Page 12 of Under the Waves
“Hey, Jas,” a voice slurred behind me, just as a dazed palm pushed against my shoulder. Recognizing the sound, I turned around to see Jakson swaying beside me.
“Sonny,” I replied, giving his hand a squeeze, but I doubted he even registered my action as his eyes were searching the crowd in front of us.
“Did you hear?” He whispered, a small smile creeping across his lips. “Your nemesis is back in town.”
I froze.
Poppy Wells was back in town?
No. No way. She left years ago after what happened with her family—it wasn’t like anyone didn’t know about it, because trust me, they did. If you lived in Hawthorne Hills, you knew about the Wells family, and not for good reasons. The accident that happened years back drove them out of town for good, and I had never been happier in my life to be rid of that woman.
Then why have all your surf scores dropped since she left?
Shut up,I mentally cursed myself.
Annoyance threaded through my veins. It wasn’t a lie, though—ever since she left my scores started dropping. Gradually at first, but these past few months, they had become more noticeable. Even Koa Steele, our youngest teammate, scored higher than me on the last practice heat before the competition rounds started. And when I tell you, I had never been more embarrassed in my life than when the commentators read out his score followed by an immediate: ‘only a sophomore on the team, Hollis, can you believe he beat his teammate and legend Jasper Ridge by five points? This hasn’t been a great few heats from him, could he be slipping down the ranks this year?’
I’d thrown my board against the sand and stormed off because Iknewif I heard one more fucking word out of that idiot’s mouth, then I would’ve punched him—and that was something I could not afford to do. Not with everything that was at risk this year. With coach hammering down on me every single fucking chance he got, the last thing I needed for my image and sanity was for articles about me punching my teammate in a fit of jealous rage plastered around town.
Don’t get me wrong, coach had looked out for me since I was a little kid who was so afraid of failing that he never trusted his gut or the board beneath his feet. He’d helped me become the surfer I was today, and even I knew it was okay to admit that I was pretty damned good at it.
Or at least I used to be.
“I heard it from Saskia, you know the cutesave-the-whaleschick on the girl’s field hockey team? Well, she heard it from a brunette girl…Hailey or something, who heard it from her cousin, who heard it from her aunt’s friend, who saw them move back into that old house down on what street was it?” A rushed breath past his parted lips just as an annoyed grunt left mine.
“You could’ve stopped at ‘she’s here’,” I groaned, running my palm across my face. Why did she have to come back here of all places?Fuck. I couldn’t afford any distractions this year, my entire focus had to remain on surfing. I couldn’t even contemplate an outcome where I didn’t make the Pros because that wasn’t going to happen. My fists clench at the idea of it.
“Why don’t you ask her—” A hiccup left his lips. “To insult you more when were at practice—” Another hiccup. “Everyone knows you surf better when she’s there berating you—”
I snapped, shoving him against a wall, “don’t even finish that sentence.”
“That was sexy.” He winked. “You should do that to Poppy, I bet she’d be more willing to insult you if you—”
I punched him. Once. Twice.
I didn’t stop until someone dragged me off him—not someone,fivedifferent people, including Koa Steele.Dammit. I hated that guy.
“Get the fuck off me,” I growl at them all, shoving them away.
“Cap, I think—”
“Fuck sake, shut your mouth, Steele, no one cares what you have to say.”
Okay, Iknewthat was unnecessarily mean, but I couldn’t care less. I’d apologize or whatever at practice in the morning. But right now, I justcouldn’thave them near me, or anyone for that matter. Rage clouded my vision as I stalked past drunk students throwing themselves at each other and meandered carefully through the living room that led out onto the balcony. Taking the pearl-white marble steps two at a time, I didn’t stop walking until the calming notion of waves brushing against my toes hit me like a steam roller.
The ocean had always been my safe space—a place I knew would cradle my body when I could no longer stand. Saltwater and sand tickled my senses as I just stood there at the edge of the beach, where the sand met the waves, thinking of everything and nothing at all.
It felt like days were passing by me before I even had a chance to live them. I had to be the best, I had to be good enough for them to choose me out of every goddamned surfer in the country. Junior championships had been tough, but nothing like I knew I would face this year.
This was me trying to keep my head above the waves, but it didn’t seem to be good enough.
I didn’t seem to be good enough.
My shiny wheels were fucking rusting and now I was falling behind all my teammates, unable to catch up.
At least I was trying—I wasalwaysfucking trying, and maybe that was the problem.
I tugged my headphones out from my pocket and turned the volume up to full blast, needing to be anywhere but my own thoughts.All At Onceby The Fray shot threw them, practically loud enough to drill through my skull, but I didn’t care. I needed this. Besides, I never missed an opportunity to listen to my favorite band play.