my sentence from earlier as I retreat a few steps. Bash moves with me. “Seriously, I’ll drive you up the fucking wall and I run when I get scared and being in a relationship will send me running. I’m already terrified.”

  “You, the most fearless girl I know, are too afraid to go on a date with someone you see every day, anyway?” Well, when he puts it like that…yes, very much so. “It’s a date, Em. The start of many—”

  “Aren’t you getting a little ahead of yourself?” I can’t stop myself. When things get serious, a joke is almost guaranteed to slip out, which is how I hear myself asking, “Who says I’ll want to go on more than one?”

  Bash ignores my question. “Say yes, Emery.”

  “Yes, Emery.” Despite the uncertainty and the queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, I want this. I want him.

  Bash tweaks my nose and I laugh as he says, “I’m taking that as a firm yes.”

  I don’t disagree.

  He’s supposed to. As much as I’m a pain in the ass, I really want this. I’m tired of being afraid of living my life, of doing what I really want. I have a voice and I need to use it. For more than just sarcastic quips.

  We don’t say anything as he puts his board in the water. I stand off to the side, watching him step on it, finding his balance before he uses his paddle to push himself out further into the river.

  I haven’t mentioned this to anyone, but I’m more afraid of going in the river than I am the ocean.

  With the ocean, it’s almost guaranteed you’ll see a shark. When I don’t see one, I make a wish. It’s that rare while surfing. But with a river, where it’s home to a lot of bull sharks, who are very territorial, it’s that much more dangerous, especially since they breed in the river.

  With the ocean, I’m okay because it holds no secrets of danger, the hazards are present in the back of my mind the entire time. With the river, it masquerades as serene, peaceful, but underneath that calm there are threats unseen.

  But I can’t back out. I’ve wanted to do something like this for years. And as if the party people, who are already paddling out on the river, can feel my hesitation, they let out loud whoops, cries, and cheers.

  Laughter ringing into the night.

  Fun.

  That is what this night is supposed to be about.

  That’s what the night has been so far.

  Bash isn’t too far out; he stopped when he noticed I hadn’t joined him. He’s out there floating, waiting for me. His arms are open as if to say, well, aren’t you coming?

  I get on my board. I get on because I want to. Because I can. Because I have to.

  I can’t let this fear rule me forever.

  The light from my board illuminates the water in my path. That creates more comfort, knowing I can see under me.

  I paddle harder toward Bash, who is still waiting for me to catch up. He shouldn’t have stopped. As I get closer to him, I decide that Bash and I are going to race to the rest of the group.

  Ready, set, go starts now.

  I’m passing Bash before he realizes he’s in a race and he’s losing. I laugh, picking up as much speed as I can.

  The thing with paddleboarding is that it’s not easy. At all. It takes a lot of strength. Both physical and core strength. Even after years of surfing, I find it challenging.

  Once you find the balance and a rhythm, there isn’t much that can stop you.

  My muscles pull and stretch with every stroke.

  Power. That’s what it feels like to be on a paddleboard.

  Exhilarating.

  “Slow down, Firecracker.” Bash pulls up beside me.

  “Why?” I taunt. “Afraid you’ll lose?”

  “Ha! I don’t lose.” Maybe in surfing he doesn’t, but he hasn’t competed against me in a paddleboarding race. “I don’t want to join the rest of them just yet.”

  “You’re not sick of me?” Warmth floods my belly.

  “Not yet,” he teases and I splash him with my paddle.

  We slow down and sit on our boards, under the full moon and the shining stars, facing each other.

  There are no street lights to drown out the beauty in the night sky, so for a while we lay back on our boards, hands linked together, tethering us so our boards don’t drift with the current, and see who can find the most constellations.

  It’s Bash, with all of them.

  I can’t even find the North Star. Every time I think I’ve found it, it moves quickly through the sky.

  If we were counting airplanes, I’d kick Bash’s ass.

  The wind starts to pick up around us, bringing a bite of cold breeze.

  I shiver.

  “Are you cold?”

  “No, I just felt the urge to shake my body in a spasm-like way.”

  “Smartass.” He shakes his head.

  It’s the perfect night.

  MY COUSIN IS A LOT of things—driven, selfless, kind-hearted. One thing she is not is punctual. Unless she has a date with a springboard and a pool, she will not show up on time.

  Which is why I’m sitting in this booth at a restaurant alone.

  The waiter has come by twice to take my order and both times I’ve had to send him away.

  After twenty minutes of scrolling through my social media accounts, my cousin settles into the opposite side of the booth with a flourish. Nori tosses her bag onto the table that causes a loud bang to ring out. She’s breathing hard—her cheeks flush. “I’m so sorry I’m late!”

  I wave her apology away. No matter how hard she tries, she will always show up late. I’ve accepted it. She’s the only one that tends to get a late pass from me. “Traffic?”

  “No, I fell asleep after practice and slept through the alarm I set.” She yawns.

  Oh, Nori.

  The waiter swoops in when he sees Nori is sitting at the table, but Nori still needs a few minutes. She’s never eaten at this place before.

  Once he’s out of earshot, I give my cousin my full attention. “How’s practice?”

  “I’ve decided that I’m going to up my training to more hours.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal. She practices early in the morning before school and then for a few hours after. How long is she planning on staying? Until it’s midnight?

  I don’t say anything against it. She wants this and there is no stopping Nori from going after her dream.

  “How’s your mom?”

  Nori shrugs as she plays with the glass of water I ordered for her. The condensation has created a thick ring of water on the table. “I haven’t seen her. She’s not home when I’m there.”

  Wait, whaa?

  “You mean at night?” I sit up straighter and lean across the table. “How long does the hospital keep her?”

  “She’s not there every day, Em.” Nori won’t meet my eyes, which is probably a good thing as I process this.

  My aunt isn’t a bad mom. She was a single parent at twenty and has worked her ass off to support her small family. Still, for the past few years, she’s been distant from us. Going long periods without coming over or answering our calls. The only time we get to see her is when we go to her house—and that’s only if she’s there.

  “Is she dating again?”

  “I think so.”

  “Have you seen the guy?” Her mom has dated a lot over the years, but I’ve only met one guy. I was seven and he gave me a chocolate chip cookie before dinner. I wanted them to get married right then and there.

  Nori shakes her head. “She hasn’t been there at all. I’ve talked to her a few times, but it’s like having a roommate when all I want is my mom.�


  “How long has it been since she’s been home?” If it’s been more than a few days, I have to tell my dad. See if he knows what’s up with his sister.

  “Two weeks and a day.” She sounds so broken. “And when she calls she doesn’t stay on the phone for long. Just to check in and see if I’m okay or that I’ve been eating.”

  I don’t want to bring it up, but I once heard my parents talking about how Nori’s mom used to disappear with her dad, only for him to take off again, leaving my aunt alone and hurting. The likelihood of these two connecting is doubtful but one can’t help but wonder.

  “Do you think your parents will mind if I stay over for a few nights?” Nori asks. “I just don’t want to be alone anymore.”

  I look at her for a good while. Just looking. Not saying anything. “Seriously? Of course they’ll think you’re the biggest inconvenience to ever walk through their door.”

  Nori blinks. Then smiles. She knows I’m being sarcastic as fuck right now. “Pretty sure that’s Brit.”

  “True that.” I grin. A grin that slides off my face. “I won’t be home for a lot of tonight.”

  “That’s fine. I can just hang with the coolest aunt and uncle in town. I’ll probably crash super early, anyway. I need to talk to my coach before practice tomorrow. Where are you going to be?”

  I take a sip of my water. Stalling. “I have a date.”

  Now it’s my cousin’s turn to stare. “Excuse me? You don’t date.” She’s not lying. Haven’t really gone out with a guy since before my accident. The guy I kissed in my freshman year of college was the first guy to touch me since I was sixteen. “With who?”

  “Who do you think?” I mean really, what other guy have I been spending all my time with? “Take a wild guess.”

  “Bash?”

  “Ding-ding-ding we have a winner!” I take the straw out of my drink and point it at her. “You get a prize.”

  She rolls her eyes. “You were supposed to stay single with me. Team Forever Single!”

  Now I roll my eyes. “You’re not going to be forever single.”

  “I will be for the unforeseeable future. Last time I tried it ended poorly, remember?”

  Last year, she tried to go out with a guy and ended up sleeping through their date. The dude called her a few times and knocked on her door for a solid ten minutes. The next day at school, homeboy ignored her completely.

  “So, you’re not seeing anyone?” I ask casually, not only to change the subject away from me, but to find out what is going on with her and a certain Brazilian friend of mine—ours.

  Nori scrunches her face up. Like a pug. “No. You know my stance on dating now.”

  Right. After the one guy wasn’t understanding about the date, Nori said that a guy would only distract her and she had other, more important things to worry about than who was taking her to the prom. Something she plans to skip anyway. Nori doesn’t want a man until she gets a gold medal around her neck.

  Smart girl. Now if she was only smart enough to stay away from someone in particular.

  “About Xavier,” I start and she groans, her head hitting the wood behind the booth.

  “He’s my friend.” She glares at me. Uh-oh. Her glares are as scary as an angry kitten.

  “But what kind of friend? A friend you see on social occasions, a friend you converse with on the regular, or a friend you lie to your other friends about being just friends with? Hmmm?”

  “Did you smoke or something before coming here?”

  “You know I haven’t smoked weed in like two years. Nice try, though,” I tell her right when the waiter walks up. Nice.

  After we order, my burger and a lettuce wrap for Nori, I try to get her to spill. “Seriously, Nori. You do realize he’s older than you, right?”

  “You mean he’s not an eighteen-year-old high schooler?” She tilts her head to the side. Man, when Nori takes naps she is some kind of sassy. “No, Emery. I didn’t know that. Tell me, what is his birth year? Zodiac sign?”

  Under the sarcasm, there’s hurt in her words. She’s seventeen, but has been on her own for a lot longer. She’s more independent than I was in high school and Bash was right when he said that Nori is more mature than other people her age. More mature than I was at her age.

  “I’m sorry, Nori. I didn’t mean that.” Never wanting to hurt my cousin, I wish I could swallow those words. Choke on them. “I’m just concerned.”

  “About what? You know Zay. He’s your friend too.”

  He was my friend first, but now is not the time to be petty and territorial. “Exactly. I know the kind of guy he is. He’s a shameless flirt that will be here one day and gone the next. He doesn’t stay in one place for long and I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

  “He stayed in college to get his degree.” Point Nori. “He’s been in Florida longer than he’d been in South Carolina.” Another point. Xavier moved to South Carolina for about forty-nine days. “He has a good job here, an actual adult job that has him working five days a week.”

  He does? As long as I’ve known Xavier he’s always worked jobs that allow for a flexible schedule. Ones that allows him to pick up and leave whenever he gets sick of whatever town or state he was in at the time.

  “Since when?”

  “The past three weeks or so.” Nori shrugs like it’s no big deal, but it is. It is a big deal. The biggest, actually. Xavier has had a nine-to-five job for over three weeks and he isn’t itching to leave.

  My face must express my shock since Nori says, “He’s my friend too, Emery. It’s not a big deal that he tells me things.”

  I know it’s not, but I want to protect her from getting hurt and me being angry with my friend in the process. “Nothing has happened, right? Sex-ually.” I drag the word out.

  “What?” Nori’s face pinches and she’s gone a little pale. “Of course not. Nononono.”

  She’s flustered and I watch as she stammers to find composure.

  “Breathe, Nor,” I coax. “I believe you. It’s fine. I get you two are friends, I just don’t want you thinking it will turn into something more.”

  “I don’t think that. He’s just a really good friend,” she whispers. “You don’t find those a lot, right?”

  Right. Nori’s friends in school aren’t the best and while she’s close with the people she dives with, she doesn’t usually hang out with them outside of the pool. My friends are her friends but her friends aren’t mine. If Xavier wants to be her friend like Brit is for me, the best friend that puts shame to other best friends, then I’ll try to let go of my worry.

  Until I see cause for it to come back.

  Our food arrives and we eat in silence for a while. I’m stuffing my face with the juicy, beefy goodness while Nori is hardly picking at her wraps. Maybe I’ve upset her more than I realize and that is a knife plunged deep into my heart.

  After wiping my hands and mouth with the napkin I placed in my lap, I reach across the table, giving her hands a squeeze. “I’m sorry and I love you.”

  “I love you too.” She squeezes my hand back while giving me a smile.

  It’s not until I’m paying the check, ignoring my cousin trying to give me cash for her half, and we’re walking out of the restaurant that she asks, “So where’s your date tonight?”

  THIS IS EASY, SEBASTIAN. ALL you have to do is knock.

  Hand to wood.

  Knuckles to wood. You got this.

  You know how to knock.

  I’ve forgotten how to knock.

  My palms are fucking sweaty as I go to wipe them on the denim, but stop before flesh meets fabric.

  I’ve already wiped them on my jeans enough times that I worry my handprints are visible streaks on the fabric. Maybe the slight cool wind, what the air feels like without humidity here, will dry them off before the door has a chance to open.

  You know, when I remember how to fucking knock.

  Since I woke up this morning, my stomach has been tied up in knots
. Food hasn’t had any appeal and time has moved too fast. Tonight is supposed to be important.

  It’s my first date with Emery, one that doesn’t involve surfboards—since the times I’ve taken her out to breakfast don’t count and I can’t even bring myself to knock on the door.

  About a dozen times while driving over here, I thought about texting her when I pulled in the driveway so she could meet me outside and I wouldn’t have to get out.

  But my grandma always taught me to pick a girl up at her door. She also taught me to hold the door open and pull out a lady’s chair. A twenty-first century gentlemen is what she tried to raise me to be.

  I think of my grandma’s smile and how proud she’d be of me as I raise my knuckles, that totally aren’t shaking, to knock on the door.

  Three quick raps and I’m taking a step back.

  I hear footsteps. They sound too heavy to belong to my girl, who walks like she’s always on sand, but that doesn’t stop me from chanting:

  Please be Emery

  Please be Emery

  Please be Emery

  Please be Em—

  The door opens and I feel my lungs seize.

  Holy motherfucker.

  It’s not Emery.

  It’s her father.

  Ren Lawson.

  One of the best surfers of all time.

  My idol.

  I stare at him, mouth slightly unhinged from my jaw, unable to form thoughts, much less words. He looks the same as he did in his pre-retirement days. He looks like the same Ren Lawson I worshipped as a kid. Just older.

  Fucking duh, Bash. You fucking idiot.

  “Hi, sir. I’m here to pick up Emery. I’m Bash—” I stick out my hand for him to shake. Wait, or do I introduce myself as Sebastian? “I mean, Sebastian, but you can call me Bash.” Pause. “Sir.”

  I hate myself. Is this how people feel when meeting me? Tongue tied and nervous?

  Ren doesn’t say anything, just stares at my hand that is between us until he grips it in his own. He gives a firm shake and an even firmer squeeze. “Ren.”

  I flex my hand behind my back when he lets go.

  “She didn’t tell me she had a date.” He eyes me, assessing me.

 

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