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.
Fucking hell, I want to pull the collar away from my neck. I’m sweating everywhere. I wasn’t this nervous in the past, right? When meeting girls’ parents?
“Oh,” is what I say in response.
“Does she know you’re here?” he asks and I shake my head. I should’ve fucking texted her when I got here.
I’m vaguely aware of him pressing a button on a little white box on the wall, telling Emery she has a visitor. It’s hard to hear, but I think Emery says she’ll be right down.
“You can come inside and wait for her. She’s upstairs with Nori.” He opens the door wider, stepping aside. “You know Nori, right?”
I think I nod, but I can’t really process anything at this point. Ren Fucking Lawson invites me inside and I barely even hear the words as a steady pounding fills my ears. I’m too awestruck. Is this even real life?
Somehow my feet still know how to move, carrying me inside.
Then it’s just Ren and me in silence.
As cool as this might be, standing in my idol’s home, I can’t help the urge that surfaces, to run out the door and into the truck.
“You look familiar,” Ren says as he stares at me shifting in the entryway. “What did you say your name was again?”
Emery never told me if her parents cared if she was with a surfer or not. Her friends surf so it shouldn’t be a big deal, but I don’t know if I should answer or not.
A part of me wants to talk to him about my surfing. See if he has any pointers or advice.
Where the hell is Emery?
She has about three seconds before any control I have leaves and I make a fool of myself in front of her father.
I’m about to answer, no idea on what will come out, when I get saved.
“Ren, come here for a second?” a voice calls from somewhere in the house.
Ren looks over his shoulder in the direction of the voice before looking at me.
“She’ll be down any second,” he tells me. “Have a seat if you want.”
I’m finally able to breathe as my idol walks away, disappearing into the house.
I’m about to plant my ass on one of the chairs when Emery comes running down the staircase. Nori’s behind her whisper-shouting, “Go, go, go!”
She’s wearing a long dress with a floral pattern and tan sandals that smack the hardwood staircase with each step. Her body is crouched, hunched over, as she rushes down the stairs.
What the hell? She looks like a frog with her knees kicking up to her chest.
The smile quickly changes to a frown as her foot gets caught under her dress and she goes down. I move my feet, lunging toward Emery, but not fast enough to catch her before her elbows crash down on the hardwood floor.
“Ooooow!” She curses as her eyes get watery, but she’s also fighting a smile.
Nori is standing above Emery, gawking. “Seriously, Emery? I thought we planned on a quick exit, not making an entrance.”
“Remind me next time I want to wear something floor length that I’m a klutz so that might be a bad idea,” she tells us, hugging her elbows.
“But I like seeing you throw yourself at me.” I reach down to help her up. “I will say, though, I prefer when you run into my chest instead of the floor.”
I take one of her arms in my hand, extending it out to get a better look at her elbow. There’s a little red mark with some skin shaved off that I kiss before doing the same to her other. “You swoon every time you see me.”
“I do not swoon.” She definitely swoons. “You’re like an unlucky rabbit’s foot.”
I laugh as her dad clears his throat. He must have come back in when Emery fell. She wasn’t quiet about it.
Standing next to him is a beautiful woman with dark hair. Despite differences in hair color, she shares the same delicate features as Emery. Emery’s mom. I remember seeing her when she was younger in some of the pictures with Ren.
“Hi Mom, hi Dad,” Emery waves, smiling. Her cheeks are a little red. “I’m going on a date.”
I clear my throat to keep from laughing again. I’m less nervous around Ren when Emery’s here. My palms aren’t as sweaty, my heart isn’t threatening to beat out of my chest, and my breathing has regulated. Everything is fine. Or it is until Emery grabs my hand, pulling me toward her parents.
“Bash, meet my parents. Ren and Ruby Lawson. Parents, meet my date, Sebastian Cleaton.” I don’t know what I’m expecting, but Ren’s face flashes with recognition and there goes any calm I was feeling a moment ago.
How do you breathe again?
“The surfer, Bash Cleaton?” he asks, sharing a worried look with his wife. “That’s why you looked familiar.”
“Yea—” My throat catches, making Emery laugh, and I have to clear it before saying, “Yes, sir.” Then, because I’m having an out of body experience, I add, “Um… it’s, uh, great to meet you too, sir. Truly, it’s an honor. I’ve looked up to you so much growing up and I still do. You really are an inspiration to me.”
I hear giggling to the side of me. Nori leans close to Emery, failing at whispering when she says, “Please tell me I’m not the only one finding this funny.”
“Oh, it’s hilarious.” Emery laughs and I want to pinch her side.
“You have the world speculating about what happened to you,” Ren says, and by world, I know he means the surfing world, and I hear his unspoken question. How the hell did I end up here?
I shift my feet and wring my hands together. “I took a much needed vacation, sir.” I have never said sir so many times in my life. Now I can’t stop. “I just needed to clear my head and get away from everything for a while.”
I don’t say that I fell out of love with my sport, my job, and my life, but I don’t need to. Ren seems to understand what I’m saying without me having to actually say it.
Did we just share a moment?
“Well!” Emery slips her hand into mine, pulling me toward the door. I follow with a grunt. “As much fun as this has been, we actually have places to be and food to eat, so byeeee!”
“Emery Marie, you act like I embarrass you,” her dad says, his tone light.
“Oh trust me, Daddy.” Emery opens the door, pushing me out first before calling over her shoulder. “It’s not you I’m embarrassed of this time.”