Page 109 of Catch a Wave

The following week,we’re at the US Open.

No. Not that one.

Mavs and I do not golf. We’re surfing.

Most people don’t know about the world’s largest surf competition unless they live in Huntington Beach, California, aka “Surf City,” or they’re into surf culture. Mavs and I aren’t competing, but we’re hoping to compete next year. This week we’re hanging with friends, watching the contests, catching waves when the heats aren’t underway, and hooking up with our sponsors.

And we’re interviewing with Megan later today—Yes. Megan fromSurfer.

“Did you see that wave Justin caught?” Mavs runs up the sand through the massive crowd of people sitting in a continuous, colorful sprawl of beach chairs, umbrellas and towels—all here for the competition.

“I saw it!” I loop my arm around Mavs’ waist when she approaches. “He’s definitely advancing.”

“That alley-oop was insane!” She’s nearly buzzing with excitement.

“It was. He killed it.” I tug her into my side.

Leilani walks up behind Mavs. I flew her in for the contest. She and Mavs haven’t seen one another in a while. Though, now that we’re surfing more, we cross paths with Leilani and a bunch of our old friends in the most unusual places. So far, we’ve been to Australia and South America over the past four months. We’ve got a European tour scheduled three months from now.

“This is the life!” Leilani says. “Give me a sunny day on the beach watching hot surfers kill it out on the water any day. I’m in my personal version of heaven.” Leilani comes over and gives Mavs a squeeze. “And seeing you! That’s icing!”

“And you too, I guess.” Leilani gives me a playful shove as Mavs steps back into my side and I wrap an arm around her.

Of all Mavs’ family and friends, Leilani held a grudge against me the longest. I don’t blame her. I held a grudge against myself. But we’ve made our peace now that she sees how happy Mavs is being back together with me.

Friends we’ve known for years cluster around us. It feels like old times, only better. Life tore Mavs and me apart, but we’ve been stitched back together—stronger and with an invisible extra layer of something we didn’t have before. I wouldn’t wish our ordeals on anyone, but coming out the other side I can see how they refined us and gave us an immeasurable appreciation for one another, surfing, and life.

“Hey! It’s Kalaine and Bodhi!” a kid who can’t be over fourteen shouts.

When I glance toward him, he’s pointing at us, and his friends are all staring in our direction.

I tip my chin to the kid. A few other heads turn our way. Whenever we’re off Marbella, we’re noticed by someone. I’m sure all the attention will level out, but not anytime soon—not after today.

Something else catches Mavs’ eye. Her brows draw in, and she looks up at me, then over toward the judges’ stands.

“Is that …?” She squints and steps away from me a little so she can see more clearly.

“Kai?” Mavs shouts her brother’s name.

Heads around us turn to see what she’s shouting about.

“Huh. Looks like it.” I answer her casually.

“That’s Kai! I’d know that man anywhere,” Leilani says.

When I glance up the beach, Kai’s walking across the sand toward us, a big smile on his face.

He reaches us, and Mavs asks, “Kai, what are you doing here?”

He pulls her into a hug. “I thought I’d join you. I never take time off, so I figured it was time for a break. Besides, I wanted to see the Open.”

“You wanted to see the Open? Are you feeling well?” Mavs looks even more confused.

“Yeah. Why?” Kai’s whole demeanor is casual and calm, as if he just takes the ferry, drives nearly three hours and shows up in Huntington everyday when he’s supposed to be manning the watersports shack back on the island.

“It’s just that pro surfing hasn’t been your thing since you retired.” Mavs narrows her eyes at Kai like she’s trying to solve a riddle.

“Well, today, it is.”

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