Page 95 of Catch a Wave

Finally, the nurse comes in and tells Kalaine she needs to have the room cleared so she can examine me to be discharged. My mom pokes her head in the door.

“We’re breaking you out of here, Bodhi!”

Mom has no idea of what I’ve done—what I had to do because I love Kalaine more than life.

My mom waits in the hall. The nurse gives me and Kalaine a moment. Kalaine kisses me on the forehead, leaving a trail of kisses on my skin. And then she walks away—like I asked her to. And even though my heart screams at me to beg her to turn around, I don’t. I’m doing this for her. Anything else would be supremely selfish.

I’m a drowning man. If she stays, she’ll drown right along with me.

KALAINE

(ONE MONTH AFTER OUR BREAKUP)

He will be sorry for the way he treated you,

don’t you worry about that.

~ Nikki Rowe

It’s been a month since Bodhi broke things off—the most excruciating month of my life. I went to the competition and I won first in women’s heats just like I promised him I would. He went home to California, and I think he changed his cell number, or he blocked me, because he’s stopped answering any of my calls or texts. Then I stopped calling and texting because a woman can only take so much rejection before she starts to implode into a very dark place.

To top that off, Kai officially announced his voluntary retirement from the pro circuit. It had been a long time coming, I sensed it for probably the past six months to a year. But I think Bodhi’s accident flipped the switch for my brother. Kai’s not even casually surfing these days. And this week he got a call from a guy who owns a resort on an island off the coast of California, inviting him to come run their water sports rentals and lessons. He said he’s considering it.

“What’s with the men I love? They’re all leaving me for California,” I moan to Leilani.

We’re manning the counter inside my uncle’s food truck, taking orders for plate lunches from tourists and locals. I don’t need the work, but I have to stay busy or I’ll spin out into a grief-stricken mess.

“Sweet kaikua?ana, I don’t pretend to understand men.” Leilani takes money from the guy at the window and hands him his change.

The guy decides to insert himself into our conversation. “We’re pretty easy. Feed us. Tell us we did a good job at whatever we’re doing at the moment. Satisfy us with physical affection. Bam. You nailed it.”

“Thanks, bruh. If only.” Leilani rolls her eyes.

“Women are the complex creatures,” the guy continues. “Full of nuance and mystery.”

“Nuance and mystery, huh?” Leilani leans closer to the window to size the guy up.

From where I’m sitting, he looks attractive. Typical caucasian surfer, here to soak up the North Shore vibes.

I prop my hip on the counter behind us while my uncle continues to cook Spam on the cooktop and then cut the chicken he just grilled for the teriyaki.

“Yeah.” This guy runs a hand through his shoulder-length hair. “Women are like flowers. Delicate, but also strong enough to withstand a storm. Each one unique in its beauty. Men are like coconuts.”

I almost laugh. This guy is trying hard with the poetic lines, that’s for sure. His eyes look sincere, though.

“I don’t know what the heck you’re talking about,” Leilani says with a chuckle. “But I like you.”

All it takes is that little bit of encouragement and this guy’s all, “Wanna grab a bite sometime?”

“While you’re here for what? A week? No thanks, cute tourist boy. I’m not one of the souvenirs you get to collect like a stamp on your passport. Thanks, anyway.”

“Nah. It’s not like that, beautiful wahine. I’m actually moving here. I just got a place with some friends here in Haleiwa.”

Touché. As cheesy as this guy's lines are, he somehow carries them off because of the sincerity in his eyes when he says them.

“Hmmm. So you’re a haole. I’ll think about it.”

The guy beams.

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