In the morning, the group is mostly all business. We’re driving up to Willow Creek at Fox’s insistence, and I’m nervous. I’m an experienced surfer, but I’m not an expert by any stretch of the imagination. I’m solid in the basics, but beyond that, I’m not looking to make it a profession. Fox wants the challenge.
“You’re going to rock this, Lollipop,” he tells me, looking in the rearview mirror. He thankfully doesn’t pop the p this time. I might’ve attacked him as he drove and I think he knows that. And I don’t mean attack in the sexy way. “Stop worrying.”
He has more confidence in me than I do, but I’m barely getting my surf mojo back after one session. Rae pats my knee and tells me she’s happy to hang back and keep it chill. I smile primly and nod. I remain quiet for the entire drive, psyching myself up. I shouldn’t worry about it. I think that probably makes it harder, but I’m stuck on the fact that I got outvoted on our location today.
When we get there, there are a few small groups of people getting geared up. We pile out of the Wagon and start with unloading our boards. We’ve all got full wetsuits today. Once we get our gear out, we stand in a circle to do the quick redress dance. I call it the “Mr. Rogers’s Roundabout.” Fox once changed it to “Mr. Rogers’s Circle Jerk” and I cut the crotch out of his favorite pair of jeans. He doesn’t call it that anymore. Nor does anyone else.
Zipped up and ready, we make our way to the spot where a few guys have already planted themselves. We drop our towels on the nearby wooden fence and survey the ocean. It’s a little rough today but manageable. The winds are just a little more forceful than they were yesterday. My stomach flips a couple of times, but I quell the anxiety with a few deep breaths.
Jonah and Fox slap on their ankle bands and run together and dive in onto their boards. Rae and I look at each other. She could practically still be asleep by the look of calm on her face. Jealousy surges.
“Did you smoke this morning?” I ask, simply perplexed by her ability to Zen the shit out of it.
Her laughter is slow and even. “Naw, girl. Can’t slow the reflexes like that. I might fall asleep in a tube. We gonna do this? Or you wanna sit out?”
I nod. “Yeah, no. Let’s go.”
Fox and Jonah are too far out to catch, but Rae says the waves will bring them back to us, and then howls. I feel a little paranoid at her reaction and wording, but I chalk it up to the nerves. As we sit up and scope for a set we like, she points out some of the rockier outcroppings and possible point breaks for me to be aware of. I feel a little better. Knowing this makes me less edgy. Why can I not just relax? This is going to be fine. Fun, come to that.
Finally, a set comes our way that feels good for me. Rae tells me to take it, so I turn and start paddling, checking over my shoulder for my speed. When my ride arrives, I pop up and snag a long ride on a monster swell—the kind that feels like a championship win. I manage to touch the wall and ride out the barrel for a short stretch, but then my board seems to catch on something and I lose balance, wiping out. The tube collapses over me.
For what feels like minutes, I’m over and under, swirling viciously with the underside of the wave. In my mind, an old song called “Undertow” plays in my head, even though the lyrics have nothing to do with surfing or even the ocean. I can’t orient myself until I bump into a reef or outcropping, which breaks the forward motion and releases me to find the surface. Thankfully, I don’t hit my head, but I’ll have a lovely bruise on my ribs.
When I surface, I hear Rae shouting. And Fox from somewhere, but I’ve only just managed to find the right way up, versus which direction I came from. Breathing stays my focus until I can inhale without coughing. Another surfer gets to me before anyone in my group can, and pulls me up onto his board.
“Thanks, man,” I say, notably hoarse. I cough a few times over my shoulder.
“Zeke,” he says to introduce himself. As if he’s not allowed to help a total stranger. “No problem, love.”
Of course he’s Australian. I smile. “Sophie.”
He twists around to offer me his hand to shake. I laugh, but take it. “Pleasure to meet you, Sophie,” he says.
I help paddle on either side, anxious to get us closer to the beach. When we get to shallow enough water, I slide off and walk toward my board. “Careful there, love. See ya back out in a few, I hope?” Zeke asks, a wide smile on his face.
“Hell yeah,” I say and wave. I’m totally faking it, because I need a moment or seven to recoup, but I don’t want this to be another thing that holds me back from doing something I enjoy. I need this kind of stuff so I don’t go crazy. Especially when there’s any downtime at work.
“Good on ya, Sophie,” he says, turning his board and winking.
Thrumming with adrenaline, I drag my rubbery legs toward where my board washed up twenty yards away. Before I can get to it, Fox comes running out of the water.
“Fuckin’ A Christ,” he spits as he nearly runs into me. “Are you okay? You’re not hurt? No head injury or anything?” He grabs me by the arms when he reaches me, his eyes scanning and inspecting. His hands move up and put a lock on my head. He’s gone full nurse-mode on me and checks my eyes for signs of concussion. “Good. You look good. Are you good?”
I smile at him. He has always been protective of me since we were kids, but he’s a little more frantic right now. I pat his cheek.
“I’m fine, Foxy,” I tell him with a wink. “Just bumped a reef or something and wiped out while I was still in the tube. Didn’t bump my head. Promise.”
He doesn’t say anything else, but pulls me into his embrace. “Fucking scared me,” he hisses. He holds me so tight I realize just how scared he was. “I saw the wave cover you and then it collapsed before you resurfaced. When I didn’t see you come up right away, I about shit myself.”
I let a cackle fly, kiss his chin, and break away to pick up my board languishing in the tide and wettest sand. My steps slow, the squishy ground sucking my feet down. It’s frustrating when you’re in a hurry, but I love the feeling. It’s grounding.
“Who the hell pulled you out of the water, though?” he asks as I walk back. I don’t want to detect a tone of jealousy, but I kind of do. I squash the idea. It’s absurd.
“I don’t know,” I say. “A kind Samaritan, I suppose. An Aussie, too.”
“Is he?”
“Yeah, you should stalk him down. Make friends,” I tease, nudging his side. “I know how you like your Aussie boyfriends.”
“You are a funny girl.” He grins and wraps his arm around my shoulders. His hand slips down to my side and squeezes me in. I jump from the discomfort. “What’s wrong?”
“Looks like I’m going to bruise there.” I point to my ribs where he pressed. “Just before I surfaced, I slammed into the rock. Didn’t think I hit so hard.”
“Maybe we should get you X-rayed, just in case.”
“It’s just a bruise, Nurse Foxy,” I say, punctuating it with an air kiss. “It doesn’t hurt to breathe or anything.”
“If something changes you’ll tell me, yeah?” he asks, serious.
I nod, warm at his concern. I feel like I should have known he was going to be a nurse when we were kids. He was always watching out for me. Fox really can be sweet.
“In any case, ya need some work on the board, Fordham.” But he always manages to ruin it with his mouth.
“I did good up until that point, though, didn’t I?”
“Like a little kahuna. Better than all the other little kahunas,” he tells me. “Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs. Grrrrreat!”
“You’re a dumbass,” I say, but I’m laughing.
He smiles, and I see more than I’m prepared to.
The audience murmurings are really irritating and I resent them butting in with their opinions.