Page 10 of Catch a Wave

“Anyway,” he clears his throat. “This is your room. We leave it pretty untouched. I had been keeping my guitar in there. I’ll just …” He goes to move past me and we brush against one another.

“Sorry,” we both say at the same time.

And then we’re standing here in the doorway, stuck in this awkward position. He’s mere inches from me, looking down into my eyes. I’m staring right back up at him.

“I can’t … maybe this isn’t such a good idea, Bodhi.”

“No. No. Just let me get my guitar. I’ll get out of your hair. I promise we’ll make this work, Mavs.”

Mavs.

The nickname just rolls off his tongue. I can hear him murmuring it into my hair after kissing me, or affectionately tacking it onto something sweet he’d say when we’d cuddle up on yet another beach, watching the stars. He always said it with a certain kind of reverence. Only he and I know why he gave me that particular nickname. It’s a name only he used.

He doesn’t seem to be the least bit aware of even having said it just now.Mavs.

I’ll never be able to forget—what we were and what we lost. Everything that name stood for is gone now.

“Okay.” Bodhi lifts his guitar case higher than needed. “Got it. I’m out. I’ll be in the garage if you need me. Saturdays are my day off. I’m usually out there. Or I can be scarce. Or … whatever you need.”

“Don’t.” I look at him with a plea in my eyes.

“Don’t what?” He’s already walking toward my doorway.

“Nothing. I … just probably need to lie down for a bit.”

That’s not a lie. My ankle hurts and I feel light-headed. I’d love to ignore all those telltale reminders of my new reality if I could.

Bodhi nods and walks the rest of the way into the hall. “I’ll leave you to it. If you wake, and I’m not here, it means I figured out what to say to your brother and I’ve gone to pay him a visit at the shack.”

I smile faintly.

And then Bodhi’s gone. And my foolish heart has this unwelcome yearning for him to turn around and come back.

I hobble over and shut the door. Then I look around my new room. The termmybeing a stretch. This room belongs to my ex-boyfriend and my soon-to-be ex-brother, God rest his soul.

The double bed sits in the middle of the main wall, flanked by two bedside tables. There’s a window looking out toward the front yard, though the curtains are drawn shut right now. Behind me, next to the door leading to the hallway are two sliding doors to the closet. No desk. No other furniture. Just a bed and two side tables. My paisley duffle taunts me from the floor where Bodhi dropped it.

Will you unpack me and settle in, or will I remain untouched and ready for an easy getaway?

I mutter to my travel bag, “I’ll get back to you on that.”

Bending down, I pull my cell out of the front pocket.

Then I prop my crutch on the wall and make my way to the bed. The doctors said to put weight on my foot in the boot duringthis stage of healing. I’m not sure if a full day of travel using one crutch was what they had in mind. I collapse backward onto the bed and turn so my leg is up and then I unfasten the boot, setting it on the side table. I wiggle my toes and twin sensations of pain and relief travel up my leg.

Then I pull up the contact for my oldest and best friend in the world and hit the button to dial her. Leilani’s in Oahu right now—where I would have been—where we grew up. She’s surfing a big wave contest called the Eddie, named after the champion surfer and North Shore lifeguard, Eddie Aikau.

“Hey, Lei,” I say when she answers.

“Girl. I’ve been waiting to hear from you. Did you make it to your brother’s house?”

“You could say that.”

“What do you mean?”

Voices chatter in the background behind her, probably other surfers. A pang of longing throbs through my chest. I’m a few blocks from the ocean, but I may as well be landlocked.

“I mean … he shares a place with another guy.” I look toward the door where Bodhi walked out of my room only moments ago.

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